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baronessvonglitter · 3 months

Text

Halftime Show

Joel Miller, Javier Pena, Dave York, Frankie Morales, Marcus Moreno x f!sexworker!reader (lucky girl)

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: you're an escort hired for a private Super Bowl party hosted by a mysterious client and his four friends

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, reader's work name is "Angel", reader is a sex worker, mildly dubious consent (though she does state that the men can do as they want, it's her first experience in sex work), rough sex (but no violence done to reader), group sex, threesome to sixsome, oral sex (f & m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, double p in v, anal sex & fingering, multiple penetration, hand jobs, face fucking, facial, verbal abuse/humiliation, squirting, swallowing, creampie, spitroasting, reader gets slapped w/a dick for a bit, porn without plot, you know.. all the sweet stuff.

Author's Note: another cross-post from AO3 but honestly, football is barely mentioned so if you want you can ignore the whole Super Bowl aspect. Y'all might know by now I love a little romance in my smut but this particular fic has zero romance. Reader is there to do a job and leaves having done it very well. Also.. I'm considering creating a part 2 featuring more Pedro Boys, so any input on that is welcome!

FULL MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

DAVE YORK MASTERLIST | JAVIER PENA MASTERLIST

It's your first day as an escort and you're a little nervous. Okay, a lot nervous. You never know what you're going to expect from clients, but these guys you're about to meet have been pre-screened and even had to turn in blood tests just to be considered as clients. The escort service you work for is very prestigious. You're even driven to the location by a security detail who is tasked to wait outside for you. This makes you feel a little better.

You take a quick look at your outfit before you leave the car. The rule is you show up in character and leave in character. No real names, no background stories, just a persona and an exchange of goods. Simple as that. Should be easy enough.

Taking a deep breath, you exit the car and go up to the front door.

The doorbell rings, and Dave York springs from the sofa, a little smirk on his lips. "Guys, I think she's here," he announces, and the rest of the group look up from the Super Bowl game, groaning when Dave mutes the sound even though it's just gone to commercial.

"Who?" Frankie Morales asks, swigging a beer.

"The halftime entertainment," Dave answers mysteriously.

Marcus Moreno and Joel Miller trade inquisitive glances. Javier Peña raises his brow. He knows what Dave means.

Dave brings you into the living room and you take a quick survey of your surroundings: the home is nicer than most, two stories, decorated tastefully but with an obvious woman's touch. You give him a once-over. He's forty-ish, handsome, clean-shaven.

"The wife got the house in the divorce," Dave tells you, as if reading your mind. "This is my last weekend here, so let's make it count!" He raises his glass of whiskey to the guys, most of whom also salute with their drinks. They are all eyeing you like a pack of dogs that haven't eaten in days.

Marcus, a kind-looking man with dark eyeglasses who gives you Clark Kent vibes, smiles awkwardly at you, blushing. "Aren't you going to introduce us?" he asks Dave politely.

"Angel," you give your working name, smiling at each of the men. They're all cute: some scruffy, some dapper.

Dave smirks. "I'm Dave, and these are my buddies Marcus, Frankie, Joel, and Javier." Each of the guys smiles or nods at you as they're introduced.

"I heard you guys are looking to get wild," you say, opening your winter coat to reveal your see-through lingerie. Joel, Javier, and Dave whoop in excitement. Marcus and Frankie are more reticent but can't take their eyes off you. "What do you plan on doing with little ol' me?" you ask innocently, kneeling on the cushioned ottoman in the middle of the living room. You glide your hands over your body and smile as the men shift in their seats, watching you, getting hard already at the idea of you offering yourself.

Dave is the first to put his hands on you, first on your hips then grabbing your ass. Joel, an older man with graying hair and green flannel shirt, interrupts him, rising from his seat. "Now, who told you you get to go first?" he asks in a deep voiced Texan accent.

