#in case she needs to get something from the back

[rotapathetic]

: ̗̀┊͙TWITCH STREAMER!RAFE taking reader shopping ⠀꒰ 🎧 ꒱ !⠀⠀୨୧

❝she won ❜ : bold text is stream chat! 💬

STREAMER who comes up with random excuses to do things for you irl stream

“alright,” rafe pulled you into his lap, placing his headset on top of your head. it titled to the side, the mic hitting your chin instead of your lips. “have something planned for today’s stream.”

user: geez she needs her own headset user: hi guys user: a duo game??

“what is it?” you perked up, the headset jostling. rafe chucked, moving it down around your neck. “i take you shopping and say yes to whatever you want,” rafe answered, sliding you closer on his lap.

“really!” your head tilted, smiling down at him. “are you sure?” rafe tilted a brow at you, “yes, really. need to spoil you, it’s been an urge.”

user: wee!! we get to tag along user: can we get food on the way user: need to see more of her wardrobe taste

ᵋ @ barnes and noble ᵌ

“if you want a guy who can play hockey, i could learn in two days,” rafe frowned at the book you held.

user: no you couldn’t

you giggled, placing it in the basket with your other picks. “i don’t. i don’t want this guy, i want him to end up with the main character,” you explained.

rafe nodded with hesitance, glancing at the other books on the shelf, letting the viewers also see. “i’m just saying. . if you were into that fantasy, wizard crap, i could make something work.”

user: what are you talking about user: he’s about to end the challenge user: what did she pick out

rafe pointed the camera at your basket, “they want to see.” “oh!” you rifled through the books, naming them off, “some were being hyped on social media and i’m easily influenced, and others i just like the description,” you explained to them.

“is that all?” rafe didn’t like the little amount you grabbed. “yeah. . should i grab more?” you frowned at your basket.

rafe thought for a second, “i actually don’t need you discovering you have a new type, we can check out.”

ᵋ @ coach ᵌ

“i really don’t need it. that’s not even the challenge, you said anything i want.”

rafe finished paying, grabbing the bag from the cashier. “you pick it up, you want it. i buy it.” he added the bag to the others on his arm.

you frowned at the expensive coach bag, “but i put it down. .” rafe smiled at you, “and i picked it back up. now where else do you want to go?”

user: she won

ᵋ @ popmart ᵌ

the girl gasped, looking between you two, “wait. .” rafe kept the camera pointed to himself just in case the supporter didn’t want to be on video. “. .oh my gosh, it’s you!” she said to you, ignoring rafe.

you put the box you were holding into the basket rafe held. “hi. .” you nervously giggled out. rafe kept an eye on the girl as she stepped closer. he didn’t mind anyone meeting you, he just had to make sure the girl respected you and didn’t try to sneak a picture.

“you are so pretty. . hi rafe,” she tossed a glance at him, looking back to you. rafe smiled at you, not minding at all the attention not being on him.

user: that’s humbling user: no fair she got to see her before us user: she better not be weird. .

“you are too! wait, what are you getting?” you asked the girl, looking at the boxes she had. she stepped next to you so you could see.

“okay, so. on the stream where you guys met, you said you like skull pandas. i’m not really a skull panda girl, but when you said you like them, i was like i have to get them.”

you widened your eyes at her, “no you did not,” you cooed. “that is so sweet. we were just about to check out, i’m so glad we ran into you. .”

“oh! i can leave you guys alone, then. i just wanted to say hi. and i literally won’t say anything about you by the way, i am not like that.” she promised you and rafe.

you frowned at her, “you don’t seem like it. okay, wait. .” you walked back to rafe, peering up at him. “mm. . would you say yes if i asked you to buy her boxes for her?”

you didn’t need to put on those eyes. “anything you want, baby.”

ᵋ @ the thrift ᵌ

“you see the vision, right?” you held the top up to your chest, turning for rafe to see.

he stared intensely, “that’s cute, i can see it. it can go with the hat you picked up,” he reached into the cart, pulling out the hat and holding it up to your head.

you gasped, “you’re so right, okay.” you placed the top in the cart.

rafe read the chat. “wow, they really doubted my fashion skills. that’s rude guys.”

you peeked over to read, some of your face showing in the camera. “no, guys, he helps with my outfits sometimes. he’s really good.” you walked over to another rack, rafe pushing the cart behind you.

rafe read more chats. “now they’re switching up. you guys always go with anything she says.”

you giggled, peering over your shoulder, then going back to rifling through the clothes.

“as they should though,” rafe said.

ᵋ @ rafe’s place ᵌ

rafe placed the bags on the desk, some on the floor that couldn’t fit.

user: this was so fun user: haul time

rafe turned to you sitting in his chair, legs crossed. “they’re asking for a haul, but you don’t have to give one.”

your eyes widened, “they still want to see me?”

user: duh this is your stream

[blueberrybirdsworld]

Lost and found 2

Part 2 of this storie.

Genre : request, fluff, oneshot

Pairing : Lando Norris x teacher!Y/N

Main Masterlist

The day after the Monaco Grand Prix, Y/N sat cross-legged on her tiny balcony, sipping lukewarm coffee and grading spelling quizzes from her students.

Her phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: You owe me one, remember? Still waiting for my “thank you” dinner, Miss Y/N.

Her eyebrows lifted.

Y/N: I’m sorry… who is this and how did you get my number?

Three dots blinked back almost instantly.

Unknown Number: A good magician never reveals his secrets. Let’s just say… you left quite an impression.

Y/N: Lando ? How did you get my number? Did Sara give it to you?

Lando : (Contact saved) You left so quickly yesterday, I didn’t get the chance to ask. And no, Sara didn’t give it to me, though I suspect she’d do just about anything to help my case It wasn’t that hard to find you. Monaco’s small. 😌

Y/N stared at her phone, heart doing a weird little skip in her chest.

Y/N: You could’ve just asked like a normal person. I guess I did already say yes to a date... No need to recruit a spy agency.

Lando : Well, Miss Y/N, I didn’t want to miss my shot. Besides, you disappeared into the crowd didn't have time to ask

Y/N: Sorry I ghosted. I had 20 kids to not lost again Which, by the way, went surprisingly okay. No one else wandered off. Not even Ella, and she’s usually one “Look! A butterfly!” away from vanishing.

Lando : Impressive. Gold star for you. ⭐ Also, congrats to me, I guess? For the race? Just wondering if you noticed I, you know… podiumed.

Y/N: Oh wow, did you race yesterday? I had no idea. It’s not like you had your face plastered across every surface within a 3-mile radius. 🙄 But seriously, congrats. That was epic.👏

Lando : Was waiting for you to say that. Thanks 😊 Felt good. Monaco wins always do. But you know what feels better?

Y/N: What? Your lap time? The smell of champagne on fireproof suits?

Lando : Having a date with a cute teacher.

Y/N: Smooth. Very smooth. Fine. I’m free Thursday night. But only if you promise not to bring any stickers.

Lando : Can’t promise that. Might be my signature move.

Thursday night in Monaco felt less like a date and more like something out of a movie. Warm golden streetlights cast long reflections over the marina, and the soft hum of distant music floated from open terraces. Y/N checked her phone for the fourth time, then shook her head and laughed at herself.

This is ridiculous, she thought. It’s just dinner.

But it wasn’t just dinner. It was a date. With Lando Norris. Race winner. Flirtatious chaos incarnate.

She was halfway through mentally rehearsing excuses just in case, when she spotted him.

He was already there, waiting outside the restaurant, dressed in a crisp white shirt and navy trousers, hands tucked into his pockets, curls slightly more tamed than usual.

And smiling at her like he wasn’t used to waiting, but would wait hours if she asked.

“Wow,” he said as she approached. “You’re… georgous. Really elegant tonight.”

She smirked. “You clean up okay too. No McLaren cap tonigh ?”

“I brought one,” he teased, patting his chest. “Emergency use only.,if a kid get lost again”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. “Let’s eat before you start handing them out.”

They were seated on a quiet terrace overlooking the water, the clink of glasses and the murmur of other diners providing just enough cover for nerves.

“So,” she began, folding her napkin, “when you’re not rescuing lost children and stealing phone numbers, how's is tour life like?”

Lando laughed. “Oh, just some light go-karting. On an international scale. No big deal.”

“I think I’ve heard of it,” she said dryly.

After a beat, he asked, “So what made you want to wrangle children for a living? Seems like you could do something far less… chaotic.”

She tilted her head. “Chaos is kind of my thing. Teaching’s exhausting, yeah, but it’s also... deeply rewarding. I love the curiosity, the little victories. And I love showing them something new. After the race, I had ten of them who wanted to do study downforce and tire compounds. Do you know how rare that is in a classroom?”

“Honestly?” he grinned. “Sounds like you’re raising the next generation of engineers.”

“I hope so. Or drivers. Or… I don’t know. Curious, kind humans.”

He watched her for a long second, then said, “You’re good at it, aren’t you?”

“I try,” she said, a little surprised by his tone.

“You are,” he said. “I saw how Sara looked at you. That wasn’t fear or just respect. She trusted you. And that doesn’t happen by accident.”

She felt her cheeks flush. “Careful, Norris. You’re starting to sound like a grown-up.”

He laughed, tilting his head. “Don’t get used to it. I’m usually a menace.”

“I figured,” she said. “Before I first met you, I honestly thought you were just some reckless, childish guy with too much confidence and not enough sense. I get enough of that during class.”

Lando clutched his chest, mock wounded. “Ouch. Harsh.”

“But fair,” she added.

He chuckled. “Okay, fine. You’re not wrong. I am childish sometimes. I like dumb jokes, fast things, and annoying my friends.” He paused, looking at her more seriously. “But tonight? I’m just trying to impress you.”

That stunned her into silence for a second.

She recovered with a soft smile. “Well. Consider me… mildly impressed.”

He grinned, but then she shifted the conversation again.

“You were so good with Sara. Not a lot of people know how to talk to kids. How are you so good at it?”

Something changed in his expression. He leaned back a little, fingers tapping lightly against his glass.

“I think…” he began slowly, “I think I just remember being that kid. The one who was obsessed with cars. Who lived and breathed racing. Who dreamt so big it didn’t even make sense. And if one of the drivers I admired had ever looked at me, really seen me and said something kind or just… paid attention? That would’ve meant everything.”

Y/N stayed quiet, letting him speak.

“So I try to be that guy now,” he said. “The one who makes space for those kids. Especially the little ones who look lost or overwhelmed. I don’t always get it right. But I try.”

She stared at him, moved. “That’s… honestly kind of beautiful.”

He shrugged, like brushing it off made it less vulnerable. “I mean, don’t tell anyone. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” she whispered.

Their eyes met. Something shifted. The conversation slowed, deepened, turned into a soft current pulling them closer.

“So,” he said after a moment, playfully nudging her foot under the table, “how are we doing so far? Am I winning this date?”

She tilted her head, smirking. “You’ve avoided all major red flags. No chewing with your mouth open. No sticker bribes. A surprising amount of introspection.”

He grinned. “I’m saving the chewing-with-mouth-open for date three.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Date three? Already making plans?”

“Just saying,” he said, leaning closer, his voice a little lower, “if tonight ends with a yes, I’m definitely asking you out again.”

“And what makes you so confident I’ll say yes?”

“Because,” he murmured, eyes warm, “you’re smiling like you already have.”

She stared at him, this sweet, clever, chaotic, unexpectedly deep man and realized… he was right.

“Maybe I am,” she said quietly.

The restaurant’s terrace had long since emptied, the soft clink of cutlery replaced by the hush of late-night Monaco. Lando offered to walk her home before she even had to ask.

They stepped out onto the cobbled street, the glow from storefronts casting gentle halos on the sidewalk.

“So,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself more out of habit than chill, “do you always go full gentleman after a race win?”

Lando glanced sideways at her, hands tucked casually in his pockets. “Nope. This is strictly VIP treatment.”

“Oh? And what exactly did I do to earn such an upgrade?”

He grinned. “Didn’t tackle me when you found out I was famous. That alone deserves flowers.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I had a kid to chase. Didn’t have time for fangirling.”

“Exactly. You’re terrifyingly efficient. That’s very attractive.”

She smile and the space between them grow thiner, their hands brushing here and there.

They fell into step again, their pace unhurried, as if the night had conspired to slow down just for them.

Her apartment wasn’t far and when they reached her building’s steps, she turned to face him, one foot on the bottom stair.

“Well,” she said softly. “This is me.”

“I figured,” he said, glancing up toward the window with a small, almost boyish smile.

They stood there a moment, the silence between them full but not awkward. A good silence. A “neither of us wants to end this” kind of silence.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at her. “So… I had fun tonight.”

“Me too,” she said, heart ticking faster now that it was just the two of them, the city dim behind them.

“You’re not what I expected,” he added, voice quieter now. “You’re smarter. Sharper. And a lot harder to impress.”

She tilted her head. “Is that a challenge?”

His smile was crooked. “Maybe.”

She took a step down, so they were on the same level now, barely inches apart.

“You’re not what I expected either,” she admitted. “I thought you’d be all ego and reckless charm.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “To be fair, that is most of my personality.”

She chuckled. “But tonight you were kind. Thoughtful. Gentle.”

His expression softened, like she’d touched something just under the surface.

“I told you,” he said. “I was trying to impress you.”

“You did,” she said quietly. “You really did.”

The air between them changed, warmer, slower, like the universe had just given them a moment to breathe.

Lando leaned forward slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Would it be crazy if I kissed you right now?”

She blinked, heart now firmly lodged somewhere in her throat. “It might be.”

“But would it be wrong?”

Her answer came in the form of her hand reaching up to lightly touch his chest, steady, quiet confirmation.

He didn’t rush. He leaned in slow, his hand brushing gently along her jaw like he was still waiting for a sign to stop.

And when their lips finally met, soft, certain, and warm, the world around them faded entirely.

It wasn’t fireworks or a movie crescendo. It was better.

It was real.

He pulled back first, just slightly, lips still close, breath warm against her skin.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the paddock,” he murmured.

She smiled, eyes still closed for half a second longer. “And you did good not kissing me in front of one of my student.”

“Noted,” he said. “But I can’t promise anything.”

She laughed, then stepped back, just enough to let the space settle.

“Goodnight, Lando.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He waited until she slipped inside the building, still wearing that small, dreamy smile, then turned, hands in his pockets again, and walked into the Monaco night like the happiest man alive.

A month had passed since that night on the cobbled street outside her apartment, the night he’d kissed her like she was something fragile and electric all at once.

Since then, Lando and Y/N had slipped into something almost like a relationship. Late-night texts turned into coffee the next morning. Long FaceTime calls after his flights blurred into afternoons spent wrapped up on her couch, his head on her lap, her fingers brushing absentmindedly through his curls as they talked about things he didn’t usually let people hear.

He liked this quiet life with her. The slowness. The steadiness.

And though they hadn’t labeled anything, he was sure of what it was becoming.

He was falling for her.

Every time she laughed, every time she told a story about one of her kids with that glowing kind of fondness in her voice, he fell a little harder. It terrified him, in the best way.

Still, doubt crept in around the edges.

Would she really want him? The guy who lived out of suitcases, who flew to different time zones like it was just another grocery run? The one with microphones shoved in his face, rumors written in headlines, and fans who treated privacy like a joke?

Would she want to build something real with him, when her whole life was rooted in structure, patience, and carefully timed snack breaks?

Maybe.

And maybe not.

But today, he was going to find out.

He stood outside the school gate in Monaco, holding a slightly lopsided bouquet of tulips and daisies, the kind that looked somehow perfect for her. No reason, just because. Because she deserved flowers. Because he needed a little courage.

The plan had been simple: she’d told him she was free after class, and he offered to pick her up. But as the bell rang and parents trickled in, she still hadn’t appeared.

Inside, something colorful caught his eye through the half-open door to her classroom.

Ten kids remained.

Not in detention, in full, chaotic, unfiltered enthusiasm. They were gathered around her like she was a celebrity and a saint all at once, waving their drawings in her face with joyful urgency.

“Miss Y/N! Look! I drew your car with rocket boosters!”

“Miss, I made you getting married, look, I draw the dress!”

“I drew a giraffe. I like giraffes.”

Y/N knelt between them, laughing, holding each drawing like it was a museum piece.

“Oh wow, Maxime, that’s a very powerful rocket car. I’m not sure if it’s road-legal, but the shading is amazing.”

“Anna, this… is deeply concerning, but also? Very creative.”

“And Baptiste,” she smiled, holding up the giraffe. “Honestly? That’s the best one of the bunch.”

Lando leaned on the doorframe, still unseen, his heart punching hard against his ribs.

God, she was good at this.

He caught sight of Lara, the little girl from the paddock, now missing a front tooth and holding a drawing of what looked like a very abstract race car.

He smiled.

One day, he’d have to thank her properly.

Then one of the kids spotted him.

“MISS Y/N,” a small voice squealed. “LOOK! HE’S HERE! YOUR BOYFRIEND IS HERE!”

Y/N froze. All heads turned.

Lando straightened from the doorframe, holding the flowers like they might shield him from a stampede.

And it was a stampede.

“Oh my gosh, it’s the papaya driver!”

“Lando! Lando, do you drive to school?”

“Are you rich? How fast can you go? Do you have a yacht?!”

“Why are you here?”

“Can you sign my drawing?”

Amid the chaos, Y/N stood slowly, face bright red, one hand rising instinctively to her temple like she was bracing for impact.

She looked at Lando across the sea of tiny bodies.

He didn’t say anything. He just smiled.

And held out the flowers to her.

Her breath caught.

She took a step, then another, until she reached him. Her fingers closed around the stems.

“Hi,” she said, quiet and slightly breathless.

“Hi,” he replied, grinning like a complete idiot. “These are for you.”

She glanced down at them, then up again, some soft understanding blooming in her expression.

“Thanks,” she said. “They’re… really nice.”

One of the bolder kids shrieked, “IS HE YOUR BOYFRIEND OR WHAT?”

Silence fell.

Y/N looked at Lando.

He didn’t hesitate.

“Well,” he said, not loud enough for all ten kids to hear but she did, his eyes never left hers, “I’d like to be.”

She blinked, startled by the clarity of it.

He stepped closer, speaking now just for her.

“I know I travel a lot. I know my life’s a mess. But when I’m not racing, I want to be here. With you. Because this? Us? It’s the only thing lately that feels like home.”

Her eyes softened. A slow, unshakable smile curved her lips.

“Well,” she said, voice warm and amused. “I guess you are now, my boyfriend I mean.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Behind them, the kids erupted.

“I KNEW IT!”

“I told you she liked him!”

“Wait, are they gonna kiss now?”

“EW, GROSS!”

Y/N turned, laughing. “Alright, okay, okay! Everyone, backpacks on, we’re leaving! If you behave, maybe he’ll sign your drawing next time!”

The kids squealed in delight.

Lando leaned in as she gently ushered them out the door. “Was that a threat or a promise?”

She turned to him, eyes glittering. “You’ll find out.”

And when the last child finally left and the hallway quieted, he looked at her again, still smiling like he couldn’t believe his luck.

She held the flowers a little tighter, leaned in, and kissed him, quick, certain, unmistakably his.

“That,” she whispered, “was definitely a promise.”

And this time, there were no more questions left to ask.

taglist : @bunnisplayground, @vampgege, @chocolatemooncoffee, @sashisuslover, @gold66loveblog, @carlando4, @il0vereadingstuff, @lilith-123321, @ispywlittleeye-blog, @h-rtsnana, @anonomano, @guacala, @charlotteking27, @ninass-world, @scarletwidow3000, @taetae-armyyyyy, @mynameisangeloflife, @tsuniio, @sophxxkiss, @teti-menchon0604, @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake, @mayax2o07, @freyathehuntress, @verogonewild, @lilyofthevalley-09, @esw1012, @its-me-frankie, @linneaguriii, @ezzi-ln4, @rlbmutynnek, @actuallyazriel, @sofs16, @thulior, @sltwins, @henna006, @stylesmoonlight12, @lilaissa, @sideboobrry11, @l3thal-l0lita, @lorena-mv33, @ispywlittleeye-blog, @lesliiieeeee, @sageskiesf1, @adynorris, @curlylando, @rebelliousneferut, @justcharlotte, @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies, @emneedshelp, @lando-505, @yukimaniac, @sashisuslover, @f1norris04, @dustie-faerie, @madicecream123, @landofotographyy, @moonayu, @l4nd0kkii441

[ssahotchnerr]

Begging and pleading for reader hosting a dinner for the team since they just finished a rough case. No one knows her and Hotch are together, but start getting suspicious when he just?? Knows where everything is in the apartment?? Like he’s been there before??

right at home

i loveee a classic the-team-is-finding-out 🤭 cw; fem bau!reader, established relationship, mentions of food and drinking, fluff <3 wc; 1k

Sometimes, a little team bonding was the only thing needed to recover from a tough week.

After a brutal case that left everyone with a bad taste in their mouth, you jumped at the opportunity to host a gathering at your apartment. It was clear no one wanted to go home just yet; the darkness of the case hung over your heads and made the idea of being alone so soon unbearably daunting.

It wasn't anything extravagant, coming straight from the jet; ordering delivery from a local cafe - a slight, healthier alternative to  the usual takeout consumed on cases. Forgoing formal seating at your kitchen table and instead crowding on the carpet around your coffee table, a movie playing in the background, offered a casual and comfy atmosphere.

Sitting next to Aaron, you wished you could lean over and rest your head against his shoulder. Just for a second. Just long enough to breathe out some of the weight clinging to your ribs. You were glad the team was comforted by being together, but all you needed was Aaron. Only him and then you would be able to put this case in the past.

Plus, it's been a few days since you’d been physically affectionate. Long days in the precinct and out in the field made finding a private moment impossible, and with the team unaware of your relationship, it was impractical to do so much as hold his hand without being behind a closed door.

Little did they know, his overnight bag lay discreetly in your bedroom.

As if he could hear your thoughts, his eyes found yours, a gentleness to them as he silently checked in. Your own eyes briefly softened, relaying that you were fine.

"I'm so happy you all made it home to me unharmed and all in one piece." Penelope commented, her eyes flashing with relief. "Thank good gracious that's over."

"You and us both baby girl," Derek answered, dipping a veggie in some dressing. But as condiments with a thin consistency often did, it dripped off his piece of celery and onto the carpet before he could bring it to his mouth.

He grimaced, an apology in his eyes as they shot to yours. "Shit, I'm sorry mamas."

You waved it off, bringing your knees up to your chest and hugging them. "No worries. Nothing a bit of carpet cleaner can't fix."

"I got it." Aaron didn't hesitate, scrambling up and heading to your hall closet.

The quiet hum of conversation continued on. But after a moment, JJ’s expression shifted; a flash of confusion appearing so abruptly, it was impossible to miss.

How did Hotch know where you kept your cleaning supplies?

"JJ?" Emily asked, her wine glass pausing at her lips. "Something wrong?"

"No." She tentatively shook her head, but her eyes stayed on you, searching your face as if trying to read the things you weren’t saying.

And you weren't saying much. Oblivious to JJ's stare, you weren't acting out of the ordinary at all - taking a sip of your drink, eyes flickering back and forth amongst the conversation. But as Aaron re-entered the room, your face lit up the smallest amount. He handed the carpet scrubber to Morgan, and reclaimed his spot next to you.

You looked relaxed, happy.

Aaron did as well. Too relaxed and too happy, as if he felt at home.

JJ did, however, nudge Emily with an elbow. One that read: start paying attention.

"Morgan, make sure you-"

"I know how to clean a carpet, Hotch." Derek bantered quickly, causing a smile to tug on the ends of Aaron's lips, cheekily looking in your direction as a laugh escaped you. Satisfaction pulled onto his face.

Emily's eyebrows rose. Oh.

The next instance that brought questioning, you all had congregated to the kitchen - another round of drinks for some. As Emily distributed the wine, Aaron took it upon himself to help you rinse off dishes and put them away. Handling it in advance, and saving the two of you time later.

As far as the rest of the team was aware, this was the first time you’d had any of them over. Usually, everybody would meet at Dave's house (mansion, he would correct) or eat out at one of the many establishments populating DC.

But Aaron acted with practiced ease. He didn't ask you where something belonged, no lost expressions filled his face as he tried to determine where something maybe belonged. He just knew.

Spencer's eyes followed him, weighing all the variables. Sure, your dishes were in the closest cupboard to your sink; logically that made sense. Rather convenient, a quick and easy unload, especially given at your height. Was it common sense, or prior knowledge?

But what did he know? Genius or not, he’d never been good at reading subtle cues like those.

Aaron's hand even brushed the small of your back as he passed - something that could've easily been dismissed as a casual, friendly gesture - the kind people make when squeezing by. But there was a quiet familiarity to it, a natural ease, as if he'd done it countless times before.

-

"Are you heading out too?" Dave asked Aaron, his eyes narrowing at him in suspicion. It had gotten late, and everyone had begun streaming out - grabbing coats and tossing goodbyes left and right.

Meanwhile, Aaron lingered quietly in the background, his shoulder pressed lazily against the wall with his arms loosely folded. There was no urgency in his posture - just a calm stillness, as if he had all the time in the world and nowhere in particular to be.

"Why wouldn't I?" Aaron feigned confusion, suddenly debating putting his shoes on to make it more believable.

But he was soon distracted by you - giggling wildly as Penelope refused to release you from her tipsy embrace. Your laughter echoed through the room, unbothered and bright, as JJ - her ride home - attempted to unlatch her from you. Aaron's lips lifted in an almost-there smile.

"Mhm." That answered that. Dave smirked, a wise and knowing glint in his eyes. "Hope you two have a good night."

[julessuretries]

Seeing people call Ragatha an "abuser" post episode 5 is actually insane to me because for me, episode 5 singlehandedly sold me on her character, whereas before I was kind of apathetic.

She's not "toxically positive" - she's just got some sort of fawn response given her mommy issues and feels like she needs to be "well-behaved and proper" in order for people to like her.

One of my closest friends from college was exactly like this and it was hard to see them go through the recurring issue of being unable to break past surface-level acquaintanceships with people precisely because they were "too nice". Like, do you know how uncomfortable it is to have to explain to someone they'd probably have an easier time connecting with people if they, just, stopped being overly helpful? It's a really weird conversation to have: like, am I actually encouraging this person to be worse? I kid you not at one point I think I actually said "you'd be better of if you were meaner", but, like, no one else was willing to say it and he was desperate so I guess I had to.

But unfortunately the only person who'd ever be bold enough to do that in the show is Jax (because he's literally already done it) but it's hard for Ragatha, or anyone, for that matter, to take any advice he gives sincerely even if he's kind of right because he's already such a jerk (and might be projecting some of his own mommy issues if we're being honest).

Looking back at the pilot, Ragatha's behavior towards Pomni seems all the more depressing. She literally pounced on the opportunity to befriend Pomni from minute one because newcomers are rare and I imagine she's been lonely for a very long time. Which is why seeing Jax do a better job bonding with Pomni gets under her skin because from her perspective she's put in way more effort and therefore deserves her friendship more. That's obviously a very transactional and problematic way of viewing relationships, but isn't surprising given what we've learned about her upbringing. She's likely been taught that love is something that can be earned with enough effort and is now reaching her limit having to come to terms with that not being the case.

The best things in life come free. Genuine connections have to form naturally. While I'm not totally convinced that Jax is being fully honest in his attempts to befriend Pomni, I do think he understands something that Ragatha doesn't. People want to be friends with people they can relate to and trust. And even if Pomni isn't a jerk like Jax, she at the least can rest assured she's seen the worst of him, whereas Ragatha could reveal her "real self" at any time. It's about taking a calculated risk - even if Ragatha deep down is still a nice person (which I personally think she is), there's no way for anyone else to know that for sure. It's less risky to be friends with people who are more open about their flaws than with someone who feels like they could crack at any moment and you'd have no idea what would spill out.

Ragatha is a really tragic character but also so incredibly real. Unfortunately even if she did decide to be more "genuine" with who she was as a person she'd still have a long journey ahead of her, since I'm not very convinced she even knows who she is.

Wow this episode was good.

“We need more complex female characters”

YALL COULDNT HANDLE HER

It’s crazy that her character flaw is thinking that if she ever expresses a negative emotion everyone will dislike her and yall immediately proved her right. Goddamn.

[lone-esper]

Her Game

Lee Hyunseo/Leeseo × Male Reader

Pussy Eating, Squirting, A Little Bit Of Thigh Fucking, Pussy Fuck, Creampie

3,202 Words

I'm experimenting with a longer build-up while focusing more on the situation/story rather than the smut scenes. Honestly, I am a little dissatisfied but oh well, tell me what you guys think if you would.

The click of the locker room door feels unnaturally loud in the sudden quiet.

Just moments ago, the space had been a low hum of activity. Jiyeon, Leeseo’s ever-present manager, was fussing over a loose thread on her costume, while Leeseo herself was slumped dramatically in a chair, fanning her face and letting out exaggerated sighs. Now, there’s only you and her.

“It's so hot,” she whined, her voice dripping with a carefully crafted exhaustion that didn’t quite reach her bright, watchful eyes. “Jiyeon unnie, I’m so, so thirsty. But not for water. For that special strawberry milk from the big convenience store three blocks away. The one with the little cartoon bear? Please? I can’t perform my best without it.”

Jiyeon hesitated, glancing at the clock, but one look at Leeseo’s perfected pout had her grabbing her purse and keys. “Alright, alright, you little diva. I’ll be back in twenty minutes. You,” she said, pointing a stern finger at you, “keep an eye on her. Make sure she rests.”

And then, the click.

You’re the new guy on the security detail, barely a few months into the job. Your primary role is crowd control and creating a buffer, but for solo schedules like this, you’re also a glorified assistant, a presence meant to deter any sasaengs and handle minor logistics.

You’ve been trying to keep your head down, to be professional, invisible. You spend your time in the corners of rooms, like you are now, arranging equipment cases and neatly folding discarded towels. You're aware of her, of course.

It’s impossible not to be. She’s Leeseo, the giant baby of the group, all long limbs and dazzling smiles.

You’ve seen her on stage, a whirlwind of charisma, and you’ve seen her off stage, a master of cute antics, constantly clinging to her unnies or charming the staff with a well-timed pouting.

The silence stretches, and you feel her gaze on your back like a physical touch. You pretend to be absorbed in your task, aligning the water bottles with military precision.

“Oppa.”

Her voice is different now. The whiny, childish edge is gone, replaced by something softer, smokier. It slides down your spine and coils low in your gut. You turn slowly.

She hasn’t moved from her chair, but her posture has changed. She’s no longer slumping. She’s leaning back, one hand braced on the seat, her head tilted. The short skirt she’s wearing for the concept shoot is hiked up slightly, revealing the tops of a pair of delicate, pastel pink stockings.

They disappear high up her thighs, into the shadows beneath the fabric. Her legs are crossed, drawing your eyes to the smooth, honey-toned skin of her calves and the gentle curve of her knees.

“I’m still so tired,” she says, her voice a low murmur. “This costume is so tight.” She uncrosses her legs and lets them fall open just a little. It’s a subtle shift, but it feels like the whole world has tilted on its axis. “My legs feel so cramped in these stockings.”

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry. “Should I… get you a different chair?” you ask, the words sounding stupid and hollow even to your own ears.

A slow smile plays on her lips. It’s not the bright, innocent smile for the cameras. This one is pure temptation. “No, oppa. I need help with something else.” She pats her thigh, the sound is a soft thump in the silent room. “These stockings. They’re so hard to take off by myself. I’m too tired to bend over.”

Your heart hammers against your ribs. This is a line. A massive, brightly lit, neon-glowing line that your job description, your professionalism, and every ounce of common sense screams at you not to cross. But you’re young, and she is breathtakingly beautiful, and the look in her eyes is not a request. It’s a challenge. A dare.

“Please, oppa?” she asks, her voice dipping into that whiny tone again, but this time it’s a weapon of seduction. She pouts, her bottom lip glistening. “My legs are aching.”

You take a hesitant step forward, and then another. It feels like you’re walking through water. You stop in front of her, your tall frame casting a shadow over her. From this angle, looking down, the view is even more intoxicating.

The skirt seems impossibly short, and her thighs look even more incredible. They are not the stick-thin limbs of some idols; they are full, strong, dancer’s thighs. Meaty, just as you’d imagined, with a soft curve that promises heaven.

“Okay,” you hear yourself say, your voice is suddenly rough.

You kneel. The cold tile floor is a shock to your knees, grounding you for a moment. You are at her mercy, positioned perfectly between her legs. The air is stuffy with her scent, a mix of sweet perfume and her own unique, feminine musk. She shifts in her chair, parting her legs a little wider to give you access.

“They’re attached up here,” she whispers, her fingers tracing the hem of her skirt. “You’ll have to… reach inside.”

Your hand trembles as you reach for the hem of her skirt. The wool is soft beneath your fingertips. You lift it slowly. The pastel pink stocking top comes into view, held in place by a delicate garter strap connected to a lacy band around her thigh. And just above it, the bare, supple skin of her inner thigh. The sight makes the air catch in your lungs.

“Be careful, oppa,” she breathes, a shaky words.

Your fingers brush against her skin as you work the small clasp of the garter. It’s hot. So incredibly hot. She lets out a soft gasp as your knuckles graze the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. You manage to unhook it, and the stocking immediately loses some of its tension.

“Now the other one,” she instructs, her voice barely a whisper.

You repeat the process on her other leg, your movements a little bolder this time. As you unclip the second garter, you let your fingers linger for a fraction of a second too long, feeling the faint, rapid pulse beating beneath her skin. She shivers, a full-body tremor that you can see and feel.

With both garters undone, you grasp the rolled hem of the stocking on her right leg. You begin to peel it down. The nylon whispers against her skin as you reveal her thigh, her knee, her calf. You roll it carefully all the way down, over her ankle, and off her foot. Her bare leg is flawless, glowing in the artificial light of the room. You set the stocking aside and reach for the other one.

As you begin to roll the second one down, she stops you. Her hand covers yours, pressing it firmly against her thigh.

“Wait,” she says, her eyes dark and hazy with yearning. “You’re so kind, oppa. So handsome, too.” She leans forward, her other hand coming up to cup your jaw. Her thumb strokes your cheek. “You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? I’ve seen you.”

You can’t speak. You can only stare into her eyes as she leans closer still.

“I’m so wet, oppa,” she confesses. She shifts her hips, a small movement that makes the fabric of her panties rustle. “Ever since you walked in today. I sent Jiyeon-unnie away for you.”

Her confession shatters the last of your resistance. This isn’t an accident. It’s a calculated, desperate seduction. And it’s working.

“She thinks I’m such a kid,” Leeseo continues, a bitter edge to her tone. “They all do. But I’m not. I’m a woman. And I want you.” She guides your hand from her thigh, moving it deliberately towards the apex of her legs. She places your palm flat against her crotch, right over the thin cotton of her panties.

It’s completely soaked. You can feel the damp heat through the fabric, a shocking, undeniable proof of her arousal. She moans low and presses herself against your hand.

“Please, oppa,” she begs, her facade of control crumbling into raw, open need. “I need you to taste me. Please. I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

The request, so blunt and needy, sends a jolt of lust through you. You don’t need any more convincing. You lean forward, your nose brushing against the damp fabric of her panties. The scent is intoxicating—sweet, musky, and utterly Leeseo. You hook your thumbs into the waistband of her underwear and pull them off.

Her pussy is a revelation. Plump, pink lips, glistening with a creamy, white wetness. They are dewy and slick, already weeping for you. She gasps as the cool air hits her exposed flesh. Without a second thought, you lower your head and press your mouth on her cunt.

She screams, a sharp, choked sound that is quickly muffled as she presses a hand to her mouth. Her hips buck wildly. The taste of her is even more addictive than her scent. You lick up her cream, savouring the flavour as you explore her folds and ridges with your tongue. You find her clit, a hard little pearl hidden beneath its hood, and you lave it with attention.

“Oppa! Oh, god, oppa, yes!” she cries into her hand, her body convulsing.

She grabs fistfuls of your hair, not to pull you away, but to hold you closer, grating herself against your mouth with a frantic energy. Her wetness floods your mouth. She's getting closer, her moans becoming more desperate, her breathing ragged.

You work your tongue faster, harder, determined to give her what she wants. With a piercing cry, she comes apart, her body seizing in a powerful orgasm, her inner walls clenching and releasing as she overflows your mouth with her climax.

She slumps back in the chair, boneless and panting, her eyes glazed over. You pull back slowly, your chin and lips slick with her juices. You look up at her, and she gives you a dazed, grateful smile.

But you’re not done. Her orgasm has pushed you over the edge. The bulge in your pants is now a painful, throbbing ache. You stand up, your movements are urgent. Leeseo’s eyes widen as she takes in the prominent shape of your huge cock straining against the fabric of your trousers.

“Oppa…” she breathes, her eyes full of awe and hunger.

You don’t waste time with words. You undo your belt and unzip your pants, freeing your erection. It springs out, thick, long, and lubricates with a bead of precum at the tip. Leeseo licks her lips, her gaze fixed on it.

“It’s so big,” she whispers reverently.

She’s still waiting and open for you, her thighs trembling. But you want to feel those amazing thighs wrapped around you first.

“Could you, uhh, wrap your legs around my neck,” you hesitate.

She obeys instantly, her dancer’s flexibility allowing her to hook her ankles behind your head. You position between her legs and push your hips forward. The head of your cock presses against her wet folds, but instead of pushing in, you slide up, rubbing the length of your shaft between her plump, wet labia and up against her still-sensitive clit.

Her head tosses back. “Oh, that feels so good!”

You hug her legs close, sinking your cock between her meaty thighs. They grip you tightly, her wetness and your precum making an easing, hot sheath for you. You fuck her thighs, your beat hard and fast, the sound of your skin slapping hers echoing in the room. She moans with every thrust, her hands gripping the sides of her chair, her knuckles white.

“Please, oppa, put it inside me,” she begs, her voice broken. “I need to feel your cock inside me. All of it. Pretty please~”

Her plea is your command. You pull back, the head of your cock hovering at her entrance. She is so wet, so ready for you. You push forward, and the thick crown of your cock slips inside her. She cries out, a mix of discomfort and pleasure. She’s tight, so wonderfully, virginally tight.

“You’re so tight, Leeseo,” you groan, pushing deeper.

You fill her completely, stretching her, burying to the hilt inside her. You’re both panting, staring at each other in a moment of sheer, primal connection. Then you begin to move.

Slowly at first, then with increasing speed and force. You pull almost all the way out before slamming back into her, hitting her inner walls with every deep thrust. She screams your name, no longer bothering to muffle the sound.

Her legs are wrapped around your waist now, her heels digging into your back. The skirt is bunched up around her waist, a ridiculous accessory to the raw, hardcore fuck you’re giving her.

“Faster, oppa! Harder!” she cries, meeting your thrusts with her own.

You’re both lost in a haze of lust. The world has shrunk to this locker room, to the feeling of her hot, wet pussy milking your cock, to the sound of her ecstatic screams, her needy expression. Your climax building, a deep, hot pressure in your balls. You lean down and kiss her, a rough, sloppy kiss, your tongues tangling as you pound into her relentlessly.

“I’m going to cum, Leeseo—Shit…”

“Me too! Come inside me, oppa! Fill me up!”

Her words are all you need. Grunting low, you unload deep inside her, your body shuddering with the force of your discharge. She screams as your hot seed floods her, her own orgasm shaking her to the core, her inner walls clenching around your cock in a final, blissful spasm.

You collapse on top of her, your forehead resting on hers, both of you panting and cover in thin sweat. The silence returns, broken only by your ragged breaths. After a minute, you slowly, reluctantly, pull out of her. Her juices and your cum spill out, dribbling down the crack of her ass.

She looks at the mess, then up at you, a wicked, satisfied smile spreading across her face.

“That was amazing, oppa,” she says, her voice satisfyingly husky. She reaches out and traces a finger along your jaw. “This will be our little secret. Right?”

Just then, her phone, lying on a nearby bench, buzzes. A message from Jiyeon. ‘On my way back up! They were out of the bear one so I got the one with the kitten. Hope that’s okay!’

Leeseo giggles, a sound that is both innocent and deeply corrupt. “You better get dressed, oppa,” she says, her eyes twinkling. “Unnie will be here any second.”

Your mind is a feedback loop of pure static. The message from Jiyeon registers somewhere in the distance, a foghorn from a world you no longer inhabit. This room, right now, is its own universe, smelling of sex and her sweet perfume.

You're still breathing heavily, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. You quickly, clumsily, tuck yourself away and zip your pants, the metal teeth seeming deafeningly loud.

Leeseo, however, moves with a calm grace that is terrifying. She swings her legs off the chair, standing up without a hint of a wobble. A single, pearlescent trail of your mixed fluids runs down the inside of her thigh. She doesn't wipe it away with panic. Instead, she grabs a makeup wipe from the vanity, her movements fluid and practised.

She carefully cleans herself, then smooths down her plaid skirt, adjusting it until it sits perfectly on her hips. With a few deft pats and pulls, she erases any evidence of your frantic, quick-fucking climax. She picks up the discarded stockings from the floor, folds them neatly, and places them in her bag.

In the space of thirty seconds, she transforms. The flushed, screaming, climax-ridden girl is gone, replaced once more by Leeseo, the idol, poised and ready. She glances at her reflection in the mirror, fluffing her hair, and patting her cheeks to even out the colour. There is no trace of the debauched woman who just begged you to fill her up, save for the deep, knowing glint in her eyes when they meet yours in the mirror.

She turns to you. The room is still dense with the realization of what you've just done. A career-ending, life-altering act of utter madness. The panic is beginning to bubble in your chest, cold and sharp. What if Jiyeon notices something? The smell? Your flushed faces? What if Leeseo regrets this and tells someone? Your life as you know it would be over.

As if reading your spiralling thoughts, she closes the distance between you, stepping right into your personal space. She rises onto her tiptoes, her lips brushing against your ear. Her breath is hot, and sweet, sending another shiver down your spine, but this one is laced with ice.

"Don't worry so much, oppa," she whispers, her voice a low, conspiratorial hum that is for you and you alone. "I took a pill this morning."

She pulls back, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. She gives your chest a playful little pat, right over your frantically beating heart.

The words detonate silently in the space between you. A pill.

It wasn't just a crime of passion. It wasn't a spontaneous, reckless moment that swept you both away. For you, maybe. But for her... it was premeditated.

She woke up this morning, this eighteen-year-old girl, and planned for this possibility. She planned to seduce you. She planned to have you fuck her raw. She took a pill to erase the most significant consequence, a calculated move in a game you didn't even realize you were playing until you had already lost.

You just stand there completely dumbfounded. Your mind struggles to catch up, to process the sheer audacity, the cold-blooded foresight of it all. You look at her, really look at her, and you no longer see the whiny kid or even the seductive woman from moments ago. You see a terrifyingly intelligent, determined individual who gets exactly what she wants, with contingencies in place.

The doorknob turns.

Jiyeon bustles in, holding up a small carton of milk with a cartoon kitten on it. "They were out of the bear! But the kitten is just as good for our superstar, right?" she says, her voice bright and blissfully unaware.

"Thank you, unnie! You're the best!" Leeseo chirps, her voice instantly reverting back to its cute, childish pitch. She takes the milk and gives Jiyeon a quick side hug.

Your world spins back into focus, harsh and terrifyingly clear. You're standing in the corner, your pants hastily fastened, the scent of her climax still faint in the air, your cock still aching with the memory of her tightness.

She shoots you one last glance over Jiyeon's shoulder. It's quick, just a flash, but it's filled with everything: their shared secret, her victory, and a promise of more to come. Then she turns away, completely absorbed in her conversation with her manager about the next filming set.

You remain frozen, a statue in the corner of the room.

What the fuck did you just do?

Seriously. What in the absolute fuck did you just do?

[renasomewhere]

My karma analysis and by analysis I mean saying what I see with pictures to help (and some theories.)

Here mizi says

"stop pretending to be righteous. Neither you nor I deserve to be saved" Mizi probably see's this as her survivor guilt and blaming luka for hyuna's death

Then there is a scene of the arguement seen in the teaser, I am not going to add a picture for this as I believe that not much is needed to say (unless somebody says otherwise lmao) One interesting thing though is sua stops mizi from kissing her.

Mizi takes the laptop from issac which has the missile launch controls on here, she clicks execute. Now I believe that it was supposed to be timed and mizi took the timer off to kill not only the segyien but herself and the rebellion. she holds the laptop close and they run to get it off of her as mizi just sits holding. Ready to die.

It then cuts to this which my first thought when watching it for the first time, and now for that matter is its relation to the true face comic, More specifically this "page"

"A bunch of idiots circling you at all times"

Everybody wants to see mizi happy, which is why the people in karma Immediately go up to her. They want her happy and that is it.

The episode then cuts to IvanTill HyunaLuka with hyunwoo and Mizisua but those are quite big so I probably will make analysis' for each of those!

"Hyuna I have something to confess. She was secretly rehearsing her death every night and I knew but pretended not to. Maybe I just wasn't as desperate for her. I know my love was different from yours. But it was love, too."

She thinks because she didn't step in and instead chose to pretend that her love for sua is invalid, Which isn't the case but mizi is presumably having a breakdown like saw in wiege (and this to, but wiege is older)

Sua rehearsed her death not only because that was something she was ready to do to keep her alive but also because her "mother" would most likely be disappointed if sues death wasn't grand.

"If you would have saw the look on her face too, you wouldn't be able to judge her"

More my god my universe stuff. Saying that if anybody would have saw Sua In mizi's eyes then they would fall for her the same way that she did.

The left screenshot is from karma, we see many things on mizi AND on sua, with the latter having a screen of sorts on her collarbone. My first thought went to robot sua from the artwork on the left but I am most likely wrong

The rocket is falling which will cause destruction across the stage. they then show all the characters EXCEPT luka for some reason or another, Perhaps because luka is the only one of them to not have a "provider" as he was grew in a lab (lab baby lukaa)

And then it has the best scene in all of alien stage that we have been waiting for since round one:

MIZISUA KISS, TAKE THAT MIZITILL SHIPPERS. THIS IS HER ONE LOVE AND YOU WILL NEVER SEE TILL LIKE THIS.

Sorry, I got carried away. Continue, shall we?

I'm gonna combine all of these into one because they are all related. Mizi is beaten up, Either by the rebellion trying to get the laptop back or luka in self defence. She holds onto till and a ghost of sua rests on her girlfriend trying to comfort her despite the kinda big situation.

In a zoomed in shot Till's earpiece glows red, He is alive.

She reaches and calls out for issac. she needs to save him, She thinks she has killed so many people and she can't let till be one of those. She grabs onto his shirt and begs him to save till.

It then flashes back to the scene where sua is watching and rehearsing her death. Mizi runs into her room and holds onto her, grappling her and never letting go. Keeping her god in arms reach.

Issac: "For humans... and for these beasts too innocence was a luxury they couldn't afford. In this endless suffering, to love and be loved. To hold onto hope for a day that may never come. Is that survival instincts, or selfishness. At the center of it all was a woman. A woman now called a witch, who was always searching for love. Can we really blame her for that? Where did this original sin begin? And in a trial with no clear answer, can these lives ever overcome it?"

I don't have much to say about this speech except that It is obviously about mizi. It cuts to mizi when it says "a woman now called a witch". Mizi is this so called witch for wanting a basic function of love? she wants to love and she wants to crush and as issac says can we really blame her?

Actually using the picture above it shows that luka is back as an idol and that the attack on the stage that happened seven years earlier by mizi was known as a tragedy. The korean on the middle image translates roughly to ALNST disaster seventh aniversary... where is the culprit. The segyien know that mizi is the culprit for this and that she is gone, with the rebellion or on her own we do not know however I hope it is the former and she is in a place where she can actually get better from the trauma she has induced time and time again

It cuts to a shot of a museum we see a headline for in the previous image. A museum of everything from that season of alien stage, from the collars to the microphones and even the dresses.

In this shot the middle shows two of tills guitars and lukas violin used in The final round. on the sides we see the main event so to speak: Dna mixes of the cast. On the left we see a Mix of mizi and ivan and on the right we see a mix of luka hyuna and sua as well as till mixed with somebody I don't know.

Till who we assume is now working for the rebellion has broken into the museum to save these children from there life in captivity, the only life they knew and the life he at one point knew. Till knows how these children must feel and doesn't want them to feel that way anymore, He wants them to be free and live a life that they can call theirs.

Tags: @whosamity143 @crustyfloor @espritradieux and @localfandom

[karikitdemonrp]

Kari sniffled, looking into her papa's eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks as she just sniffled and listened. She looked down for a moment, processing what the hero said and gave a nod while her eyes narrowed a bit in thought. "I... Think I get it." She muttered, voice still slightly trembling as she spoke. She looked back at the projection and sighed. The child slowly backed away from Hawks and went back to look at the journals again, one last time.

There she read a few more journals from her mother. A few from when she was pregnant with her siblings.

"Today is September 29th, I gave birth to my little boy Kitearo a few days ago. It's been exhausting but he's worth it. Lynx has been a huge help in taking care of our son. I looked into Kite's future and I saw he was going to have a lot of siblings. Not my first choice honestly. If you asked me five years ago I would have said two or three kids would be enough, not seven. But it feels right at the same time. While I saw his whole life unravel I couldn't help but feel helpless... But a part of me knows it can't be messed with, even though I want to save my son from an early grave. I'll have to wait until all my kids are born to get the full picture."

Kari frowned, figuring out pretty quick that her mother knew the whole time, or at least had an understanding.

"It's Febuary 23rd. Flo and Fino are a few days old now. I got a bit more of the picture since seeing Kitearo's future. They meet a similar fate. It hurts, but seeing them work hard to protect their youngest sister, a little girl with white hair, something isn't adding up. I know I can't stop it but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt a whole lot."

"It's been a rough few weeks, Shade has been a bit of a handful. Always curious but always quiet which is a bit unnerving. Sure she cries and makes noises but she's more quiet than not. The doctor says she has nothing wrong with her but I still worry. I was able to see into her future. Lynx has his work cut out for him that's for sure. So far I know all my kids and my husband die on the same day, doing the same thing. I can't say for sure where I am but I can make a few guesses. Again that little girl with white hair makes a big appearance. I'll name her Kari. Kari Kana Lee Himura, long name but it looks like it suits her. When she's born I'll hopefully get all the answers and try to write them down."

"Another pair of twins. I'm not super surprised, Lynx had twin younger brothers after all so I think that runs in the family. That and I saw them while looking into their siblings' futures. These two look mirrored, it's kinda cute. I've named them Boom and Beats cuz the symbols on their cheeks are cute music notes. They are the loudest that's for sure, it's funny. I've had so many kids and all of them are so different even though they're under the same roof and have me and Lynx as their parents. I know why they look so different and why their quirks are different, it's a side effect of my quirk after all. But their behaviors and personalities aren't tied to it, I don't think. It's so fascinating to watch them grow and develop... I know I probably only have a few more years to live. I've concluded I die in child birth when giving birth to Kari. I know I'll be leaving behind my family and my friends... But I noted that my nephew is the one responsible for the deaths of everyone, under the control of my sister given his pupils... Something isn't adding up but I'm guessing Kari develops my quirk. If that's the case then she needs to exist. It strengthens our quirk and hopefully she'll be able to help others like I did, in someway. Though that's her choice and I don't want to force it onto her. I'm glad dad talked me into writing that one entry about my quirk, I hope she can read it one day so she can meet me... Well, a snap shot of me. It won't be the same I know but it's better than nothing. I just hope she doesn't hate me or get mad. It's kind of a selfish reason but there's so much going on... I just hope she understands."

Kari sniffled, rubbing her eyes. "I... I don't hate you mom." She whispered after a few moments of silence, hugging herself. "I just wish I knew you." The child gulped and moved to look back at the journal about All of the Above and began taking notes. "But yea, I'm glad grampa talked you into writing about your quirk too... It's gonna help me a lot." She muttered then looked at Hawks. "You think we can go somewhere I can train? I... I wanna try doing this thing mom talks about. I'm not sure if I can get back into that weird mind space thing but... But if I can maybe you can meet my siblings, well a snap shot of them... This is kinda confusing." Kari puffed out her cheeks then went back to writing. "But we don't have to do it today if we can't."

Hawks didn’t speak at first. He just let Kari cry. He didn’t try to hush her or pull her away. He dropped down to one knee so she could lean into him easier, wrapping his arms around her small frame like he could shield her from every painful word she had just read. His wings even curled in slightly, a quiet gesture of shelter.

He held her gently as the sobs came out in waves—her pain wasn’t small, and it didn’t deserve to be treated like it was.

After a long moment, his voice finally came—soft, steady, low enough it didn’t try to overpower her crying but just… sat with it.

“I know, kiddo. I know it hurts. It’s not fair. None of this is. You didn’t get a choice in any of it.”

He tightened the hug slightly, one hand cradling the back of her head.

“But I need you to hear me when I say this next part, okay?” He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, his own golden ones steady and full of something more than just compassion—it was conviction. “She didn’t die because of you. That’s not how this works. She died for you. And that’s something only someone who loves their kid more than anything in the world would do.”

His thumbs gently wiped her tears.

“Your mom knew the risks. She was a top pro. She wasn’t someone who walked into things blind. She fought to bring you into this world anyway, Kari. That means she wanted you here. She made a choice—and that choice was you.”

[nogutsnogloria]

summary: robby hasn’t had a proper conversation with you since you started on his shift. a small encounter makes him want to change that.

michael robinavich x reader

warning: medical inaccuracies, reader is shy, smoking and drinking mentioned

a/n: medical case may or may not be based on a true story of my life.

robby didn’t know much about the new nurse, all he knew was anything he learned from dana and even then the information was “sweet girl, good nurse, keeps to herself otherwise.” boy did you ever keep to yourself. robby thinks he’s maybe heard you say ten words to him total since he met you months ago, nine of them clinical.

you had just finished up a triggering case for you and dana knew it so she stops you right before you’re about to hop into something else and tells you to go get some air. you nod and head out through the ambulance bay. not expecting anyone else but when you turn the corner you see robby there lighting up a cigarette.

“do you want a cigarette?” he asks looking at you. “oh, um no thank you. i don’t smoke.” he huffs out a bit of a chuckle at that. “good. never start.” you smile at him “you got it boss.”

he looks you over and he can see that you’re a bit shaken by something. “you okay?” you look at him like a deer being caught in the headlights. “yeah, yeah um that cva we just had hit kind of close to home.” you end it there because you don’t want your first real conversation with your hot senior attending to be a trauma dump of sorts. you exhale out a breath “well i have patients i need to check on. better get back in there.” you turn on your heel and walk back in.

robby finishes his cigarette and heads in immediately going to find dana. she can sense something is up just by the look on his face. “what’s up cap, you look like you need to ask me something.” he’s watching you. “she told me the cva hit close to home, but shes as collected as can be running his follow-up vitals right now” he says to dana pointing his chin in her direction. “yeah robby she’s a real nurse, she can keep it professional. i don’t think i could pull her off that case if i tried. especially with that guys daughters right there worried about him.” he looks at dana with a quizzical look. “look robby i already said too much, i am sure she’d tell you if you asked her.” she leaves him at the desk with that.

robby is trying to look casual after shift waiting outside the woman’s locker room. your busy finding your headphones in your bag you don’t see him sneaking up on you. “i know you said you don’t smoke, but i was wondering if i could buy you a beer.” you clearly weren’t expecting him and jump at his words. hand over your heart you turn to him. “jesus dr. robby! you can’t sneak up on a girl like that. i spook easily.” you smile at him to let him know that you weren’t really afraid of him, just startled. you think about his offer. “i could go for a beer.” and you follow him out of the hospital to the pub down the street.

the two of you find a place to sit and the waitress comes to take your order. robby can’t help to notice how polite you are to the waitress, even outside of work you are making sure people feel comfortable in your presence. “you know i think you and i have doubled our word count to each other today.” he says with an amused smile on his face. “yeah, well my motto has been speak when spoken to, the last hospital i worked in we were basically only allowed to talk to the doctors if it was involving a patients care. it’s a hard thing to unlearn.” robby nods and makes a note to figure out where you came from before working at the pitt.

the waitress comes back with your drinks and placed them on the table. you take a sip out of yours and put it down on the table in front of you, pulling at the label of the bottle. robby can’t not ask it’s really the whole reason he’s sitting in the bar with you, at least that’s what he’s telling himself. “so you said that cva today hit close to home. i just wanted to make sure you were okay after that. i didn’t really have a chance to check in on you, that’s a part of my job.” you continue to peal at the label on your beer. chancing a look up at his face you decide to tell him the truth.

“my dad had a stroke about three weeks ago. my mom was out of town visiting her sisters so i went over and we had dinner. i was just about to leave and when he was saying goodbye to me he wasn’t making sense, mumbling and slurring his words. i didn’t even run an assessment like i maybe should have i just called 9-1-1. and when i told him an ambulance was coming he yelled at me. the words came out clear as day and i thought i maybe made a mistake.” you smile at robby and he just blinks at you. “having seen this situation so many times before i couldn’t believe how i just froze, not that there was much i could do from home but…” you trail off. robby rests a hand on top of your arm of the hand that has now basically peeled the whole label off your bottle. “hey there’s a reason we aren’t supposed to be a part of a loved ones care when they’re in the hospital. worrying is a completely normal response you saw something wasn’t right and called an ambulance, i would say that he had pretty good care right off the bat.” you nod at that. “is your dad alright now? any thing long term?”

you shake your head with a smile. “we got really lucky. his doctor suspects that the time between first symptoms and clot buster administered was about forty-five minutes, he had full speech back by 11:30 that night and was discharged two days later. now he’s just grumpy because he can’t drive for a couple more weeks. my poor mom needs a vacation when he gets the okay to be behind a wheel again.” robby nods at that with a smile. “and you? anything long term with you?” you take another drink from your bottle. “i think im doing fine and then a case like today comes in. that guy was definitely in worse shape than my dad was, but then my mind starts racing and asking questions like what if i didn’t go there for dinner, what if i picked up a shift that night. sorry i shouldn’t dump this all on you. i have a therapist for that.” you look up apologetic with a forced exhale. “don’t worry about it please, im enjoying learning about what makes you, you” you meet his eyes with a small smile. “i am enjoying this too.” you meet his eyes.

“this hospital isn’t like your old one. the doctors here appreciate the nurses input, we welcome it. or if you just want to ask how our weekend was is good too. we like to make sure everyone feels apart of the team, no weird power dynamics if i can help it. i for one would enjoy hearing your voice a lot more.” you blush at that. “i will try. but like i said im usually a speak when spoken to type of girl.” robby leans in resting his head on his palm. “then i guess you’re going to be sick of me asking how you are”

[keirareidss]

that multilingual reader fic got me thinking...

i see so many fics where the reader only speaks English and Spencer like translates movies that always happen to be in Russian or Italian (two of the languages I speak) and so I thought: what if the reader just enjoys hearing Spencer whisper into her ear during the movies and so she doesn't tell him she's multilingual? that probably doesn't make much sense but do you see the vision??😍

thank you for requesting! hope you enjoy :)

wc: 0.6k

It was your weekly movie night, every Friday night, with your boyfriend. You'd cuddle up on your couch or sometimes in a movie theater if something good was showing, one of you picking a movie while the other made popcorn.

You'd bring every one of your cozy pillows and blankets and arrange them around your couch. Typically, the movies you picked to show Spencer were either rom-coms or, on the other end of the spectrum, horror movies. You loved the way he flinched at the jump scares burying his face in your shoulder to hide from the film. One time you picked a film in Russian, a language you were fluent in, that you knew had a scene containing dirty talk just so you could hear Spencer whisper it in your ear.

Spencer's picks usually consisted of old movies, most of the time in a different language. He'd lean closer to you, the heat of his body warming you even more, as he murmured the translations in your ear. His warm voice gave you goosebumps, his arm heavy around your waist.

It was Spencer's turn to pick the movie and he chose a French film from 1959 called 'The 400 Blows'. You cuddled up on the couch, shuffling into Spencer's side, close enough for him to whisper to you.

It's funny, sometimes he'll get too invested in the movie that he forgets to translate to you and, once he realizes himself, he'll apologize sheepishly and rewind the movie to where he left off. Little did he know, you'd understood what was happening the entire time.

The way Spencer found out about your fluency in French was on a case. The unsub's had been sending notes to each other in French and, you and Spencer being the only ones left back in the precinct, were tasked with reading and putting together the notes to see if there's any clues as to their identity or whereabouts.

You were pinning all the notes in date order on the cork board as Spencer pulled out a notebook to translate. He heard you murmuring under your breath and looked up.

"Do you want to write as I translate?" He asked.

"No, I've got it. 'Paul, I think writing each other is a better alternative-'" You began translating the letters the unsubs wrote to each other.

"Wait, you know French?" You realized your mistake, turning around to look at him, blushing slightly.

"Well..."

"When did you learn?"

"I've known since I was fourteen." His eyebrows furrow.

"I've been translating movies to you for three years now. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I... I don't know, you just did it the first time and I liked the closeness and- and your voice, and I guess I just never thought to tell you." You said, your face hot with embarrassment.

"Really?" A small smile was growing on his lips.

"Yeah." You mumbled, looking down. Spencer stood from his chair, moving towards you and stopping when he was right in front of you. He tilted your chin up to look at him and you saw the smug grin on his face.

"You know, I don't need to translate to be close to you. You can just ask." If possible, your face goes redder.

"Okay." You mumbled and he chuckled, leaning down to kiss you softly, his hand still cradling your chin.

"Je t'adore, mon amour." He murmurs against your lips.

Taglist: @superbeaglewitch, @perfectgoopfishuniversity-blog, totallynotabuckybarnessimp, @dramioneforevertilltheend. @cynbx, @diminombre, @tinythebunni

[towasdandelion]

Hotarubi, Jabberwock and Obscuary ghouls reactions to leaving a small gift/note in their room

Zenji is delighted when he finds your notes and genuinely thinks you have a knack for poetry! He won't look for any hidden motives because he knows how loving you are and how much you appreciate it when he writes or sings for you. He feels inspired by your sweet words and wants to start writing right away, but first he needs to make sure that you're okay with him including some of your words in his work.

Haku is amused by your gesture at first. But as he reads your note, his smirk fades into a fond smile. You really do love him and he can feel it. That doesn't mean you'll escape his teasing though, he just has to! You have to forgive him, he just can't help it when you're so cute, even comparing you to a shy little girl with a crush. (Maybe she wouldn't be so shy if you didn't tease her so much, Haku!) He will definitely keep your notes somewhere in his room so he can read them anytime he wants to remind himself how cute you are.

Subaru almost melts when he reads your note, smiling to himself as he puts it away in his pocket. He can't help but wonder though. Did something happen? Is there an occasion he missed? He gets a little nervous even thinking about it. He'd hate himself if it really was the case. So do go ahead and calm him down! He will feel even happier after finding out you wanted to express your love to him without any particular reason. He feels incredibly lucky to have you. You can expect a lengthy letter from him soon, as a reply to your note.

Towa gets all giggly when he notices your gift waiting for him on his bed. He immediately tries it on, relishing in its comfort. He loves it so much you have no idea! The Dandelion patterned fabric reminds him of his favorite flower in the world - you! He doesn't think much about the reason for your gesture. It's very simple, you love him. You can expect him to wear it 24/7 from now on. Cute isn't it? Until you have to convince him it's time to wash it and he needs to take it off!

Haru almost jumps from happiness when he opens the cabinets and nothing falls on his head! What is this magic? Everything is suddenly neatly organized! He knows who he owes his thanks to. With the amount of work (and gadgets) it was hard for him to keep it tidy. Wait.. he didn't forget anything did he? No? Good. He really appreciates that at least someone is helping him without making a bigger mess. (I'm looking at you Ren, Towa!)

Ren jumps out of his skin when upon opening a game, a pop up appears on his screen. Surely he didn't buy it by mistake? He quickly checks his account, only to see the money is still there. That's when it hits him. He was just whining to you the other day about how annoying the grinding is sometimes. Well, now he's even more suspicious.. You did it just because? No ulterior motives? Cool. Really cool. He won't show it very openly, but he really is happy he can finally do some upgrades in the game. Don't worry, he won't forget to thank you.

Ed is happy that despite all the teasing he subjects you to, you still express your love to him. He chuckles at the last bit where you scold him about not keeping his room tidy once again. But he's not going to make much of it. He'll focus on his favorite thing to do - getting under your skin. Just enough to rile you up a bit, but not to the point where you'd get upset. He wants more of your sweet notes after all and might even surprise you with one of his own, slipping it under your pillow when you're not looking.

I feel like Rui might get a little emotional, which is something he usually hides behind this cheerful smile of his that you know so well. How it is possible that even when he can't touch you (yes we're going back to cursed Rui) he feels the warmth of your love? He thought he's smooth, but how come you make him melt so effortlessly? He's happy to see that his gestures are appreciated. Despite his curse you still make him feel cherished, to the point where it brings him to tears. What are you waiting for? You better go be there for him!

Lyca is kind of confused. He thought the era where people write to each other is almost gone? Everyone is using texts right now after all. The fact that Ed somehow noticed the small piece of paper in his hand doesn't help either. Poor guy has to literally hide from him just so he can read your sweet note in peace! And once he does, he's really moved. He doesn't exactly know how to describe it himself though. He's almost in disbelief. Does he really mean so much to you? Please do go along with his request. (You might be able to see his tail wagging happily.)

[rori-is-writing]

Conflict of Interest

A The Pitt Drabble Series.

Drabbles | Teen | Dr. Robby x Nurse!Reader | 669 words ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ Summary: An unwanted visitor walks into your E.R. ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ Tags: Angst, Doctors Behaving Badly, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Nurse!Reader

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

[ A/N: Yes, this is longer than 500 words and I'm technically breaking my own rules about what a drabble is but this idea hit me like a freight train the other day and I couldn't not write it. So shhhhhhhhh. ]

You have always been a standout nurse. A tough nurse. You’ve been hit, pushed, spat on, and groped and all of it you’ve taken in stride and continued on like some stoic Buddhist warrior. 

But not today. 

Because today…he came in. 

The moment you walk into the room and see his face it’s like you’re an animatronic that had glitched mid-loop. Your skin feels hot. Your heart thunders in your ears. Your brain goes all staticky. 

“Oh would you look at that!” The older man says with a delighted smile. “I didn’t know you worked here sweetheart—“

But you don’t hear the rest because you’re already backpedaling out of the room and back into the hallway. 

You can feel your skin tingling like thousands of tiny spiders are skittering over it. You want to throw up. To cry. To run out of this hospital and never return. Instead, for possibly the first time in your entire career, you march up to Dana at the nurse’s station and say, “I need someone to switch patients with me.”

Dana frowns. 

“Excuse me?”

“I need a different patient. Any patient. I’ll even take Princess’s fecal impaction.”

“You will?!” Princess gasped hopefully. Nobody ever wanted the fecal impaction cases. 

“Why do you need a different patient? What’s wrong with him?”

You swallow. “He’s my uncle.”

If anything, Dana looks even more confused. “I know nobody is supposed to treat their family and friends but you know nobody here is going to rat you out to admin if you decide to do it anyway right?”  

But you’re already shaking your head. “That’s not why. I just…I can’t treat him. Please get someone else to do it.” And then, without another word you walk away, heading straight for the hallway that leads to the stairwell. 

You need some air. 

Now. 

Fifteen minutes later, Dr. Santos finds you. You stare up at her from your perch on the bottom steps, waiting for her to tell you to get back to work. That you’re pathetic for hiding back here instead of just doing your damn job and treating the harmless old man like you’re supposed to.

Instead, she surprises you. 

“He did something to you.”

You don’t say anything, but you don’t have to. It’s written all over your face. 

Her lips thin. 

“I thought so.”

You glance away, wringing your hands to keep them from shaking. 

“Want me to take him?”

You blink.

“…What?”

“As a patient. I’ll take him.”

Your eyes blink even faster. Did…did you hear her right? “But…why?”

“Because you need someone to be mean to him. And I’m amazing at mean.”

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry or throw your arms around her in an embrace. 

“Okay,” you croak instead. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” She said, strangely kind, before a glimmer appears in her eye. “So…how mean we talking?”

You can’t help but laugh, a strangled, pitiful sound if you ever heard one. “Mean enough that he never comes back here again?” 

This time, she smiles.

“You got it.” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

It’s only later—when you’re finally off the clock and indulging in a greasy, well-deserved dinner with Robby—that you hear what happened. 

“Do you know anything about the patient we had today who stormed out of the E.R.?” 

“Oh?” You say casually, knowing immediately who he’s talking about. You hadn’t been there to see it—having been assisting with a complicated trauma case at the time—but you’d heard plenty about it afterwards from your fellow gossipy nurses. 

“Yeah, apparently Santos decided to do a rectal exam. Even though, according to his symptoms, he had no need of one.” He eyed you carefully. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?”

“Did she?” You say innocently. “Well, she’s the doctor. She would know better than me.” 

He sighed. 

“Do I wanna know?” 

“Not today,” you tell him as you steal his french fry. “Let’s just…enjoy this. Okay?” 

His eyes soften. 

“Okay.” 

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Thanks for reading! 💙

[m-robinavitch]

Soft thoughts only today

Jack is the kind of man who makes you chicken soup from scratch when you are not feeling to well, including the noodles. Yes he is a doctor. Yes, he studied medicine. But nothing beats the hot soup and fresh brewed tea every few hours for comfort and getting fit again (and lots of forehead kisses). You dont need a heatpad. He has his hands, has he not?

Michael (I fucking hate how American speak that name. It's so harsh sounding to me) is the kind of person who fills up your tank without you asking. Who has your snacks of choice stocked at his home and a box with period products. Not exclusively period products tho. There are also toothbrushes, deodorant, travel sized shampoo and conditioners of all sorts. He likes to be prepared when friends are over or his son.

Two very large heavy warm hands that make your back feel so nice. And tea just tastes so much better when he makes it for you even if he does nothing more than add some honey and lemon. But it’s his grandmothers recipe. Same thing she made him when he was sick as a kid a million years ago. He’ll prop you up on the sofa so he can be close in case you need him- watching one of your comfort romcoms that he swears he hates but finds himself paused while kneading the dough to watch the scene unfold. He doses your meds for you and makes sure you’re drinking water while he also runs you a bath so by the time you get out the soup is ready and perfect.

He’ll let you lay on his chest while running his hands up and down your back as you sleep- watching that romcom that you turned in before you fell asleep from the combination of delicious warm soup, hot tea, and your husband’s solid chest to rest on. Forehead kisses or soft lips on your temple before he checks if your fever has gone down some.

But when Jack is sick he continues to work himself like a dog and-

“I’m fine honey- no no I just need a quick power nap before work, wake me in 15.” While draped halfway over the sofa, shirt partially on because he got dizzy while trying to get dressed. He’s already snoring- maybe because you gave him the nighttime version of his meds instead of the non drowsy one. Oh well.

“Okay Jack- take a quick nap.” You roll your eyes- having already called Robby to let him know that under no circumstances should anyone bother your husband in the next few days while he rests. It was inevitable that if you were sick then he’d follow suit. Luckily there’s still plenty of soup left over.

MY LOVE MICHAEL-

You have no idea how much I love that please because the idea of him being that acts of service lover I-

Anyway so-

He knows you haven’t got gas in a week- knows you hate doing it and will end up being late to work one morning because you forgot about it. He nearly has a stroke when he takes your car- the entire dashboard is lit up like a Christmas tree. Oil needs to be changed, tire is low on air and need to be rotated, windshield wipers need to be replaced, fluid needs to be added, engine needs to be checked- you’ll get around to it okay, you’re busy. Totally not projecting or anything. You scream when you turn in your car the next morning and the dashboard is empty save for your mileage. He didn’t even say anything about it- doesn’t have you pay for anything.

And when you first started dating he always had snacks you liked at his place. He was just observant, had seen what you ate while at work when you got a moment to actually eat. He had seen what you kept at your own place. So when you dug around his kitchen for something sweet one day- your favorite ice cream was in his freezer. When you had a craving for something salty and you raided his pantry- your favorite chips were stocked and waiting for you. He noticed the first time you have over that he didn’t have anything for you to use really. So next time he made sure he was stocked in case you or Jake or even Abbot came over. It was sweet. Especially since you were struggling that first night. No brush for your hair, no conditioner, no makeup remover, not even real face wash. Dammit you know he’s a man but come on Robby. At least he had a toothbrush for you.

[vaginalvr]

Hi! I love your work! It’s soooooo gooood!!!! Like I want to crawl inside of them and just live there lol.

Would you be able to do a Spencer x reader x Hotch one with like double penetration and some like m/m action?

content warning: extremely explicit sexual content, 18+ only, includes double penetration (reader receiving), m/m action (kissing, touching), and dominant/submissive dynamics with trust and affection throughout.

a/n: i spent so long on this its disgusting and i love it its 5 am here god this is what i do with my life now

word count ~ 6k

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

It was supposed to be one last drink.

The case was over, the unsub was in custody, and for once, no one had died. The three of you ended up back at Hotch’s apartment — his invitation, casual and unexpected, drawing you and Spencer like moths to a flame. Maybe you all just weren’t ready to say goodnight yet. Maybe something else had been simmering under the surface for too long.

You sat on Hotch’s couch with Spencer beside you, legs tucked beneath you, your fingertips brushing his as you passed him your empty glass. The warm flush on your skin had little to do with the whiskey and more to do with the way Hotch was watching you.

And Spencer.

Both of you.

With heat.

With want.

With decision.

When Aaron finally crossed the room and pulled you to your feet, there was no pretense. His fingers curled under your jaw, lifting your gaze to his. “Say stop,” he murmured, “if you want to stop this.”

You didn’t.

Neither did Spencer.

You’d never felt more naked than you did fully undressed under both of their eyes.

Hotch stood behind you, firm and steady, his hands tracing reverent lines down your body. In front of you, Spencer looked wrecked already — his curls mussed, his shirt gone, his belt unbuckled and hanging open. His eyes darted from your chest to your lips to Aaron’s possessive grip on your hips.

“You’re stunning,” Spencer breathed, and Aaron’s hand moved lower in approval, pressing you back against his chest.

“She’s more than that,” Hotch said lowly, his breath ghosting over your ear. “She’s ours tonight.”

Spencer swallowed, visibly shivering.

Hotch kissed your neck, slow and claiming. “Get on your knees for us, sweetheart. Show Spencer how good you are.”

You sank to the floor, between them both.

They took their time.

Spencer fumbled slightly at first — always so brilliant, always so eager — but once his cock was in your mouth and your lips were wrapped around him, he forgot to be nervous. He forgot everything but the way your tongue swirled, the way your eyes met his, the way Aaron stood behind you murmuring filth in your ear.

“Look how much he loves it,” Hotch whispered. “How hard he gets when you moan around him.”

Spencer’s hips bucked involuntarily and you held him in your mouth, letting him fuck your throat gently, your fingers curled around his thighs. Hotch’s hand cradled the back of your head, guiding the rhythm, watching both of you fall apart a little more.

By the time Hotch tugged you up, Spencer was trembling — not from orgasm, not yet, but from restraint.

“She needs both of us,” Hotch said firmly. “Come on. Bed.”

You laid out on Aaron’s mattress, spread for them, every nerve ending on fire.

Spencer knelt between your legs, his fingers moving carefully through your folds, slow and attentive, while Hotch prepared himself behind you. The slick sounds, the low sounds of both their breath, the heat curling deep in your belly — it was overwhelming.

“Is this okay?” Spencer asked, always asking, always gentle.

You cupped his cheek. “I want you. Both of you.”

Hotch’s voice was rough. “She’s ready.”

And then you were surrounded.

Spencer lined himself up and pressed inside first — slow, stretching you, filling you with a gasp. He leaned down to kiss you, and it was sweet, shaky, like he couldn’t believe he was inside you.

Hotch didn’t wait long.

The extra stretch of his cock behind you was more than full — it was mind-blowing. Hotch took it slow, carefully, giving you time to adjust as he eased inside alongside Spencer, groaning low in your ear when he bottomed out.

Double penetration — you’d fantasized about it, but nothing prepared you for the sensation. You were completely filled, tight and trembling, with both of them pressed inside you, holding still while you clutched at Spencer’s arms, trying to breathe through the overwhelming fullness.

“You’re perfect,” Hotch growled. “So tight like this. Taking us both.”

Spencer kissed you, panting. “God, you feel… incredible.”

They started to move.

Not too fast, not at first — a slow, deliberate rhythm as they moved in sync, careful not to overwhelm you. Spencer fucked forward while Hotch thrust deeper behind you, and the friction, the stretch, the heat had you gasping their names, clawing at the sheets, shaking apart.

Aaron’s hand slid around your throat, just resting there. “Good girl. Look at Spencer while we fuck you. Let him see how pretty you are like this.”

You moaned — loud, uninhibited.

Spencer leaned down to kiss you again, needier now, his tongue sliding into your mouth as you whined into it. You felt Aaron’s chest at your back, his breath ragged, and then — his voice low and deliberate —

“Kiss him again.”

You obeyed.

And then something electric happened — Spencer whimpered into your mouth as Aaron reached forward and curled his fingers into Spencer’s hair, pulling him close. And before either of you could fully register it, Aaron was kissing Spencer too.

It wasn’t shy. It wasn’t delicate.

Hotch kissed him like he owned him.

Spencer moaned into it, his cock throbbing inside you, and the low sound Aaron made in response had you clenching hard around them both.

“That’s it,” Hotch muttered darkly. “You both belong to me tonight.”

It became a blur after that.

They moved faster, deeper — fucking you harder, praising you, touching you everywhere. Spencer’s hand found your clit, rubbing firm little circles that had your legs shaking. Hotch gripped your hips, thrusting deep, his voice low and filthy in your ear.

“You were made for this, sweetheart. Made for us.”

“Please,” you whimpered, not even sure what you were begging for anymore.

“Let go,” Spencer urged, voice cracking. “Come for us. Please, I want to feel—”

You shattered.

Your orgasm ripped through you with a violent, shaking cry, your body clenching down so hard on both of them that Spencer nearly lost it.

“Oh god—” he choked, “Hotch, I’m—”

“Go ahead,” Aaron said. “Come inside her.”

Spencer gasped as he came, pulsing deep, his face buried in your neck. Hotch held both of you through it, still moving behind you, still thick and hard and aching for release.

When Spencer collapsed beside you, spent and panting, Hotch pulled you up and over into his lap, never pulling out. He adjusted your hips until he was buried deep again — this time alone — and you moaned at the soreness and fullness, your body already so wrecked.

But you wanted more.

You rode him as he gripped your hips, thrusting up hard into you, chasing his own high. Spencer leaned in, kissing your shoulder, murmuring sweet praise into your ear — how good you were, how beautiful, how perfect.

Then he kissed Aaron.

It was slower this time. Aaron’s hand slid up to cradle Spencer’s jaw, and Spencer moaned into the kiss while Hotch finally came inside you with a low groan, gripping you tight, thrusting deep as he emptied himself.

You collapsed between them, boneless and overwhelmed.

Aftercare came like a wave.

Hotch cleaned you up gently, wrapping you in one of his softest shirts, placing you between them on the bed. Spencer spooned you from behind, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder while Hotch held your hand and rubbed circles into your palm.

No words were needed.

Just soft breathing. Gentle touches. The warmth of being held by two people who had you — completely — and who you had in return.

As you drifted to sleep between them, you felt Spencer murmur something against your skin.

“…hope this wasn’t just one night.”

Aaron answered before you could.

“It won’t be.”

[pushspacetocontinue]

"Yeah, that's true," Travis agreed.

But it seemed that he had gotten the hint about what Willow was getting at.

"Heh, you can say that again," Travis said, "You got Martin with his voluntary work and finding a place that assigns therapy animals to people and the camping he likes doing, you got Truman with his film directing and love of theatre, you got Simon with his computer work, you got Bradley with his teaching and his nutritional knowledge, David with his farming and the love of the sea, me with the fitness talk and dancing skills, and Custard with his love of space, gaming and drums."

And of course, if Lewis was still here, his carpentry, his love for birds, and all the things he said to bring hope to others.

"Oh I didn't know that," Travis said. It was good to know it wasn't from some horrible injury at least, "But I'm glad that doing that didn't cause any notable drawbacks."

Travis smiled again then.

"And we're all thankful too," Travis said, before he then nodded, "All right, on we go."

With that, he started to follow Willow's directions as she gave them.

"Y-yeah, I, I can only imagine," Russell said, as he glanced around once more. He was also trying not to imagine it too hard, "Or, or your footsteps or, or just any-anything you, you might have said, said out loud."

If the volume had been just that little bit loud enough at least.

"But you made it work," Simon said, "And that's impressive. You made it habitable so you don't go completely insane when you have to do something in here."

Antonio's ear twitched at that.

"I'm surprised it didn't do it anyway," Antonio jokingly said, "With all the sassy energy I was most likely emitting while in here."

Leofric nodded.

"Yes, that makes a lot of sense," Leofric agreed, "And I will say that that impresses me further. Not that you need my approval of course. I just wanted to say it."

Antonio looked down at the coin he had picked up, and then back at Rook.

"Then I will make sure to take very good of it," Antonio replied with a small smile, as he placed into the chest pocket of his coat for the moment. He would find a better place for it when he got home.

"Oh he does," Leofric said, "And he really enjoyed creating some useful items with you back before we planned and carried out today's endeavours. Perhaps he might like to do that again."

"Thanks, Rook," Simon said.

"Y-yes, th-thank you," Russell said, before the blush on his cheeks darkened a bit at that comment, but he seemed to find the humour in at the very least, "Heh, m-maybe. I, I can't say I've, I've really felt the, the need to work out why. I'm, I'm just happy."

"That sounds like a good idea," Leofric said.

It seemed that Bill had indeed about to land as Rook had predicted. He had actually come to enjoy the experience, not that he was going to say that out loud in case Veronica decided he needed some kind of worse punishment.

But he had ended up not sticking the landing and completely falling flat on his face when everyone else arrived. But Bill still had to try and play it cool as he got himself stood up.

"Well, that was quite the trip, wasn't it?" he said with a grin, "How was yours?"

"I sure hope so. Things start going bad when we don't care anymore what happens to children."

"It must be quite interesting whenever you and the rest of your brothers meet up. With such a wide array of professions, you may never be at risk of running out of conversation topics." Willow chimed in. It was a touchy matter for Erica and she didn't want her to upset herself with the current topic too much.

"We have to take turns and there's just four of us!" The trick had worked perfectly. "Well, I didn't feel much pain as a zombie, but elves like me are just born with a hollow back. I don't know what it was for, it didn't really do anything. So I let Willow get rid of it."

"It was merely an aesthetic change that didn't interfere with Erica's magical affinity, as we have now confirmed."

"Yeah, it's no big deal." Erica reassured, "But I guess that's why we didn't know about it. I'm glad Rook met Russell, though. We wouldn't know all of you guys if she hadn't!"

"And for that, we're both thankful."

Erica nodded fiercely at Willow's words, before looking ahead. "I think I've seen this part of the city before."

Right on cue, Willow started giving out directions.

"I had to do it for my own peace of mind. Imagine dropping anything in here. The noise will bounce back and forth for days." Rook said, before eyeing Antonio, "And I had to think of my guests. After all, if you're too sassy while in the void, the void will eventually sass you back."

Luckily, there weren't signs so far of the pocket having any level of awareness. Perhaps its artificial nature meant it'd never fully go beyond reacting to the presence of those tied to it.

"Oh, I really panicked at first." Rook admitted, "Because I kinda sneaked in to see where mum was going and I got left behind. But then I just got bored of the panic and started poking around again. I guess it's just the effect this place has on you after you've been here for a while."

It did help that after a while it occurred to her she wasn't feeling hungry or tired. Not being directly affected by the passing of time while being in that glorified broom closet took part of the urgency away.

"Alchemy and herbalism are different disciplines. The ability to directly control the temperature and intensity of our fire is however a major advantage." Veronica replied, "I wouldn't mind sharing some of my knowledge on the subject. It can be very useful at times."

It wasn't just good for creating huge piles of precious items they could treat like Lego, after all. Rook was glad to see her gift was being appreciated.

"Anything for my big bro. But that coin you picked," She paused to point at it, "that's a lucky one."

She proceeded to pass more pouches around, even holding one up so it could be stored in the drone for the time being. They'd figure out a way to get it over to Simon's place later.

"Thanks, Leofric." She offered a second bag, "I can't wait to see what he'll make with these. It seems like he really likes smithing."

"I'm no expert, but I'll do my best with it." Lucien said, standing up, "Russell deserves to have something that shines at least half as much as him."

Rook rolled her eyes, "You guys are so mushy. I bet it's all those sweets you two eat."

Still, she was very happy for what Russell and Lucien had going for themselves. It was clear it made both happy and that was all that mattered.

"Well, let's catch up with Bill. He should be almost at the exit by now."

[ellswritings]

Hiii I was wondering if you could do a Cody Rhodes x reader with the backstory being that reader was like the only female member of shield. And her and Cody Rhodes had a flirty storyline together and the rest of the shield are kinda “protective” over here. and it evolves into something more outside of work please. If you want to add smut that is perfectly fine with me. Please and thank you 💜

My Favorite Plot Twist

Cody Rhodes (Runnels) x reader

TW: Reader is a bit prickly. Damien Sandow says something derogatory about reader. The Shield boys are literally guard dogs. Also, I’m sorry this took me twenty years to write

Tags: @reebs-luvs-rhodes-and-wrestling

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

Y/N sits in the Shields designated locker room, wrapping her hands tightly as she prepares for her match later that night. The boys were running late, as expected. She got used to arriving first out of the four of them. Being the only girl in the faction is pretty much the equivalent to being the keeper of the group. She booked the hotel for them, she found the places to eat, made sure they were up at a reasonable time, but the only thing she couldn’t manage to do was make them on time.

Sweat clung to her collarbone despite the AC humming somewhere above. It was the usual quiet before the storm — or, in her case, before three oversized brothers came barreling in like a stampede. She barely had time to flex her taped knuckles before the door banged open. Colby Lopez — Seth Rollins to everyone else — swaggered in like he owned the building, duffel bouncing off his hip, hair still damp from the shower.

“Well, well, Captain, I’m officially ready to carry our asses for the night.” He plopped down next to her, too close, as always. He peered at her wrap job and clicked his tongue. “Too tight. Gimme your hand.”

She rolled her eyes, half-shoving him. “Back off, Lopez. I know what I’m doing.”

“Oh, I know you do — that’s what terrifies me.” He winked, then reached anyway, redoing the final loop on her thumb.

The next in was Joe — Roman Reigns — phone in hand, earbuds dangling from around his neck. He took one look at the two and snorted, voice rumbling like distant thunder. “You two married yet, or what?”

Seth fired back, deadpan: “She couldn’t handle all this full-time.”

Y/N elbowed him so hard in the ribs he nearly toppled off the bench. Joe let out a deep, amused laugh — his version of a belly laugh — then set down his bag with a controlled thud. “Ambrose?” he asked, glancing around.

“Probably yelling at someone for stealing his rental spot again.” Y/N took a swig of water, eyeing the door like it owed her money.

Right on cue, it banged open a second time — Jonathan Good, half-dressed as Dean Ambrose, sweat dripping off him, eyes lit up with that reckless glint that meant trouble. “Hey, sweetheart.” He pressed a cold bottle of water to her cheek, ignoring her annoyed squeal. “You miss me?”

“I miss my sanity. Put on a damn shirt, Jon.”

He shrugged, ruffling her hair with a grin. “Don’t hold your breath.”

The four of them finished getting ready, their segment being one of the earlier ones for the night. They walked out of the locker room, stuck in their own little world with one another. The four of them moved as they always did: tight formation, quiet murmurs under the hum of rolling crates and distant crowd noise. Seth needled Jon about last night’s bar tab. Joe half-listened, mostly keeping one big arm ready in case his brothers started throwing hands early. Y/N stayed tucked between them — not because she needed protecting, but because it shut up the creeps who stared too long when she walked alone. As they rounded a bend near Gorilla, they almost ran straight into Cody Rhodes and Damien Sandow, who were deep in conversation. Cody caught her eyes first — a flicker of something old and cocky danced there.

Sandow sneered the second his eyes flicked to her. He raised a mocking brow. “Well, if it isn’t The Shield and their little— what’s the word— mascot.”

Colby bristled. Joe’s jaw flexed. Jon outright stopped dead, turning his full body toward Sandow.

“Come again?” Jon’s tone dropped so low, even a camera guy passing by paused mid-step.

Sandow crossed his arms, smug. “You heard me. Thought the big boys liked to fight their own battles, but maybe they just need a pretty distraction to stay relevant.”

Y/N’s spine snapped straight. She opened her mouth— but Jon was faster. He lunged so quick that Cody had to shove Sandow back to avoid getting clocked too. “Hey— HEY!” Cody stepped between Jon and Sandow, shoving his hand at Jon’s chest. “Easy, Good. He’s a mouthy bastard but you know the suits’ll fine you if you smash his face in back here.”

Jon snarled back, “Fine me then. I’ll pay in cash, right now—”

Joe grabbed Jon’s collar, Seth crowded closer to Cody, and in the middle of the swirl stood Y/N, hands braced on Jon’s shoulder trying to keep him from murder. Cody leaned closer to her while the guys postured. His voice dropped, almost gentle, that faint grin curving his mouth. “You really oughta leash your watchdogs, sweetheart. One of these days they’re gonna bite the wrong throat.”

She snapped her eyes to him, voice low but slicing. “Careful, Rhodes. Might start with yours.”

Something in his grin tightened — a flash of heat, of amusement, something she didn’t have time to read because Sandow piped up behind him, “She talks tough for a mascot—”

This time Colby didn’t wait for Jon. He shoved Sandow so hard into a stack of road cases it rattled. Cody shoved Seth back — Jon lunged again — Joe barked a sharp ENOUGH that rattled the pipes overhead. Security spilled in seconds later, a chorus of “Break it up! Back it up!” filling the corridor. Cody still hadn’t taken his eyes off her.

“See you out there, Shield Girl,” he murmured, backing off with Sandow under an arm, his grin all trouble and promise and something else she wouldn’t name yet.

She wiped sweat from her brow and glared after him. Colby snorted beside her. “Someone’s got a crush on you.”

She flipped him off. “Shut up before I crush you.”

“I don’t think dirty talk is supposed to be that violent, Y/N/N,” Colby grins childishly.

Y/N moves to lunge at him but Jon grabs her and places her in between him and Joe. She might be considered the mature one in the friendship they’ve created, but that doesn’t mean she’s levelheaded on all fronts. Joe chuckles and nudges her shoulder. “C’mon, troublemaker. Let’s go remind ‘em why they don’t screw with The Shield.”

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

The Shield’s heavy boots thudded on the plush carpet as they filed in — Jon first, shoulders rolled back like he might tackle the CEO himself; Colby trailing with a smirk he didn’t bother hiding; Joe looming behind them like an annoyed wall of muscle. Y/N drifted in last, arms folded tight over her chest, jaw set hard enough to crack.

Behind a huge oak desk sat Vince McMahon, in a pinstripe suit that probably cost more than her car. He didn’t look up right away — just scribbled something on a paper with more force than necessary. The air crackled, the boys shifting on their feet like guilty teenagers. Finally, Vince’s head snapped up, eyes locking on them with the force of a hurricane. “Do any of you have a clue how many sponsors I had to reassure tonight?” He slapped the desk for punctuation. “Do you?!”

Jon tilted his head, half-cocked grin already brewing. “I dunno, boss — how many do we have left after last time?”

Joe’s elbow discreetly slammed into his ribs. Jon grunted but stayed grinning. Vince pointed at him like an executioner. “You— zip it. All of you — overgrown dogs with no leash, tearing up my backstage like it’s a damned dive bar in Cincinnati—” He jabbed a finger at Colby. “And you! Egging him on!”

Colby shrugged, completely unbothered. “To be fair, Sandow asked for it.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Oh for god’s sake, Vince—”

Vince’s voice boomed right over hers: “And you!” His eyes narrowed at her, but not with the same raw anger he leveled at the boys — more like a caged grin trying not to break through. “The little brain behind this group, I suppose you’re innocent in all this chaos?”

Y/N’s lips twitched. She clicked her tongue, feigning sweetness. “I tried to break it up. Blame your golden boy and his Shakespeare reject sidekick for running their mouths.”

Jon barked a laugh. “She’s not wrong.”

Vince slapped the desk again. “Shut up, Good!” He inhaled through his nose like he might burst a blood vessel, then exhaled slow — an old wolf reining in his bite.

“Listen to me, all of you: if you start one more brawl backstage — especially over petty, juvenile insults — I’ll have you each working dark matches in Des Moines for the rest of the year. Understood?”

Joe answered first, curt: “Understood, sir.”

Colby threw up two mocking thumbs. Jon just winked at Y/N like he was proud of her, and she smothered a laugh behind her hand. Vince glared at them all before jerking a thumb toward the door. “Out. All of you. Except her.”

The three heads snapped toward her in perfect unison. She shrugged at them, equally confused, but Jon leaned in to hiss dramatically, “If he tries to kiss ya, scream twice.”

“Get out, now!” Vince thundered, and Jon scuttled backward, cackling all the way out.

The door clicked shut and now Y/N stands alone.

Vince leaned back, hands folding over his chest, eyes settling on her with that predator’s glint he reserved for moments of genius — or trouble. “Sit.”

She perched on the edge of a chair, crossing one leg over the other, brows lifted. “What, you wanna lecture me solo now? Promise I’ll behave next time—”

He cut her off, voice lower now, conspiratorial. “You know, I’ve been doing this a long time. I know when lightning strikes twice in one corridor.”

She frowned. “...What are you talking about?”

Vince tapped a folder on his desk, pushing it slightly toward her. “I saw the security footage. You and Rhodes.”

Y/N’s entire spine stiffened, a flush creeping up her neck. “Oh hell no. If you’re about to pitch me some damsel crap—”

He chuckled — genuinely amused. “Quite the opposite. I’m pitching you something fresh. Fiery. Improvised. You’re interrupting Cody’s promo tonight. No one knows it but you and I — not him, not your boys, not creative.”

She scoffed, half rising from her seat. “Vince— no. I’m not babysitting Dusty’s spoiled son because Sandow can’t keep his teeth behind his lips. I’ve got my own match tonight—”

He raised a hand. The room went deathly still. “You do this — you get your match schedule as normal. You don’t…” He paused for effect, a shark’s grin creeping in. “You stand at ringside for the Shield. For a year. No matches. No singles push. No spotlight except the scraps those three give you.”

Y/N felt her pulse hammering at her temples. Her tongue was halfway to a retort she knew she couldn’t afford. Instead, she exhaled through her nose, the fight simmering to a cold, resigned flicker. “Fine,” she ground out. “I’ll interrupt his precious promo. But if he so much as winks at me—”

Vince barked a laugh, utterly pleased. “Good girl. Now get out there and make us a fortune.”

She stood up so fast her chair nearly toppled. “Yeah, yeah. But you owe me a main event after this, old man.” She slammed the door behind her so hard the security guard flinched.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

Y/N stormed down the narrow hallway, the concrete echoing with each slam of her boots. Just ahead, Gorilla loomed — and through the thin curtain, she could already hear the opening swell of Cody Rhodes’ theme song pulsing through the arena. The crowd’s roar matched the pounding in her skull.

Behind her, a chorus of familiar voices rose like a thundercloud. “Hey — Y/N!” Colby’s voice cracked through the noise first, footsteps pounding as he sprinted to catch up. “Hold up a damn second!”

She didn’t break stride, just tightened her grip on the headset in her hand, knuckles whitening. Jon’s laugh — sharp and disbelieving — cut in next as he and Joe caught up, flanking her on either side like personal bodyguards ready to tear someone’s spine out. “You got that look — who do I have to knock out this time?”

Joe’s rumble was quieter but twice as dangerous. “Y/N. Talk. Now.”

She let out a tight, humorless snort, eyes locked dead ahead. “You three wanna know? Vince called us in. Read us the riot act for your genius little bar brawl. And now — surprise, surprise — guess who’s the lucky golden goose that gets a storyline with that smug prick out there?” She stabbed her thumb back toward Gorilla, where Cody’s voice was dripping over the live feed.

Colby nearly tripped over his own boots, eyes wide. “Rhodes?! You gotta be shitting me—”

Jon scoffed, voice climbing an octave. “No. Nah, hell no. Not him. Anyone but him. We’ll go back in right now — we’ll fix it. I’ll threaten Sandow’s neck again if I gotta—”

Joe leaned in, voice low, trying reason where Jon barked chaos. “What’s the angle? Romance? A match? What’s Vince pushing?”

She barked out a bitter laugh, clapping a hand over her mouth mockingly. “Oh, I don’t know, Joe — maybe Vince liked the brawl footage so much he thought, hey, let’s stir up some scandal — Shield girl versus the pretty boy! It’s bait for cheap headlines. And guess what — if I don’t do it? No matches. I’m just eye candy at ringside for the next year.”

Colby grabbed her elbow, tugging her to a sudden halt so hard Jon nearly slammed into her back. “Y/N. Listen to me. We know what he’s like. You’ve seen it. He’s a snake with a fancy smile and a shiny suit — he’ll twist this storyline, he’ll—”

She yanked her arm free, eyes blazing as she whirled on all three of them. They braced as if she might swing first. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t see right through him? I do. Better than you ever will. But I also know I’m not about to sit on my ass for a year just because you three can’t keep your testosterone in check!”

Joe rumbled, slow and deliberate: “If he so much as looks at you wrong—”

She cut him off with a sharp laugh, jabbing her finger at his chest. “I’ll break his nose before you even blink, big man. And you—” she turned to Jon, eyes narrowing, “—keep your fists to yourself for one night. One. I swear, Jon, you throw a punch tonight, I’m gonna deck you myself.”

Jon just glared, defiant but cornered. “I don’t trust him around you.”

Colby added, voice strained but pleading, “We’re not trying to run your life, Y/N— but he’s not like us. He’s… him. And you’re—” He gestured at her gear, at her badge. “You’re ours.”

She softened for half a heartbeat — just enough for the truth to flicker through the fight. “Yeah. I know. But I’m not just yours. I’m mine. And this—” she jerked her chin toward Gorilla, Cody’s promo still rolling smooth as honey, “—this is what I’ve busted my ass for. Let me handle it my way.”

Y/N could hear his music ending, his cocky voice filling the arena. She rolls her eyes, bracing herself for about of confused questions from the stagehands. She turned back to her boys, braced her fists on her hips, and said with finality: “Stay back. Let me handle him. I promise you — he tries anything? I’ll remind him real quick why I’m the meanest damn dog in the yard.”

Colby raked a hand through his hair, eyes darting between Joe and Jon, resigned but proud in that big-brother way. Jon just muttered under his breath, “Break his pretty teeth if you gotta…”

Joe didn’t say a word — just pulled her into a bone-crushing hug so quick she nearly squeaked, then shoved her forward with a gruff, “Go show ‘em who he’s messing with.”

She grinned at them, a flash of steel and mischief. “Watch and learn, boys.”

Cody Rhodes prowled the center of the ring like it was a throne room built just for him. The lights caught every glint of gold on his new tights, bouncing off the smug curve of his smirk. The microphone danced in his fingertips — a king playing with his crown. “You know, there comes a time,” he purred into the sea of noise, pacing slow circles, voice dripping that old-school bravado that got under people’s skin and stayed there, “when talent alone won’t get you noticed — when being the best-looking man in this building just ain’t enough.”

He stopped dead center, peering into the hard camera with eyes that dared anyone to step up.“But brains? Brains, ladies and gentlemen… get you everything. That’s why, unlike some people around here, I don’t need to hide behind a pack of dogs in riot gear. I stand here alone— because I’m better alone. And there isn’t a soul backstage with the guts to prove me wrong.”

He flicked his tongue over his teeth, mocking. “You hear that, boys in black? Send whoever you want. I’ll still—”

The arena practically exploded. The sudden thunder of Y/N’s entrance theme shook the rafters, drowning out Cody’s next word. For a split second — one heartbeat — the confident mask slipped. His eyes cut hard to the stage, his tongue stilled behind his teeth.

Michael Cole, trying to yell over 15,000 screaming fans: “WHAT?! IT’S Y/N — THE SHIELD’S ENFORCER — SHE LOOKS LIKE SHES ON A MISSION!”

“Or here to kill someone,” Jerry Lawler adds.

JBL stares on, a grin in his voice: “Rhodes might wanna wipe that smirk off his face. Look at her eyes. She’s about to rewrite his entire monologue.”

Y/N hit the top of the ramp like a bullet in human form. Her boots ate up the steel grating; her eyes locked on Cody with a predator’s promise. There was no Shield theme tonight — no flanking hounds behind her. Just her, the lights, and that smile that said she’d never been more dangerous alone. She slid under the bottom rope in one clean motion, rising slow, nose to nose with Cody before the echo of her music even faded. Cody recovered his smirk — barely — the mic raising back to his lips, though his pupils were blown wide with something that wasn’t fear.

“Well, if it isn’t the Queen of Riot Gear herself…” He drew it out like velvet, eyes dragging from her boots to her mouth and back again. He circled her, slow, close enough to brush her shoulder with his bicep — testing her patience like a man poking a lion in a cage. “Tell me — your boyfriends too scared to fight me themselves? Sent their little mascot out instead?”

Y/N’s jaw ticked at the mention of the insult used by Sandow earlier on in the evening. She lifted her mic without blinking. Her voice dripped poison, each word razor-sharp but calm enough to scare him more than yelling ever could. “No. I came out here to remind the world you’re still the same cheap suit who spent three years telling everyone how dashing you were — until someone finally told you to shut up.”

The fans roared so loud the front row spilled beer. Cody barked a laugh, stepping close enough their chests almost brushed. “Oh, sweetheart— trust me. You want me to shut up?” He dropped his voice, all fake sweetness. “You might have to find another way to keep my mouth busy.”

A collective gasp from the front rows. Wolf whistles. A drumbeat chant of “KISS! KISS! KISS!” that made the back of Y/N’s neck flush hot, despite herself.

Y/N’s eyes flicked to his mouth for a dangerous half-second — then she smiled, all teeth, and shoved a finger into his chest. “Careful, Rhodes. I’m not one of your bimbos backstage. You try that on me and I’ll break your jaw so fast you’ll need Sandow to feed you soup for a month.”

The crowd howled — half laughing, half chanting her name like a heartbeat. She didn’t back up. Didn’t flinch. She smiled — slow, wolfish — then jammed her finger right in the middle of his chest, shoving him back a single defiant step. “You think you’re special because you’re pretty? Newsflash: I’ve seen prettier faces, better men — and you’re not half as dangerous as you like to pretend.” She stepped in again, the mic right up to her lips, daring him to close that inch of space back up.

“You want my attention so bad? Earn it. Or shut the hell up before I do it for you.”

The arena detonated — chants mixing with laughter and a few die-hard Shield loyalists barking “BREAK HIS JAW!”

Cody’s grin didn’t fade — if anything, it softened, just around the eyes. For a flicker of a moment, something raw passed between them: a promise, an insult, a dare neither one fully understood yet. He opened his mouth, words brewing, but she was already stepping back. She dropped her mic with a clatter, the sound punctuating her exit like a gunshot. She climbed a corner turnbuckle, one boot planted on the ropes, and threw her arms wide — soaking in the roar of a crowd that had just tasted the beginning of something very new.

Michael Cole, practically squeaking: “I don’t think Rhodes knows what he just started — that’s The Shield’s wild card! And tonight she didn’t come out here on a leash.”

JBL smirks, low laughter under his breath: “Careful what you wish for, Cody. Because she’s not just gonna ruin your promo — she might just ruin your whole life.”

Cody watched her from the center of the ring, that same half-smirk stitched on his mouth — but now it was a mask for the way his eyes tracked her every move like he couldn’t look away if he tried.

And the fans knew it. They all knew it. This wasn’t the end — it was the spark. And they were going to burn each other down before it was over.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

Backstage was chaos in motion — production assistants dodged camera cables, a ring crew hustled to tear down a set piece, and somewhere down the hall, an intern nearly got steamrolled by Roman Reigns storming through with murder in his eyes.

Y/N hadn’t even made it ten feet past Gorilla before Jon’s hand clamped around her wrist. He spun her to face him so fast she nearly elbowed him on instinct. “You think that was funny?” Jon snarled, voice low but sharp enough to draw side-eyes from the stagehands pretending not to listen. “Letting him talk to you like that out there? Flirting with him for the crowd?!”

Before she could answer, Colby wedged in, eyebrows halfway up his forehead, pure disbelief etched on every line of his face. “Did you hear the things he said, Y/N? ‘Keep his mouth busy?’ He said that with kids in the damn front row! You shoulda punched him—”

Roman caught up last, more collected but no less thunderous. He crossed his arms, glaring down at her like a disappointed dad. “What did we say about guys like him? Huh? He’s still that same ‘dashing’ asshole— just with a shinier coat of paint. You don’t deserve to be part of his cheap little ego trip.”

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. She loved them — loved them more than anything — but god, sometimes they made her feel like she was twelve. “Boys—” she started.

“Don’t ‘boys’ us—” Colby snapped.

She snapped her eyes open, voice slicing through them like steel. “ENOUGH! Listen to me — I didn’t pick this, alright? Vince shoved it in my lap because you three started a fight next to the catering table, and now the only way I get ring time is if I play nice with Mr. Rhodes. So you know what? I’ll flirt, I’ll spit venom, I’ll let him run his mouth — and then I’ll shut it for him in the ring. End of story.”

Her chest heaved with the force of it. All three Shield brothers stared, caught between guilt and frustration. Before Jon could grumble out his apology, a headset-wearing production runner jogged up. “Y/N— Vince wants you. Now.”

She exhaled through her teeth. “Perfect.”

She huffs, her boots echoing on the concrete floor as she takes the route to Vince’s office. She swears she’s in that man’s office more often than she’s in the locker room. It’s either for something she did, or making sure the boys don’t get themselves fired. This feels like a mix between both.

When she reaches the room, she slams the office door behind her so hard the cheap gold nameplate rattled half off its screws. Vince didn’t even flinch — didn’t even lift his head, just flicked a glance up over the rim of his reading glasses, eyes sharp as ever. “You wanted to see me? Or am I getting fired because the promo wasn’t exactly what you wanted?” Y/N snapped, crossing her arms tight enough to bruise.

Vince’s mouth twitched — never quite a smile, more a wolf showing teeth. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? A dramatic exit, a big ‘screw you’ on the way out.”

She threw her hands out. “Oh, believe me, I’d like a lot of things right now. Getting shipped off to be Cody Rhodes’ personal prop isn’t exactly at the top of the list.”

Vince set his pen down with agonizing calm, folding his hands across the desk. “Sit.”

She didn’t move. Her silence said everything. He sighed — more annoyance than exasperation — and leaned back in his leather chair. “Fine. Stand there and pout like a teenager, then. I’ll be quick. You’re not traveling with The Shield for the next few months.”

The words hit her like a punch to the ribs. Her jaw clenched so hard she thought her molars might crack. “You’re kidding.”

“Does this look like a face that jokes?” He spread his hands, voice calm but brimming with iron. “Starting next week, you’re with Rhodes. Hotels. Rental cars. Media appearances. Charity gigs. The works.”

She shook her head once, twice, like that could shake the words out of her ears. “No. No, Vince. You can’t— they need me. Have you seen those idiots? They lose their passports every other week. They forget flight times. They can’t even—”

He cut her off with a quiet snarl, enough to chill her blood. “I don’t give a damn if they wander into the wrong airport and end up in Paraguay. You saw what happened out there tonight — you two light up an arena. You made people care. About him. About you. About what happens next. Do you know how rare that is?”

She clenched her fists until her nails dug half-moons into her palm. “So you punish me for your bottom line? Rip me away from my family so I can play girlfriend to a self-obsessed pretty boy?”

He cocked his head. “I’m not punishing you, Y/N. I’m promoting you. Do you think people chant his name like they chant yours? You’re a star, kid. And stars make sacrifices.”

She laughed — brittle, sharp, a sound with no humor left in it. “Right. And if I say no?”

His eyes went flinty, the grin evaporating like smoke. “Then you remember the arrangement. You say no — you stand ringside. Cheerleading. Not a single match booked. You watch your boys break their backs while you smile for the camera and clap when they win.”

She flinched — just a flicker — but Vince saw it. He always did. He leaned forward, voice dropping into that deceptively soft gravel that could command a stadium or crush a dream in the same breath. “You’re a Shield member. But you’re mine first. And you don’t get to decide when you’re too good for the business that made you. So, you want your matches? You want the spotlight you bled for? Then you give me this story. You and Rhodes. Real tension. Real heat. Maybe more, maybe not. Doesn’t matter. People will believe it because you two make them believe it.”

She looked away, chest heaving. Her eyes burned but she refused to blink — she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her crack. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse with the weight of it all. “You don’t care if it tears up the only thing I have left, do you? My friends? The only people I consider family.”

Vince didn’t soften. He never did. “They’ll manage. They’re big boys. And you? You’re the biggest draw I’ve got right now. So do your job, Y/N. Make ‘em believe. Or stand ringside and wave pretty.”

She swallowed hard. The heat behind her eyes turned to salt down her throat. She forced her hands to uncurl, forced her shoulders to square, forced herself to remember who the hell she was. “Fine,” she ground out. “But when this blows up in your face — when he tries to turn this into something it’s not — you remember you built that bomb, not me.”

Vince’s grin returned — shark teeth in a grandfather’s face. “Atta girl.”

She didn’t trust herself to answer. She spun on her heel, yanked the door so hard it slammed into the wall with a satisfying crack — and this time, she didn’t look back. Y/N didn’t get far. Thirty feet down the hallway, she ducked behind a stack of battered flight cases — and snapped.

Her fist smashed into the cold metal once. Twice. A third time, knuckles flaring with pain she barely felt over the roar in her head. She kicked a rolling cart so hard it rattled halfway down the hall, squeaking pathetically before crashing against a wall. But it wasn’t enough — not nearly enough.

Her breath came ragged, shoulders jerking as she braced both palms on the crate’s edge and bowed her head, forehead nearly touching steel. The tears came next. Hot, silent, furious. They dripped off her nose, splattering the black road case below. Behind her, boots pounded the concrete. Voices — hers. Always hers.

“Hey— hey— Y/N—” Jon’s rough rasp, usually all bite and sarcasm, now gentle as a bruise. He grabbed her shoulders, spinning her before she could flinch, pulling her tight against his chest like he could muscle the world back into place for her. She didn’t fight him. Just sank into the familiar scent of leather and sweat and brotherhood. Her fingers fisted in the fabric of his vest, anchoring herself there while the ugly, broken sobs punched out of her one by one.

Colby and Joe closed in like a shield made flesh. Colby’s hand slid to her back, palm moving slow and steady over her spine, grounding her. Joe’s big arm caged around them all, his chin brushing the crown of her head. “Hey— look at me.” Joe’s voice, low thunder that somehow sounded kind. “Breathe. You gotta breathe, yeah?”

She dragged her face from Jon’s chest, the tears streaking black under her eyes. Her lip trembled, rage and heartbreak making her chest squeeze tight. “He— he’s— he’s sending me with Rhodes. On the road. Away from you guys. All because I opened my mouth and you started a damn fight—!”

Jon flinched like she’d slapped him. “Y/N—”

“He wants me to fall for him. Wants it to look real. Wants me to be some— some soap opera side piece so people tune in for his precious ratings.” She swiped at her face, but the tears kept coming. “And if I don’t play along, if I fight him on it, I’m back to ringside. Stupid fucking Sandow would be proven right. I’d be your mascot, clapping while you three run the whole show without me.”

Colby’s hand stilled on her back, fist curling in the fabric of her vest. “I’ll kill him. I’ll actually—”

“Same,” Joe rumbled, forehead resting against hers now, voice so soft it cracked her all over again. “No man does this to you. I don’t care what he’s worth to Vince. You’re worth more.”

She let out a watery laugh, the sound sharp and exhausted. “You three can’t even remember what town we’re in half the time. You lose your wallets, your gear, your entire hotel keys— how are you gonna save me from this?”

Jon barked a humorless chuckle, but his eyes burned like coals. He brushed a damp strand of hair from her cheek. “Because we’re The Shield, sweetheart. And The Shield doesn’t abandon its own. Ever. He might share your rental car, but he doesn’t get you. Not really.”

Colby grinned through the storm, leaning his forehead against hers so their eyes locked. “He can have your time on the road. He’ll never have your back in the ring. That’s ours.”

A fresh tear spilled, but this one carved through the smallest, fiercest smile. “God, you idiots. You make it so hard to hate you.”

Joe chuckled low, pressing a careful kiss to her temple like sealing a promise. “Good. Now breathe, sister. You go do this dumb angle. You get your paycheck. You keep your place at the top. We’ll be right behind you — whether they write us in or not.”

She sniffed, dragging her wrist under her nose, trying for a brave face. “Promise me you won’t try to jump him next week.”

Jon snorted, voice dripping dry venom. “No promises. But we’ll aim for backstage, not on camera. Better for ratings.”

That pulled a half-laugh from her chest — small, real, enough to make the ache bearable for now. She huffed out a breath and let them hold her a few seconds more, safe in the fortress of riot gear and reckless love. She was being shipped off to fight an angle she never asked for — but as long as these three shadows stayed behind her, she’d never really be alone.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

The rumble of Cody’s rental car idled in front of the hotel. He leaned one elbow on the open window, sunglasses on despite the overcast morning, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to some classic rock station humming low through the speakers. When the back door slammed open, he straightened just in time to see her stalk out dragging her gear bag behind her like it owed her money. He couldn’t help it — the smirk slid right into place. “There she is. My favorite Shield member.”

She shot him a glare so sharp it might’ve cracked his windshield. She didn’t break stride, tossing her bag in the back seat before yanking open the driver’s door. “Out.”

Cody blinked behind his shades. “Uh — beg your pardon?”

She jerked her chin at him, brows arched with lethal calm. “Out. Of. My. Seat.”

He gave a mock laugh, glancing around the empty lot like maybe she was pranking him. “You’re serious?”

She planted one palm on the roof and leaned down until they were nose to nose. “You really think I trust you driving me through two states? Get your pretty boy ass in the passenger seat. Now.”

A laugh cracked from his throat despite himself. “God, you’re a piece of work.” But he got out, sidestepping her with a playful twirl of his keys before tossing them back.

“Try not to hit anything. Insurance doesn’t cover bruised egos.”

She snatched the keys mid-air, hip-checking him toward the other side. “Buckle up, Rhodes. I drive fast.”

The first hour on the interstate was exactly what he’d expected: tense silence, punctuated by her death grip on the wheel and the occasional murder glare when he so much as adjusted the air vent.

He tried anyway. Of course he did. “So… Y/N, right? Short for anything?”

“Nope.”

“You always this chatty?”

“Only when idiots are talking at me.”

“Ouch.” He pressed a hand dramatically to his chest. “You know, most women would kill for alone time with me.”

She snorted, eyes locked on the road. “Congrats on being delusional. Must be peaceful in that head of yours.”

He chuckled low, leaning back in his seat. He watched her hands more than the highway — the way her fingers flexed and adjusted around the wheel, the faint white line of an old scar near her knuckle. Little pieces of her that the Shield boys kept the world from ever seeing. She caught him staring and snapped, “Eyes on your side, Romeo. I know where I’m going.”

“Relax. I’m just appreciating the view.” He wiggled his brows. “Gotta make this road trip worth the trauma, sweetheart.”

“Touch me and I swear to God I’ll break your nose.”

“Promises, promises.”

They bickered about gas stations first. Cody pointed at a bright neon sign for a big chain stop half a mile ahead, practically bouncing in his seat. “Take that next exit. That place has Starbucks. And a bathroom that doesn’t double as a crime scene.”

Y/N didn’t even glance at the sign — she veered off at the very next random exit without slowing down. “We’re stopping here. I want real coffee. Not overpriced hipster sludge.”

He squinted out the window as she coasted into a cracked lot behind a battered old gas station. The ‘OPEN’ sign flickered like it might give up at any moment. “Real coffee?” he repeated, deadpan. “This place looks like a horror movie. If I get tetanus, you’re paying my hospital bill.”

She popped the door open with a pointed smile. “Don’t be dramatic, Rhodes. One rat tail in your latte builds character.”

Inside, she stalked straight to the dusty snack aisle while Cody hovered suspiciously near a leaking soda machine. She plucked bags of jerky, two Red Bulls, and a suspicious-looking muffin from a basket near the register. He trailed behind her, dropping an armful of candy and chocolate on top of her pile. She narrowed her eyes. “We are not buying your sugar stash. Put it back.”

He feigned innocence. “Protein and carbs, sweetheart. You need fuel if you’re gonna keep threatening to kill me every five miles.”

She swatted his gummy bears back at him — he lobbed a chocolate bar at her head in retaliation. She caught it one-handed and whipped it back into his chest. The old man behind the counter watched them with mild horror.

Back on the road, it was only a matter of time before the radio battle started. Y/N cranked Metallica up so loud it rattled the passenger door. Cody grimaced, fingers stabbing at the dash controls until he managed to cut it off mid-guitar solo. “Jesus — my ears are bleeding. My playlist, my rules.” He plugged in his phone, Taylor Swift crooning an upbeat chorus a second later.

Y/N threw him a look so lethal it should’ve stopped the car. “Are you kidding me right now?”

He grinned, drumming his knuckles on the armrest in time with the chorus. “You need to lighten up, princess. Consider this an education in actual music.”

“I will launch that phone into the next state.”

“Try it. I’ll file a complaint with HR for harassment.”

She barked a laugh, but it was all teeth. “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

He leaned back, folding his arms behind his head, legs stretched obnoxiously wide. “No, everyone thinks I’m cute. Big difference.”

She bit back a scoff, switching back to Metallica with a vengeful stab at the dash. “It must be exhausting to be this cocky ”

His smile dropped for a heartbeat. “You know, you talk a lot of shit for someone who doesn’t actually know me.”

“Don’t need to know you. I’ve heard enough.” She shrugged, eyes on the road. “The boys keep plenty of receipts.”

He let out a low whistle, voice softer but sharper somehow. “Ah. So that’s what this is. Jon’s bedtime horror stories about how I once big-timed him for catering. Colby swearing I was sniffing around places I don’t belong. Joe acting like I’m a stray mutt with rabies.”

“Maybe don’t act like a mutt then,” she shot back. But her grip on the wheel tightened, betraying the edge under her words.

Cody studied her in the flickering lights of passing trucks, the playful spark in his eyes tempered by something real now. “Newsflash, sweetheart: I might be a pain in the ass, but I don’t need your boys to like me. I do need you to maybe think for yourself, though.”

That made her laugh — but it cracked at the end. “Don’t flatter yourself, Rhodes. I think just fine. And trust me — if you were worth the benefit of the doubt, I’d have given it.”

A tense silence settled in. Metallica growled low in the background, the road yawning endless ahead. He turned away first, looking out his window with a grudging smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Then I guess I’ll just have to prove ‘em wrong, huh?”

She didn’t answer, but the way her jaw unclenched told him enough to know he’d landed a hit.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

By the time they’d been on the road four hours, dusk spilled across the highway in bruised streaks of purple and gold. The cab of the car felt like a tiny universe — half Metallica riffs, half the low hum of the engine, all crackling tension that had somehow shifted from barbed to something almost… bearable.

Cody saw it first: the telltale drift of her eyelids at a long red light. The way her hand, clenched white-knuckle on the wheel for hours, now flexed limply between shifts.

He cut the volume down with a flick of his thumb, voice softer but sharp enough to slice through the tired fog she’d wrapped herself in. “Hey. Pull over.”

Her scowl was automatic, almost sluggish. “Shut up.”

“You’re exhausted, sweetheart. I can see you blinking in slow motion.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart.” She scrubbed a palm over her face, fighting the sleep dragging at her bones. “And I’m fine. Stop mothering me—”

“Fine?” He barked a humorless laugh, drumming his fingers on the console. “You just missed a sign for the highway you’ve been ranting about for an hour.”

She squinted at the road signs ahead, jaw tightening when she realized he wasn’t wrong. “Eat shit, Rhodes.”

“Pull. Over.” His tone dropped — not cruel, just immovable. The same stubborn steel that got under her skin and, she’d grudgingly admit, kept her awake better than the Red Bull rolling around at her feet.

She sucked in a breath, teeth sinking into her lip as if she could bite back the exhaustion by sheer force of will. “I don’t need—”

“You do,” he cut in, voice low but calm now. “You do. Just this once — drop the act, princess. Everyone’s human. Even you.”

Her hands clenched tighter on the wheel. She hated how that landed — gentle, exasperated, annoyingly real. She hated that he saw her cracking and didn’t make a joke of it.

With a muttered curse, she yanked the car onto the shoulder, tires crunching over gravel. She slammed it into park so violently the whole car rocked. “Touch my seat or mirror settings and I swear—”

Cody popped his door open with a smirk, leaning in close enough their noses nearly brushed.“Relax,” he murmured, voice dipping warm and taunting at once. “I can handle the beast of your preferred car settings. You just handle the snoring.”

She blinked at him, thrown for a heartbeat by how sincere that sounded under the teasing edge. He chuckled at her silence, brushing past her to slide behind the wheel. She stalked around the hood, muttering, “I hate you.”

He shot back without missing a beat, “And yet you look at me like you almost trust me right now. Don’t worry, I won’t tell your guard dogs.”

That shut her up. She climbed into the passenger seat with a glare that couldn’t quite hide the flicker of something softer beneath it. Minutes later, her head drifted toward the cool window, lashes fluttering once, twice — then gone, sleep tugging her under faster than she could fight it.

Cody gripped the wheel, knuckles whitening as he risked a glance at her.

God, she looked different like this. The hurricane armor was gone: no clipped insults, no eyes sparking hellfire. Just a stubborn girl who carried three grown men on her shoulders and wouldn’t admit she was tired until she damn near crashed. He caught himself staring too long at a green light — had to clear his throat, dragging his gaze back to the endless ribbon of asphalt.

Yeah. This was gonna be a problem. She was gonna be a problem.

And the worst part? For once in his life, Cody Rhodes wasn’t entirely sure he minded one damn bit.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

The next show felt like stepping into the same storm — only now, for Y/N, the wind was blowing from two directions at once. She’d barely dumped her duffel in the Shield’s locker room when the door swung open like it owed Jon money.

“There she is,” Jon announced, boots thudding across the concrete. “The runaway bride herself. How was the romantic road trip with Golden Boy?”

Joe ducked under the doorframe behind him, tossing a water bottle back and forth between his hands. “Yeah. How many times’d he beg you to marry him? Or did you murder him and bury him behind a Waffle House?”

Colby, always the quieter hammer, planted himself on the bench beside her bag, smirk sharp as a blade. “Well? Did he make you wanna leap from a moving car or what?”

Y/N braced her elbows on her knees, taping her wrists slower than usual. She opened her mouth — ready to fire off some trademark venom — but the words stuck. Instead, her mind traitorously flicked back to the dark road. To him telling her to pull over. To his stupid warm voice saying to pull over. To the fact that when she woke up hours later, she felt like someone had cared.

She cleared her throat, voice too casual. “He’s still alive, so... I guess that’s a disappointment for all of us.”

Colby frowned, catching the way her teeth sank into her cheek. “You didn’t answer the question.”

She forced a lopsided grin, flicking her eyes up at him. “Oh, yeah — I was this close to gouging my eyes out. He wouldn’t shut up. Played Taylor Swift, for god’s sake.”

Jon barked a laugh, satisfied — but Joe tilted his head, suspicious. “Huh. And you let him live?”

Y/N shrugged, tugging her tape tighter than necessary. “I was too tired to fight him and the radio.” Her voice dropped softer than she meant. “He just... drove. So I could sleep.”

Colby’s eyebrows shot up — but before he could probe that, a sharp knock rattled the door. A stagehand peeked in, headset crooked, shuffling a paper in his hand like it burned. “Uh— hey, sorry — Ms. Y/N. Vince wanted me to give you this. There’s been an adjustment tonight.”

Y/N took the paper, eyes scanning the fresh ink. Her stomach did a flip she refused to show on her face.

Mixed Tag Match: Y/N & Cody Rhodes vs. The Miz & Eve Torres

Of course. Perfect. Vince was doubling down on the fireworks.

Jon snatched the paper from her hands, reading it like it was a threat. “Nope. Not happening. No way you’re getting thrown into a soap opera match with him now, too—”

Joe growled low in his chest. “We already said we’d handle it if he gets handsy—”

She cut through their fury, voice calm but distracted. “Guys. It’s fine.” She lifted her chin at them. “It’s business. And it’s Miz and Eve — not a bloodbath. I can handle it.”

Colby’s eyes narrowed, studying the subtle shift in her — the fight in her tone replaced by something quiet, almost... uncertain. “You sure about this? You don’t look like you wanna break his face anymore.”

She threw him a sharp look. “Don’t push it. It’s a match. That’s it. And I’m still running your segment later — I’ll be ringside, barking orders at you idiots as usual.”

The stagehand coughed into his headset. “Uh— sorry — there’s more. Vince wants The Shield out there during her match, too. As ‘support.’” He made finger quotes, face apologetic. “He said — and I quote — ‘Their snarling makes her look tougher.’”

Jon huffed, but it morphed into a savage grin. “Damn right it does. Fine. He wants us ringside? He’s gonna get the Shield ringside.”

Joe clapped a hand on her shoulder, squeezing just shy of bone-crushing. “You call the shots. He gets cute — you say the word, we break his teeth.”

Y/N blew out a breath, fighting the tiny traitorous curl in her chest that she refused to name.

“Relax, you big guard dogs. It’s a match. And when it’s over... we’ll still be us.”

And in her chest, for the first time, the thought whispered back — But maybe not just us, anymore.

The arena pulsed with the bass of Cody Rhodes’ theme — sharp, confident, just cocky enough to drag a tidal wave of boos and squeals in equal measure. He emerged under the arch of lights, arms spread, that smug half-grin firmly back where it belonged. He took his time on the ramp, soaking it up like a sunbeam, glancing at the hard cam with that signature Rhodes wink.

When he reached ringside, he leaned back on the ropes, chin tilted toward the entrance — waiting.

And then—

“SIERRA. HOTEL. INDIA. ECHO. LIMA. DELTA… SHIELD.”

The roar hit like a bomb. Black-tactical storm pouring through the crowd — Jon leading the charge, Joe a stone wall beside him, Colby stalking in his wake. But behind them, a fourth figure stepped out under the lights — all sleek riot gear and lethal confidence — and the pop hit another level.

Y/N stalked ahead of the boys at the barricade, eyes locked on Cody like a heat-seeking missile. She didn’t so much as glance at the fans screaming her name — her whole focus was the man leaning cockily against the ropes, waiting for her.

The boys took up guard at ringside, pacing like wolves with too-short leashes as she climbed the steps and slipped between the ropes — stopping nose-to-nose with Rhodes. He mouthed something the cameras didn’t catch. She answered with a smirk and a shove that made the front row lose their minds.

DING DING DING!

The Miz tagged in first, smirk plastered on his face as he circled Cody — but the crowd knew the heat was in the corners. Cody and Miz traded holds, quick and clean, until Miz tagged Eve with a flourish.

Y/N launched herself over the ropes before Eve’s foot even hit the mat. They locked up hard, Eve trash-talking something fierce until Y/N snapped off a perfect arm drag that made the crowd roar. A stiff dropkick followed, then a running knee that cracked Eve flat.

Outside, Jon punched the barricade, howling with pride. “That’s my girl—!”

But the momentum shifted. Eve ducked a clothesline, tagged Miz back in, forcing Cody’s return. Cody didn’t miss a beat — sliding in smooth, catching Miz with a beautiful standing dropkick that echoed. It was fast — crisp — but the magic hit when Miz ducked, caught Cody in a front headlock, and Y/N slammed her palm on Cody’s shoulder. Blind tag.

She vaulted the top rope while Cody launched Miz backward — she flipped, caught Miz mid-rotation with a flying neckbreaker, and the arena exploded.

Colby’s jaw dropped. Joe slapped his chest, wild with disbelief. “You seeing this shit?!”

Miz scrambled, tagged Eve again, but Eve looked hesitant now. Y/N baited her in, feinted left, then whipped her across the ring. She caught Eve with a spine-shaking backbreaker and pointed at Cody — challenging.

He read her in an instant — no cue cards, no missed beat. She sprinted to the corner, Cody braced low, and she ran straight up his cupped hands — springboarded clean onto the top rope, spun mid-air and crashed down on Eve with a flawless corkscrew crossbody.

The crowd lost their minds.

Jon was practically climbing the barricade now, half furious, half shocked out of his skull. “WHAT THE HELL DID WE TEACH HER?!”

Colby shouted over him, “SHE’S NEVER TRUSTED ANYONE TO BASE FOR THAT—”

In the ring, Cody stalked over as Miz lunged back in to break the pin — but Cody met him halfway, hooking him into Cross Rhodes and driving him straight into the mat.

Three seconds later: 1… 2… 3!

The bell. The roar. Y/N on her knees, panting over Eve’s defeated form, Cody towering above her with a cocky grin that almost looked proud. He grabbed her wrist, tugging her to her feet, then lifted her arm high. For a heartbeat, she glared at him. For another, she let the grin crack through — small, unguarded, just for him.

Then he stepped in — no script, no camera cue — and pulled her in tight.

The Shield boys went ballistic on the floor, barking curses and pacing like caged tigers. The crowd, meanwhile, practically shook the rafters off the building:

“THIS IS AWESOME! THIS IS AWESOME!”

Cody didn’t let go until he felt her stiffen — not in rejection but in realization. He lingered just one second more than he should have, then eased back, brushing a stray hair off her cheek before she could slap his hand away.

The boys climbed the apron, snarls barely restrained. But Y/N barely noticed them — her pulse was thunder, her eyes locked on Cody’s mouth as he leaned in close, voice low enough for only her to hear:

“Hell of a team, huh, sweetheart?”

And this time — for once — she didn’t have a comeback ready.

Backstage was a frenzy of movement and noise — but all of it blurred at the edges for the Shield the moment they cornered Y/N just past Gorilla. Jon planted himself directly in her path, eyes narrowed, voice low enough to cut glass. “What. The hell. Was that out there?”

She yanked at her wrist tape like it offended her, not looking at any of them. “A match, Jon. That thing we get paid to do.”

Colby crossed his arms, stepping closer until they boxed her in. “Don’t get smart. You know what he means. You pulled the corkscrew. With him. You won’t even let us catch you on that one.”

Joe’s broad shoulders tensed. He jabbed a finger at her chest, frustration barely contained. “And the hug? The crowd was eating it up — and so was he. You didn’t shove him off. You didn’t even flinch.”

She snapped her gaze up at that, fire flaring for a heartbeat. “I was working, okay? The fans want tension? I’ll give them tension. I’m not gonna tank the damn chemistry just because you three can’t stand him breathing the same air as me.”

Jon barked a mirthless laugh. “Chemistry? That’s one word for it. He’s got your head spinning so fast you didn’t even see the way he looked at you when you hit Gorilla. Like he owns the ring and you with it.”

She bristled — about to fire back — but her eyes flicked across the hall, drawn like iron to a magnet. There he was. Cody Rhodes. Standing a few feet away near a row of crates, Sandow at his side yammering about god-knows-what — but Cody’s attention wasn’t on Sandow.

It was locked on her.

Not cocky or mocking this time. Just… intent. There was a softness there she hadn’t signed up for, wrapped up in that maddening smirk. He lifted his chin at her, the ghost of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth — a silent question: You feel that too, don’t you?

She hated that her chest squeezed at the sight. Hated that she almost smiled back.

Colby followed her gaze, and his exasperated groan snapped her out of it. “Oh, for Christ’s sake. Don’t tell me he’s already gotten under your skin—”

She tore her eyes away, rolling her shoulders like she could shake him off her skin. “Don’t flatter him. He’s nothing. It’s business. Vince wants sparks, I’m giving him fireworks. That’s all.”

Joe frowned, reading the lie in the tight lines around her eyes. “You sure about that?”

She didn’t answer. Just flicked her wrist, tossing the shredded tape into a bin. Cody, still across the way, tilted his head — a dare in his eyes now. Her pulse stuttered.

Jon rapped his knuckles on the back of her shoulder, snapping her back to the present. “Hey. You coming? We gotta prep for our segment.”

She sucked in a breath, tearing her gaze from Cody’s. That stupid grin was still there, softer than it had any right to be. She hated how it made something warm coil low in her stomach. She forced her feet to move, brushing past Jon and Colby with a muttered, “Yeah. I’m coming.”

As she walked away, she could feel Cody’s eyes burning into her spine the whole way down the hall — and for the first time, she couldn’t tell if she hated it… or wanted him to look harder.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

The ride back to the hotel should’ve been easy — ten minutes of asphalt and white noise — but instead it was suffocating. Cody could feel every word they weren’t saying pressing against the windows like fog. He didn’t dare break it. Not yet.

By the time the car rolled into the lot and they trudged up to their room, both were wired and bone-tired all at once. Two queen beds, identical duvets — neutral, forgettable, safe. But the air between them felt anything but.

Cody dropped his duffel by the far bed, eyes flicking to her as she tossed hers onto the nearer one. She sat immediately, elbows braced on her knees, shoulders hunched like she was physically bracing for a fight.

He drew a breath, slow. He hated dancing around things — it was why people liked him on the mic. So he didn’t bother with small talk. “You absolutely killed it tonight. You know that, right?”

Y/N didn’t look up. “We did what Vince paid us to do.”

He pushed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, considering. “Yeah, well, we did it better than anyone else could’ve. Commentators loved it. Even your three angry watch dogs probably loved it — even if they wanna punt me off a bridge about it.”

That got the faintest tug at the corner of her mouth, but it didn’t stick. She picked at a loose string on her sleeve, nails worrying at it until it frayed. “Doesn’t matter. To them, I’m still too reckless. Too naive. Too trusting for my own good. It’s always been that way.”

Her voice cracked just barely at the end. Cody’s ears pricked — the real her was peeking through, whether she wanted it to or not. He sat on his bed, leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees so he was eye level with her. “Hey. You’re gonna have to explain that. Because from where I’m standing, you’re the least naive person in the locker room. You’ve got more spine than half the roster put together.”

She let out a quiet, humorless laugh. It scraped her throat raw. “Yeah, well… wasn’t always true. Before the Shield, before WWE even looked my way, I worked indie shows no one remembers. Barns, fairgrounds — you name it. Promoters loved me because I was marketable. ‘Look, a girl who can take a bump — let’s put her in a bra and toss her through a table.’ Didn’t matter if I bled for it. Didn’t matter if I could run the ropes better than the guy they were pushing. I was just the sideshow. ‘Bring her out when the crowd gets bored.’”

She didn’t mean to keep going — but it poured out, unstoppable now that she’d cracked the seal.“Got so used to doing it alone. Proving I wasn’t just a body in shorts. Then I met Jon. He was at one of my shows, thought I had something. He was in NXT at the time. So he vouched for me to Hunter. He and Joe and Colby — they treated me like I mattered. Not as a prop. As a soldier. An equal. So yeah — they’re overprotective assholes. But… without them, I probably wouldn’t even be here.”

The room buzzed with the soft hum of the AC unit. Cody didn’t dare interrupt. He just watched her — her throat working around words she hated giving away, her hands trembling just slightly. When she finally glanced at him, there was a flash of embarrassment there, like she’d suddenly realized just how much she’d revealed to him of all people. “Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered, more bite than strength in her tone. “I don’t do the sob story thing. I hate it.”

But Cody didn’t smirk this time. Didn’t tease. His eyes stayed steady, quiet. “Not looking at you like anything. I’m listening. Maybe you don’t get enough of that.”

She blinked. Once. Twice. Then barked a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Great. Now I get to add ‘pity’ to the list of reasons I can’t stand you.”

He leaned back with a huff of amusement, but the warmth stayed in his eyes. “No pity. Just respect. And maybe a little regret that I didn’t see it sooner. You’re hell on wheels in the ring, but outside? I get it now. Why you guard your heart like that.”

She stayed silent, teeth worrying her bottom lip until it hurt. A second passed — then another — before she broke it with a muttered curse. “God, I don’t even know why I told you that. I never tell anyone that. They’d laugh. They’d say I’m soft now.”

Cody shook his head immediately. “Not soft. Never soft. Just tired of fighting alone.”

He let the words hang there like an offering. And for once, she didn’t swing back with a snarl. She just watched him, eyes searching his face for whatever trap she was sure he’d laid — but there was none.

He stood then, scrubbing a hand through his hair like he needed to burn off the sudden rawness.“Anyway. I’m gonna grab a shower before I get too philosophical and ruin my reputation.”

She cracked a dry grin, voice almost fond despite herself. “Wouldn’t want the big bad Rhodes to go soft, huh?”

His answering smirk was softer than it should’ve been, but it made her stomach flip all the same. “Careful, sweetheart — keep talking like that and I might think you don’t hate me anymore.”

Before she could throw a pillow at his head, he ducked into the bathroom, leaving her alone with the echo of her own heartbeat and the terrifying realization: For the first time in forever… she didn’t feel alone. And that scared her more than anything.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

The next few months turned out to be nothing like she’d expected. At first, Y/N braced herself for misery: a long stretch of awkward silences and cheap, infuriating digs from Cody Rhodes every time they had to share a car, a locker room, or an arena hallway. She’d even packed extra headphones just so she wouldn’t have to listen to his smug voice on long drives.

But somewhere between midnight gas station raids and adrenaline crashes in half-lit hotel parking lots, something subtle shifted.

They still bickered — God, they bickered — about everything. Over whether to take the interstate or the backroads, which podcast was less insufferable, who got the last handful of trail mix. She told him he had the emotional depth of a garden rake; he told her she was all sharp tongue and no follow-through.

Yet, under all that static, something warm had begun to flicker.

She learned he never drank energy drinks after sunset because he hated lying awake. He learned exactly how she liked her coffee — black, but with a shot of cheap hazelnut syrup she’d never admit to buying. He started bringing her an extra cup when he knew she’d pretend she didn’t want it but would steal his anyway.

She noticed the way he always checked that the hotel door latched twice before he’d let himself relax. He noticed how she curled her fingers around the seatbelt when she fell asleep in the passenger seat — as if bracing for some old nightmare.

Sometimes, he made her laugh so hard she’d have to bite her knuckle to muffle it. Not the polite chuckle she gave the boys to keep them from asking too many questions — real laughter, the kind that cracked open something she’d welded shut years ago.

And the ring? Together they were chaos on tap. Audiences ate it up: the Shield’s lone wolf and the golden prince side by side, crackling with tension that blurred so perfectly between storyline and reality that half the locker room started taking bets on when they’d drop the act — or if it was ever an act at all.

They were so good that Vince began building entire nights around them. She was still the Shield’s bullet in a flak vest, but with Cody at her side, she got to show a sharper edge — more cunning, more poison, more reckless risk that made the crowd chant her name until the rafters shook.

And off-screen? Well. Off-screen, she was still telling herself it meant nothing. That it was just business. That the way she sometimes caught him watching her when he thought she wouldn’t see was just part of the job.

But late at night, when they’d stumble into some cheap hotel room after a match and collapse on opposite beds, there were moments when she wondered if the line had disappeared altogether.

One night, somewhere between Omaha and Des Moines, it bled out louder than usual. She was leaning against a rental car, hair still damp from the shower she’d rushed through at the arena. Cody stood opposite her, passing a cheap sandwich back and forth because the only diner for miles had closed at midnight.

“—I swear to God, Rhodes, if you tell the boys I ate a gas station BLT, I will smother you in your sleep.”

He barked out a laugh, wiping a crumb from the corner of her mouth with the back of his finger. The touch was so easy now she didn’t even flinch.“Oh, so now you’re worried about your image? After you German-suplexed Ziggler through a barricade tonight?”

She shoved his chest lightly, but she didn’t move away. “Dolph had it coming. And shut up, you loved it.”

Cody tilted his head, that grin softening into something that felt too dangerous in the moonlight. “You know what I loved? Watching you trust me to catch you again tonight. No hesitation this time.”

She rolled her eyes, but her voice went quiet at the edges. “Don’t make it weird. It’s just business.”

He didn’t look away. “Yeah. Sure. Just business.”

For half a second, they were frozen — the cool night air buzzing around them, a radio muttering static in the car. She could smell his shampoo, feel the warmth radiating off him. She should have stepped back. Should have thrown another jab. Instead she muttered, almost to herself, “You’re not as awful as I thought you’d be, you know that?”

He caught it. Of course he did. His mouth curved, slow and victorious. “Careful, Y/N. Don’t want anyone to think we’re friends now do we?”

She laughed — real and reckless — and shoved him harder this time. “In your dreams, Rhodes.”

But later, dozing off against the window as the Iowa highway hummed under the tires, she caught herself replaying that moment on loop.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

Tonight was more of the same chaos — except tonight it felt different, heavier, like a fuse burning toward a powder keg. Y/N had gotten ready faster than usual — gear laced up, hair braided back tight, eyeliner sharper than any blade Colby owned — and slipped out before the boys even realized she’d vanished. She needed a breath of quiet before the noise that always came with them.

They didn’t notice until Jon asked if she’d seen his gloves. Then Joe checked for her in the hallway. Then Colby asked where the hell his phone charger went and realized she’d been gone ten whole minutes.

It took them thirty seconds to split up and sniff her out like a pack of guard dogs.

They found her tucked by a stack of crates down a shadowed hall. But what stopped them cold wasn’t the hidden corner — it was the sound: her laugh, warm and open, like she didn’t know they were listening. Cody Rhodes stood so close to her their boots nearly touched. One hand braced on the crate by her head, the other absently playing with a loose end of her braid. It was casual, almost intimate — too damn familiar for Colby’s eyes.

They caught enough of the hushed conversation to light Jon’s fuse.

“—told you I’d never drop you,” Cody was saying, voice low, almost soft. He tugged her braid playfully. “You never trust me until you have to. Starting to think you just like the thrill.”

She smirked, smacking his wrist away but didn’t move an inch from his chest. “Keep dreaming, pretty boy. You’ve caught me so far. Try it again tonight and maybe I’ll start believing you’re not completely full of shit.”

He leaned closer, breath ghosting her cheek. “I’ll catch you every damn time. Promise.”

That’s when Colby snapped. Boots pounding the concrete, voice a snarl. “Hey! Rhodes — BACK THE HELL UP.”

Cody didn’t flinch. Didn’t even look at him first. His eyes stayed on her another heartbeat before flicking lazily over Colby’s shoulder. His grin was infuriating. “Evening, Colby. We were just talking—”

Colby slammed a palm into Cody’s chest, driving him back a step. “I said back up. Or I’ll put you through that wall.”

Y/N jolted, eyes wide. “Colby, what the hell—!”

Cody laughed, low and mean, pushing back into Colby’s space. Their chests bumped, tension humming electric. “Look at you. Alpha dog routine still working? Or you worried she might finally want something you can’t scare off?”

Jon and Joe skidded up just in time to see Colby rear back and swing first — a full haymaker that cracked against Cody’s jaw so hard it echoed.

“Colby, STOP!” Y/N’s scream barely registered as Cody stumbled, then lunged back, fists swinging. The crates behind them rattled as they crashed into them, locked in a vicious snarl of fists, elbows, curses.

Jon grabbed Colby’s arm but got shoved for his trouble. Joe caught Cody’s shoulder, dragging him back only to get an elbow in the ribs. “Always hiding behind your stupid charm, huh Rhodes?!” Colby spat, teeth bared. “Can’t get her unless we let you, right?!”

Cody’s lip split, blood slick over his teeth — but his grin was feral, a promise of more. “You think you own her? She’s not your damn property, Lopez—”

Y/N shoved between them so hard she nearly fell. “ENOUGH! All of you — STOP!”

But they didn’t. Not until Vince’s roar cracked the hallway like thunder. “HEY! ENOUGH! I SAID ENOUGH!”

Everything froze. Fists cocked, chests heaving. Vince stalked into the circle, suit jacket flaring like a cape, eyes gleaming with both rage and glee. “You boys want to kill each other so bad? Fine. New main event: Seth Rollins versus Cody Rhodes. Tonight. You want blood, do it where it makes me money. Or you’re all fined, you got it?!”

Cody wiped his mouth, eyes still locked on Colby. Colby seethed, barely held in check by Jon’s iron grip on his vest collar.

Y/N’s shoulders shook as she turned on her brothers — eyes bright, voice ragged. “What the hell is wrong with you?! You think I’m too stupid to stand here and talk to someone without you storming in like rabid animals?! You don’t trust him — fine! But do you trust me? Or is this what it’s gonna be forever?!”

Colby flinched, guilt flickering behind the rage but too proud to drop it. Jon looked like he might hit a wall just to vent the tension. Joe’s big hand hovered on her back, grounding her, but she shrugged it off, furious tears welling.

Cody watched her, eyes softer now but still burning for a fight. When she glanced at him, she hated that some part of her chest didn’t tighten in anger — it loosened instead, and she didn’t know what that meant.

Vince pointed at them like an executioner. “You three — gear up. You,” he jabbed at Cody, “get your pretty face cleaned up. Ring in twenty minutes. And you—” He rounded on Y/N, voice dropping. “Better decide whose corner you’re standing in. Because tonight, sweetheart — you don’t get to have both.”

Silence.

Then Cody, a hint of a smirk through his split lip, said just loud enough for her to hear. “Guess you gotta pick, sweetheart. Hope you trust me.”

She didn’t answer him. She couldn’t. Not with Colby’s glare burning a hole through her back and Jon’s wounded stare cutting deeper than any blade. Tonight, lines weren’t just blurred. They were drawn in blood. And for the first time, Y/N wasn’t sure which side she wanted to stand on.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

The air inside the arena vibrated with a tension so sharp you could taste it. Cody’s entrance hit first, but tonight he didn’t strut — he stalked. Jaw tight, eyes locked dead ahead at the ring like it owed him blood and payback in equal measure. Fans screamed, half for him, half for the chaos they knew was brewing.

Then The Shield’s war drums rumbled out. The reaction was a thunderclap: three silhouettes emerging from the crowd, Colby leading with that murder glare etched across his sweat-slick face. Jon and Joe flanked him, bodies coiled tight with fury. Y/N walked behind them this time — not beside, not hidden — trailing just far enough to be apart, close enough to remind everyone who she was.

When they hit ringside, Jon and Joe fell naturally to Colby’s corner, arms folded over the ropes like hellhounds. Y/N hovered at the corner post, but she didn’t climb up. She stayed halfway between Cody’s side and theirs — feet planted on neutral ground no one else seemed to occupy but her alone.

The bell rang.

The first few minutes were technical, precise — two pros testing each other’s limits with crisp grapples, tight reversals, nothing wasted. But it didn’t stay professional for long.

Colby slapped Cody hard across the face during a rope break — the crack echoed all the way to the cheap seats. Cody answered with a vicious forearm that sent spit flying from Colby’s mouth.

“This is personal!” Cole hollered on commentary.

“You think?! These two are trying to kill each other for real, Michael!” JBL barked.

Y/N’s eyes darted back and forth, heart hammering. She hated how her body betrayed her — every stomp Colby landed, every elbow Cody fired back, she felt it like a phantom bruise under her ribs.

Ten minutes in, Cody caught Colby with a slick Disaster Kick out of nowhere — the crowd popped huge, but his landing was ugly. His ankle rolled awkwardly on the canvas with an audible pop and he stumbled into the ropes, teeth bared in a silent snarl of pain.

Colby smelled blood immediately. He hooked Cody under the arm, yanked him up, and dumped him back-first into the turnbuckle so hard the whole ring rattled. Cody crumpled, clutching the ankle, sweat dripping from his brow to the mat in big, sick splatters.

He’s hurt.

Y/N’s lungs squeezed tight — the world narrowed to Cody’s labored breath, the way he tried to stand but immediately buckled again, jaw clamped to stop himself from screaming. Colby stalked him like a wolf circling a deer with a broken leg. Jon barked encouragement from the apron, Joe pounding the turnbuckle.

Don’t do it, Colby. Her hands curled around the rope. Don’t—

Colby hit the ropes, rebounded at full speed — going for the stomp to the back of Cody’s skull. One decisive end to a match turned real.

Y/N didn’t think. She reacted.

She vaulted the ropes in a single fluid motion, boots pounding the mat as she lunged. The crowd shrieked, a wall of white noise as she threw herself between them — arms spread wide, her body a living shield.

Colby skidded to a stop so fast he nearly ate canvas. He stared at her, chest heaving, murder flickering behind wide eyes. “Y/N. Move.” His voice was hoarse, low, but edged in steel.

She didn’t budge. Not an inch. Her breathing was ragged, shoulders trembling under the bright lights. She didn’t dare look back at Cody, didn’t trust herself not to lose her nerve.

Jon and Joe were shouting over the ropes — confusion, betrayal, a mix so thick you could taste it. Colby stepped closer, close enough she could see the tiny tremor in his clenched jaw. Rage softened for half a heartbeat when he noticed her ribcage shuddering like she couldn’t pull in enough air.

“Y/N…” He tried again, quieter this time, a plea buried under the fury. “Please. He’s nothing. He’s—”

She cut him off, voice low and savage. “He’s hurt.”

A fresh wave of chants crashed over them — half the arena booing, half screaming her name, torn in every direction. Behind her, she felt Cody shift — a hand brushed her lower back, feather-light. No smirk this time, no quip. Just a broken rasp: “Y/N, it’s okay. Let him finish it.”

She squeezed her eyes shut — once, hard enough to burn the tears back into her skull where they belonged. Not here. Not in front of them. She swallowed every emotion on her tongue, and when she opened her eyes, they were stone again. She stepped back slowly, uncoiling herself from the blast zone, but she didn’t look at any of them. Not Colby, not Cody, not Jon or Joe.

And then she did what none of them expected — she ducked under the ropes, dropped to the floor, and just… walked away. No fanfare, no explanation. Just her shoulders rigid, boots pounding the ramp until the shadows swallowed her whole.

The commentary table was a mess of disbelief: “Y/N just… abandoned The Shield?!”

“She protected Cody Rhodes — did we see that right?!”

“What does this mean for The Shield? What does this mean for Y/N?!”

In the ring, Cody slumped to one knee, watching her go with something raw flickering behind bruised eyes. Colby didn’t move right away. The hurt on his face cut deeper than any stomp ever could. Tonight, lines weren’t just blurred. They were erased. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N wasn’t sure who she was fighting for anymore.

Y/N barely felt her boots hit the ground as she staggered through the maze of halls. Voices passed her left and right — crew, agents, security — but they were static under the deafening ringing in her ears. Her pulse drummed so loud it drowned out everything except the fire in her chest. Y/N shoved through the locker room door so hard it bounced off the cinderblock. For a second she just stood there, staring at her gear bag like it had personally betrayed her.

Then she broke.

Boots, wrist tape, shirts — she flung them across the benches. A bottle of water cracked open mid-flight, splattering the walls. She ripped a spare pair of gloves in half. Her travel hoodie got kicked so hard it slid under Jon’s bench.

She couldn’t contain herself, the panic rising in her chest. She swung blindly, her fist connecting with one of the metal lockers. She grunts out in pain, her hand instantly throbbing from the impact. Her knuckles are now bright red, no doubt a gnarly bruise getting ready to form on them.

She didn’t touch their gear though — not one thing. She couldn’t.

Her breath sawed in and out until her throat burned. And before the reality of the mess caught up to her, she bolted — pushing back through the door, down another hallway, ignoring the shocked faces of a few green rookies frozen in place.

She needed to get out. She needed space. Needed air. She had to find some sort of haven that quieted the noise in her mind. She didn’t know how her body knew where to take her, but somehow, she found her way outside the venue. The summer night slapped her in the face like ice water. She stomped past rows of rental cars and cargo trucks until she hit a back wall next to the loading dock.

Then she screamed. Raw, primal — a sound that dragged the fight out of her lungs and left her empty.

She slid down the wall, gear scraping the brick, until she sat in a heap. Hands tangled in her hair. Shoulders shaking, though she wouldn’t cry. She would not cry. She hated this. Hated feeling big feelings. Hated that it wasn’t just work anymore. Hated how alive he made her feel and how her boys — her family — looked at her like she’d stabbed them in the back for letting herself care.

Back inside, the guys were furious. Or maybe more confused. Jon was the first through the curtain, boots pounding the concrete as he practically shouldered it open. Joe shadowed him, his broad frame filling the hallway. Colby lagged just a step back — and for once, he was the quiet one. They’d been calling her name the whole way from the arena floor.

“Y/N! C’mon, sweetheart, answer us!” Jon’s voice bounced off the cinderblock walls, rougher than he meant it to be.

“Y/N, you better not be hiding just to mess with us,” Joe grumbled, but the tension in his shoulders said he didn’t believe it even as he said it.

Colby didn’t call out. He didn’t trust his voice not to crack open like glass. They hit the locker room door in near unison — Jon wrenching it open so hard the handle banged the wall. “Y/N—?”

But the word died in his throat. The room was empty — but it was anything but quiet. Her absence howled louder than any shout could have. Her gear bag lay gutted on the bench, its contents flung in wild arcs like a storm had ripped through. Wrist tape shredded into curls on the floor. A half-full water bottle leaking into a dark stain on the concrete. One boot flung so far it nearly lodged under the lockers.

Colby stood frozen in the doorway, eyes tracking the mess like he was seeing it frame by frame — an unspooling of her mind they’d never been allowed to witness.

“Jesus,” Joe whispered, bending to pick up a tangle of ring gear. It dripped water from where she’d hurled it. He squeezed the fabric, knuckles white. “She’s never… not her. She doesn’t lose it. Not like this.”

Jon turned a slow circle, breathing like he’d run a mile flat out. That’s when he notices the caved in locker. “This ain’t just mad. This is— it’s panic. It’s her head cracking open, man. We did this.”

Colby stepped inside last. His boots crushed a torn wrist wrap underfoot. He didn’t move to pick it up — just stared at it, jaw working behind clenched teeth. He finally rasped, “She doesn’t do cages. She never has. And we locked her in one, expecting her to pick sides like some damn trophy.”

Joe slammed a hand to the row of lockers, the metal clanging under his palm. “She’s on her own right now. Panicked. We promised we’d never let that happen again—”

Jon turned, stabbing a finger toward the door, voice tight with command. “Then what the hell are we waiting for? She’s ours. We find her. Now.”

Joe nodded once, hard, already halfway out the door. Colby lingered just a moment longer, eyes flicking to the chaos she’d left behind. Quietly, to himself more than the others, he muttered, “We fix this. No matter what it costs.”

Then he turned on his heel, boots echoing in step with the other two as they stormed back into the maze of hallways — calling her name into every shadow, every echo, ready to tear the whole building apart if that’s what it took to bring her home again.

Y/N’s head stayed buried in her arms, forehead pressed hard to her knees. She’d been sitting on that freezing concrete for what felt like forever, just letting the cold bite at her back and the rough wall scrape her shoulders through her shirt. She hated how stupidly dramatic she felt. She was a professional. A fighter. And here she was, choking on air because her world suddenly didn’t make sense anymore.

When the arena door creaked open, she didn’t lift her head. Not at first. Heavy steps, slower than usual. A low grunt. She knew that sound by now — the subtle wince Cody tried to hide every time he had a new bruise to nurse. A soft thud beside her. He dropped down with a pained exhale, his shoulder brushing hers as he leaned against the same wall. She felt the heat of him before she dared to look.

When she did, her chest squeezed painfully.

A fresh split in his brow leaked a thin line of dried blood toward his temple. His lip was purple and cracked. He was cradling a half-melted ice pack against the worst of the swelling in his jaw. But his eyes — those infuriating, stupidly kind eyes — were locked on her.

“Hey,” he rasped, voice sanded raw but careful. “You okay?”

She let out an unsteady laugh, instantly annoyed at how shaky it came out. “Rhodes, you look like a horror movie and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

He tried to smile, winced when it tugged the cut on his lip. “Well… you look like you’ve been to war. So, even trade.”

She snorted, wiped her face with her sleeve. “Shut up.”

He leaned in just a fraction, trying to read her the way he always did. “Y/N… talk to me.”

She didn’t. Instead, she yanked the ice pack from his hand, ignoring his small protest. She scooted closer, knees pressed against his thigh, and carefully pressed the ice to his bruised cheek.

“Hold still, you big baby,” she muttered.

His eyes fluttered shut under her touch. When they opened again, they dropped to her hands — to the knuckles she didn’t realize were still red and raw from where she’d smashed them into a locker.

He cursed under his breath, reached up to take her wrist in his calloused fingers. “You did this?”

She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. His thumb ghosted over the split skin, so gentle it made her throat burn. “I’m fine,” she lied, voice small.

He laughed, humorless and thick with something deeper. “You gotta stop saying that word when it’s the biggest lie you tell people.”

“Don’t���” she breathed, but he cut her off.

“I mean it. I never wanted you in the middle. I swear to God. You shouldn’t have to pick sides — not with them, not with me, not for anyone. You deserve better than that. Better than me.”

“Stop it—”

“No. I will never be the reason you break your damn hand on a locker ever again, you hear me?” His voice cracked, low but urgent. He pressed her bruised knuckles to his chest, right over the steady drum of his heart. “You’re worth so much more than this stupid shit. And I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to stand alone tonight.”

Her eyes stung — but she refused to let tears fall. Instead, she scoffed, trying to wrap herself back in sarcasm like armor. “Damn it, Rhodes. Why do you gotta be nice now? You were easier to hate when you were an arrogant bastard.”

His mouth twitched. “Still an arrogant bastard. Just your favorite one now, apparently.”

She huffed a tiny laugh, despite herself — and that laugh broke her guard wide open. She leaned in, her free hand drifting up to cup his battered cheek. Her thumb brushed over his eyebrow, careful not to reopen the cut. His breath hitched. And before she could stop herself — before she could talk herself out of it — she kissed him. Soft, deliberate, more honest than any word she’d spoken in weeks.

He stilled, surprise flaring bright in his eyes — then melted into her, his hand sliding to her hip, tugging her closer until there was no air left between them but the taste of bruised lips and old secrets.

When they broke apart, his forehead rested against hers, both of them breathing too fast. He whispered, voice hoarse but certain, “If you want me to stop... if you want me gone... just say it. I swear to you, Y/N, I’ll never be the reason you feel like this again.”

She swallowed, fingertips brushing the rough line of his jaw. “Don’t you dare go anywhere.”

Neither of them noticed the quiet figures standing just inside the door they’d left ajar. Jon, Joe, and Colby stood frozen — guilt, relief, and something like wonder flickering in their eyes as they watched their girl wrapped up in the last man they’d ever wanted for her. But watching the way she cradled Cody’s face, the way he held her like something fragile but fierce — they finally saw it for what it was.

Joe’s voice broke the silence first, low and certain: “She doesn't need saving from him.”

Jon nodded, lips twitching in the ghost of a grin. “She just needs us to remember she’s stronger than all of us put together.”

Colby didn’t say a word. He just watched her laugh softly when Cody cracked some quiet, dumb joke. And for the first time in a long time, he realized: maybe the best way to protect her was to let her have something — someone — just for herself. And maybe, they’d finally help her smile the way she used to.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

Y/N helped Cody to his feet, the two of them slowly making their way back inside. He held her hand gently, rubbing the bruised knuckles she’s sporting as softly as he could. They walk through the door together, Y/N hearing her heart pounding loudly despite having calmed down. She knew she had to talk to them. They would have found what she did to the locker room by now, and are no doubt waiting for some sort of explanation about what happened.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Cody whispers. “I’m right behind you.”

Y/N smiles but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. They reach the locker room door and she slowly pushes it open, the hinges creaking as always when she does. As she expected, Jon, Joe, and Colby are all standing there waiting for her. But what she wasn’t expecting was to see all of her stuff cleaned up.

Every piece of evidence that showed how badly she crashed out was gone. Her bag was put together nicely on the bench, all three boys looking as if they just got caught doing something they weren’t supposed to.

“Hey…” Y/N says softly, Cody following behind her. He doesn’t fully step into the space, not wanting to infiltrate what they consider their safe haven. “Um, I’m assuming you saw all of…” She gestures around to the whole room, “that.”

“You mean you going all hulk smash on your stuff?” Jon says with a hint of sarcasm. “Yeah, we saw.”

“How’s your hand?” Colby asks, nodding towards the locker with an Y/N sized fist indent.

Y/N swallows thickly, shrugging. “Sore,” she answers. “It’s not as bad as when I punched you in the face though,” she nods over to Joe.

He huffs out what sounds like a laugh, “Yeah, well, a jaw of steel will do that.”

Y/N glances back at Cody briefly, trying to find the right thing to say. He sends her that small grin that has managed to worm its way into her head, despite her trying hard to keep it out. She exhales, easing her nerves before facing her family. “Listen guys, I’m–”

“If you’re gonna apologize, you can save it,” Jon cuts her off.

Y/N feels her heart drop. She knew they’d probably be mad, but she wasn’t expecting him to not even hear her out. Does this mean they’re gonna excommunicate her? Vince probably would have them wait to do it in front of a camera for drama purposes. Y/N can feel the anxieties returning as she thinks about being sent away by them. The boys could clearly see her internal struggle and they all share a similar look.

That’s when Colby steps forward, “Because if anyone should say sorry, it’s us.”

Y/N blinks, “What?”

“We put you in a bad position,” Joe says, his voice rumbling through the locker room. “You had to do all of this because we got into a fight. We shouldn’t have been surprised when you and Rhodes ended up being buddies after spending months on the road together,” he glares slightly in Cody’s direction, his protectiveness still not fading. “We shouldn’t have made you feel like you had to choose.”

Y/N’s mouth opened but nothing came out. She looked between them, eyes flicking from Colby to Jon to Joe, trying to process that they were actually apologizing. Jon cleared his throat, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot. “You’ve always had our backs. Even when we didn’t deserve it. Tonight just… proved that we need to do better by you.”

Joe crossed his arms but his voice was softer than usual. “You’re our sister. Doesn’t matter what storyline Vince cooks up. Doesn’t matter what suit wants what pop. You don’t owe us your sanity to keep this family glued together.”

Colby’s jaw flexed. He was the last to look her dead in the eye, stepping a little closer. “We got so busy fighting for you, we forgot you can fight for yourself. Hell — you’ve been doing it longer than any of us.”

Y/N sniffed — and immediately scowled when Colby looked like he might say something about it. She jabbed him lightly in the ribs with her knuckles. “If you tell anyone I almost cried, I’m throwing you through the announce table next week.”

Colby cracked a tiny grin, his shoulders easing for the first time all night. “Fair deal.”

Jon pulled her into his chest first. No big speech — just a tight squeeze that knocked the breath out of her lungs for half a second. She hid her face in his shirt, muttering something about him smelling like cheap soap and bad decisions. Joe looped an arm around both of them next, pressing his forehead to hers for a second. “We clean up your messes. You clean up ours. Same as always, yeah?”

She nodded, pretending her eyes weren’t wet. “Yeah.”

Colby waited until she pulled back, then wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind, his chin hooking over her head like he’d done a thousand times before. “We love you. Even if you have trash taste in company.” He cut his eyes at Cody, who raised an eyebrow but stayed silent — letting them have this. Finally, Colby stepped back just enough to jab a finger in Cody’s direction. “You. Hurt her? Blink wrong at her? You won’t see us coming, Rhodes.”

Jon clapped a heavy hand on Cody’s shoulder for emphasis. “We mean that in the warmest, most brotherly way possible.”

Cody smirked, even though it tugged at his split lip. He stepped forward, extending a hand to Colby first. “Fair enough. She’s worth every threat.”

Colby studied him for a beat that felt like a year, then gripped his hand hard enough to crack bones. Cody didn’t flinch — which, admittedly, earned him a flicker of respect he’d never get them to say out loud. He turned to Joe and Jon next, offering the same handshake — an unspoken promise they didn’t have to spell out in words. He’d never be the reason she felt alone again.

Y/N cleared her throat when the testosterone standoff started dragging. “Alright, enough. If we stand here any longer, someone’s gonna start chest-bumping someone and then I’m gonna have to call HR.”

She nudged Cody’s side with her elbow. “Come on, tough guy. Let’s get out of here before they decide to pull you into another three-on-one ‘lesson’ about respecting me.”

Cody chuckled, leaning down just enough so only she could hear, “If they try, I’ll just hide behind you.”

“Damn right you will.” She shoved his chest, careful of the bruises. She turned back to her boys, pointing two fingers at her own eyes, then at each of them in turn. “I’m still mad you made me punch a locker. Next time, we talk out whatever issues we have, okay?”

Jon winked. Joe gave her shoulder a squeeze. Colby only rolled his eyes. “Go before we change our minds and duct tape Rhodes to a forklift.”

She flipped them all off playfully and stepped out the door, Cody trailing a step behind her — close enough that his fingertips brushed hers once they were in the hall. They walked in silence for a few beats until she leaned into his side, voice quieter now that it was just them. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“For what?” He glanced down, brow furrowing gently.

“For… tonight. For not making me feel stupid about… everything. For sticking by me when you didn’t have to.”

Cody stopped walking, tugged her gently until she was facing him under the dim flicker of an old hallway light. He ran his thumb over her knuckles again, soft as the breeze. “I’d stand behind you, beside you… hell, in front of you if you let me. You don’t owe me a damn thing, Y/N. But I swear to God — I’ll earn whatever piece of you you give me.”

She huffed, embarrassed by how warm her chest went at that. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Yeah.” His grin was crooked, half-swollen. “But you like me anyway.”

She didn’t answer. She just rose up, cupped his jaw gentle as glass, and kissed him again. Slow. Sure. Hers. When she pulled back, he pressed their foreheads together, breathless but laughing softly. “You keep doing that, sweetheart, and your boys are gonna break every rib I’ve got left.”

She smirked, tapping his lips with her finger. “Then don’t piss me off and maybe I’ll protect you again.”

His laughter echoed down the hall as she tugged him forward, hand in hand — both of them a little battered, but lighter than they’d felt in months.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

13 years later…

Y/N_WWE

liked by americannightmarecody, wwerollins, romanreigns, and 54,986 others

tagged: americannightmarecody

Y/N_WWE: 13 years ago, I told myself I hated him. 8 years ago, I promised in front of a bunch of people (and one extremely judgmental priest) that I’d love him forever. Tonight, he still snores in my ear, still steals my fries, still calls me ‘sweetheart’ when he wants something — and I wouldn’t change a single second. People always ask how we’ve made it work this long in a world where nothing lasts. I think it’s simple: he lets me be exactly who I am, even when I’m a mess. And somehow, after all these years, he still looks at me like I’m the best thing that ever happened to him (which I am, obviously). Here’s to more late-night road trips, more stolen pizza slices, more me pretending I don’t love him when he leaves his boots in the hallway. Happy 8 years married, americannightmarecody — thank you for loving every sharp edge and soft part of me. You’re my favorite plot twist. ❤️🤍💙

View all 12,567 comments

americannightmarecody: You’ll always be my favorite part of the story. Thanks for choosing me, even when I snore. Happy anniversary, sweetheart. ❤️

wwerollins: She did hate him. This is 100% true. Happy for you both though. 😂🖤

jonmoxley: Shocked you two didn’t burn the house down by now. Congrats, ya weirdos.

natbynature: Love like this makes my heart so full. Happy anniversary, you two deserve every bit of it. 🥹❤️

mikethemiz: Gross. But also adorable. Happy anniversary! 😂

trishstratuscom: Two legends. One love. Happy anniversary!

wrestlegirlie13: THEY ARE THE BLUEPRINT. 😭❤️

heelqueen4eva: This is the only real love story I trust tbh.

wwemomentsdaily: Not me crying at work, BYE 😭😭😭

indypunkprincess: The fact that y’all lasted thru all the chaos >>> #goals

y/nfanclubofficial: We been knew she was gonna marry him since 2012 😌 #powercouple

[van1llafairy]

♡ Coffee stains...

pairing: college!Ellie x barista!Reader

Summary: Ellie who's hit with a smaaaallll crush on her barista... nothing too serious, right?...

content: fluff, slow burn, slight loser ellie behaviour, NOT PROPERLY PROOFREAD....

words: 2.3k

A/N: this has been in drafts TOO long... im so unmotivated... siiigh.........

A new tiny Coffee shop had just opened, standing conveniently close to the crusty college building, now, Ellie wasn't one for coffee, she's not up for overpriced liquid Adrenaline or the bitter aftertaste, if she wants a caffeine buzz she'll take a Red bull, please and thank you, buttt... Dina dragged her there being the coffee fiend she is. there is no escaping for Ellie.

"Just a latte! oh and maybe a slice of that?" Dina shrugged to the display case with a fresh cake crowned with icing, sitting pretty next to a few pastries behind the glass, shielding them away from the little kid who's face was pressed against the surface drooling for the sweets, the whloe shop was busy actually... its doing well for being open for... what, a week? two? and the tip jar was fat and half full already.

a handful of people were sat at booths, the room was swimming with golden sunlight pouring in through the wide windows revealed by pinned back curtains and a steady hum of conversation/music from the radio played.

"Whatcha want, Els?" Dina nudges Ellie who's oogling, not the food but the pretty barista behind the counter; Your hair swept out your face, apron on, tag with your name in italics adjusted nicely under the strap and patiently anticipating an answer from her,

"Ellie." Dina's lips are pressed into a tight line, and jabs Ellie, effectively jumpstarting her to remember manners. she relised she's been asked a question and she's making intense eye contact with you. "uuhh, yeeaah......"

she has no clue whats going on....

the second her eyes fell on you, she's intrigued. yourmaybe its the fact you looked a little familiar, like she'd seen your face in another plcae before or heard the sound of your voice. or maybe it's a natual thing about you, something appealing that drew Ellie in to listen to your voice, not your words....

wait? what was the question again?

awkwardly. in silence.

"i can give you a few more moments - if you need! there's no rush..." you offer, slowly backing off from the counter your forearm rested on while scribbling orders down. and with a feeble 'yes, please.' from ellie, you twirl arround to prepare a cup of Dina's order.

Dina squinted at ellie.

"What?" she pressed her brows turning to Dina,

"nooothing..." she let her gaze drift... OBVIOUSLY, its not nothing. "you just got that look in your eyes." she snickers.

How could she not?Ellie let a scornful huff out. "cant i glance in the direction of a girl anymore?" she turned back to watch the art of coffee making by your nimble hands,

admiring the choreography from reaching over the counter, pouring the steaming liquid ingo a cup, then cream, then whatever else; its all so rhythmic, like you've done this a million times before and you probably have...

All Too Suddenly, you whip around and it startles Ellie,

You slide down the drink on the counter with a slice of cake and glance to her, "made up your mind yet?"

she blinks. and sees Dina stare at her from the corner of her peripheral.

"yep," she hasn't.... "er, can I get aaaa... " Her eyes quickly darted to the menu above, ".....a number three..." Ellie splutters, wincing...

you point your nose upward, trying to catch a glimpse at where Ellie could see numbers that weren't prices on the menu overhead, "is... that an iced tea...?" you asked ever so politely, Ellie has to mentally kick herself again...

Oh, that soft, soft voice of your's is already fucking with her and you'd barely uttered a few sentences directed to her... Her tail is tucked, safe to say.

Ellie just nodded. Not ever peeling her now rounded eyes from your reaction, noting the soften of your squint before you sink down onto your heels. you nod back at her nod. your face rests. good.

you're just going along with it... and so is Ellie.

Dina nipped Ellie's arm, leaving crescents from her nails and glares at Ellie from the pinch of her eyes, 'stop staring...' Dina utters as she then slipped out her wallet, "nine twenty-five, cash or card?" you ask before there's a beep of payment and the clanking of a wide rimmed cups set against the table. Dina sighs.

"God, you're SO smooth." Dina bubbled in her latte with a snicker, followed slurp.

"mmm, foamy...." Dina hummed into the brim of her steaming drink. "wanna sip?"

"looks like bath suds." Ellie groans and shifts, leaning back into the hard, plastic chair. "suit yourself - you're missing out though," Dina slurped again as the auburn across her stirs her drink around with a swish of her wrist, stretched out away from her as if the cup held poison.

Ellie never liked tea either.

Never tried iced tea.

a scribble of blue catches her eye and she turns over the plastic in her palm, now pulling the cup closer to her face to see the little stars and a half ass, deformed planet.

Along with it is scribbled 'to match your pins' and Ellie glances at her slumped bag by her feet.

God, your handwriting is terrible; rushed. but, God, did it feel good for such an insignificant detail to be noticed by you.

she cant help but let the goofy grin widen from ear to ear. ohhh, that smile she can never supress, Dina stares at her as if confronting a maniac, "uh oh.... i know that smile......." Ellie just brings the cup to her lips and gulps, its awful.

too cold, too watery, too bitter, but its all thrown out the window when she looks at the itty bitty baby-head shaped planet.

"...nothing," Ellie whispers, glancing up to see you move behind the counter, pouring a drink.

"... just a shitty drawing of a planet."

its enough for Dina's eyes to roll from embarrassment, she could never wrap her head around how Ellie could flush pink as a peach from such a small act, "you're an idiot..." she murmurs with a scoffed giggle while Ellie takes another sip, swallowing and grimacing.

YES, she indeed was. she was only becoming more and more of an idiot every day she strut through the double doors, but quickly her confidence dwindled into a dawdle up to the counter and requested 'a small iced tea, thanks.' with a flash of her teeth, acting cool, smooth as if she weren't hyping herself up on the walk there, other times calling Dina up to get her to read her tictok positive affirmations ripped DIRECTLY from the slideshow.

once your back turned, she'd pat her forehead for sweat, just being in the same location made her nervous... "was that too weird...?" she'd mutter to herlsef, overthinking every little blink or pitch change.

oh, and heaven FORBID, her or your hand make brisk contact. Her poor diary would never hear the end of it.

it's become routine by now!

in the mornings, if she didn't have class, Ellie would grab a drink, slide into a booth with a textbook, that in any other situation she'd be catching up on, but she's lined up in perfect direction of getting visuals to go along with her daydreams of you.

She's literally doing part of your job, cleaning her table, wiping it down, making it tidy, sometimes you'd walk by and almost miss the used mug at the table seeing at that was the ONLY thing amiss on it. you'd pick up the used cup, behind it was a crisp tenner and a number scribbled on a clean napkin. a phone number, ‘the drink was very sweet, just like you ;)’ written besides it…

honestly, it's a win-win! you'd get a fat tip and she'd get a warm smile with some sort of familiarity behind your greetings.... she was sort of a 'regular' at this point.

Monday, Ellie's got a full schedule. Tuesday, you had mascara on. Wednesday, you had new lip gloss. Thursday, you tossed your hair in a bun. today, your nails are painted a new colour. she'd caught glimpse when you were cleaning a table, wiping down the surface and her eyes are glued to the fresh blue colour on your nails.

you turn, step closer, shit! are you coming over here?! did you realise Ellie was staring again?! she panics! pretended to be busy- ...busy reading her textbooks, she slams her face down, Smashing her nose into the table with a thud, knocking over the drink, and winces, "fuck!" just as quickly, she pulls up. now all she can smell is printed paper and metallic.

"you alright...?!" a panicked voice chimed and Ellie instantly recognised it as yours, "...yeah," she feebly reassured.... beneath a hand clasping over her scrunched nose, tears blurring her vision as you came into view, "this is nothin'..." she pulled the corner of her lips, something of a smile... a very pained smile. she grabbed the cup rolling on it's side on the table and standing it back up, all it's content is drenching her blank notebook. blood dribbled down her cupid's bow, spotted the table which only alerted you more,

"do... do you need a towel, or..?" she nods, keeping her unbreakable smooth act as if there wasn't blood oozing into her palm, "a towel would be nice..." you're already half way to the counter like you're on a mission, "pinch it! i'll be right back-"

she does so, feeling the sting and instinctually sniffling back, watching as you hurry to the counter. the napkin's rough; more paper than tissue really.

Great. now Ellie's actually gotten your attention. not in the way she'd always anticipated..... she'd kind of hoped you'd see her one day and realise how... i dont know, charming? attractive..? ..she could be... maybe...... not bloody, not spooked, or embarrassed or clumsy. not like right now.

she rubbed the throb behind her nose and squeezed her eyes shut...... whats more embarrassing now? slamming her face into the table or the reason she slammed her face? she was probably caught with dreamy eyes anyways.

Ellie felt a light touch sink onto her shoulder, she peeked up, straightening the hunch in her shoulders,

"alright, alright.... lemme see..." you crouched next to her drawn out chair, unease flooding your eyes and knitting your brows together with a damp cloth clutched in the hand that wasn't resting on her shoulder - waiting for Ellie to get the cue its alright to drop her hand.

she felt dizzy from your presence alone, or maybe its the onset of a concussion... either way being so close to you, face to face made her stomach do flips, she can't tell if it's from excitement or nerves though.

she wished it was the other way around right now. wanted to be the one to he reaching out to your shoulder and look you sincerely, wipe away her teary eyes and reassure you she was a hundred percent alright. Despite the blood.

She's just got to search for the right words to be convincing and comforting at the same time through the haze on the oncoming headache.

your sharp hiss and wince make it teeter more to nerves. " are you alright now..?", pressing the damp cloth to her nose, its not broken.... just bleeding. you stand when Ellie takes grip of the cloth from you and immediately get to work mopping up what spilt on the table with another paper napkin...

Ellie never responded to that question. Just kind of sat there feeling stupid. she's never showing her face in this shop again.

"...and that's how i messed everything up. she now thinks im stupid and hates me and...."

"i mean, i wouldnt try to disagree with that opinion...." Dina's voice answered over the phone.

Ellie's laid on her twin mattress, grey spread cover barely covering the edges, blankets bundled as she's been twisting in them every time shes punched in the tummy by regret as she updated Dina over the phone.

"thanks. i feel so much better, deen..." A groan ripped through her throat. "Hey, don't act like this is my fault! You had the chance to act like a normal human being but you ended up with a nosebleed. Actually did you say she helped you?" Dina crunched, speaking between mouth full of Pringles. "that girl paid attention to you. You should be happy if anything."

Her brows pinch together. happy? She rolled her eyes, scoffing. Happy, right. She rolls onto her stomach and smushed her cheek into a pillow, "no, I'm thrilled. I heard some guy snicker behind me... And she looked at me with pity."

"Well..." Dina crunched a final time before swallowing and picking up the phone making her audio clearer. "She did go though the hassle of grabbing a cloth and helping you.... That's saying something..."

Ellie considers this. Yeah, you did. Dina just goes back to munching as she let's Ellie do the math.

"meaning... She cares at least a little. Meaning you still have chance." Ellie turns again, now on her back, "yeah... I guess that makes sense..."

Ding! Her phone blinks awake with a notification, she punches the pin in and sees a message from a new number, probably a scammer....

"Hey, I was wondering if you're ok now," Ellie's jaw ached from how hard it fell open. she'd forgotten about writing her number down! Now you're texting her! first! She reads aloud to Dina "that looked super painful, hope your nose isn't broken."

"She typed that?" Dina chimed, surprised you texted, "Dina, I'm in love." She's face first in a pillow, trying to smother off her smile from ear to ear. Just as wide as the first time you'd done something so small for her. She LOVED that, she CRAVED that, she goes all tingly and dizzy thinking about you doing those things.

"You said that about cat." "Shut up! Be happy for me! Actually, what do I say now? Just act smooth right..?"

"Act smooth..." Dina frowns but accepts this is her friend...