"First? We're running a train on this girl?" Javier asks from his seat, a cigarette burning between his lips. He's dressed like someone from the 1970s but his clothes fit him well, accentuating a lean physique.

"You can do whatever you want with me," you tell them with confidence. "But of course, no hitting, no biting, no leaving marks." You are resolute on this, as is your employer.

"Hell, darlin', we're not monsters," Joel says, his eyes full of concern for you. The others chime in that they aren't into really rough stuff. Only Dave looks a little disappointed by your rule.

"I'd expect you to be more methodical about this," Javier tells Dave, rising from his seat and casting an amused glance at his friend. He eyes you up and down then reaches into your bra to cup your breast while his other hand dives between your thighs. "Christ, she's already wet. And so fucking tight. You haven't been doing this kind of work long, have you, baby?"

"You all are my first clients," you admit, your breath hitching as his thick fingers tease you.

Javier manages a small smile then looks over at the group. "You haven't thought about these guys," he tells Dave, and nods at Frankie and Marcus. "They're completely baffled by this."

"We're not, I know exactly what's going on," insists Frankie, an adorable middle-aged guy wearing a t-shirt, cargo pants and baseball cap. His innocence is palpable and quite touching.

Dave and Javier's hands are still on you, grabbing and groping. It's a good start. "I'm paying for her. I should get to go first," Dave complains.

A few of the guys (well, okay, Javier and Dave) start to bicker about it, fueled by testosterone and alcohol. Joel strides up to you, effectively taking you away from Dave and Javier. "It's kind of a shame that no one's puttin' her feelings into consideration. She's gonna be providin' a huge service for us. Least we can do is give her a little pleasure beforehand." With that, he takes you and places you on the ottoman, kneeling between your open thighs. He rips open the crotch of your lingerie and dives in, sucking on your pussy. Your initial shock gives way to thrill as you register the warm, wet stiffness of his tongue rasping your folds, your clit, not taking his time about it. Your fingers curl into his hair as you lift your thighs back. You're still on the clock, still giving a show, even if this part is currently for your benefit. With Joel's aid you manage to take the now-ruined lingerie off and are naked but for your knee-high stockings.

"Way to get the party started," Javier says approvingly. "I'm not about to waste any time." He goes to you and sits you up. You take a moment to admire the bulge in those tight trousers before he pulls them down enough to take out his thick shaft. You obediently open your mouth to accept it and he slowly moves into your throat, allowing you to get used to him. Saliva pools in your mouth as you start to moan around his dick, still exhilarated by Joel's ravishing you with his tongue. You feel a hand massaging your breast and look over to see Frankie, his puppy dog eyes wide with wonder, as if he can't believe you're real.

"That feels so good," you tell him, sensing he likes praise. He lights up, encouraged by you, and continues to pinch and pull at your nipple before sucking on it, extracting a pleasured moan from your lips before you go back to sucking off Javier.

Marcus and Dave stand back. Marcus looks flustered and Dave has his hands on his hips, making a face. He's figuring out where to squeeze in but at the same time doesn't want to share.

Meanwhile you're keeping busy with Javier's cock in your mouth, Frankie's mouth on your breast, and Joel still lapping at you between your thighs. The most exquisite feelings comes over you and your scream is muffled as you come so hard, your body spasming while surrounded by these men. It's the most sensually charged moment of your entire life.

Joel lifts himself up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "She's wetter'n a cucumber in a convent," he chuckles, standing and trying to get the feeling back in his knees. Frankie then moves down to finger you just as Javier is on the verge of coming. Just as he gives a strangled growl, spilling his cum into your willing throat, you feel one of Frankie's fingers in your ass. You gasp and clench around him as Dave takes Javier's place. Your body is buzzing with energy, with lust.

"You're gonna earn every penny," Dave growls, thrusting into your mouth as if he hates you. You don't have a gag reflex but you pretend to choke on him, bringing tears to your eyes.

Frankie starts to undo his pants then quickly steps away. "I'm, uh, not ready yet."

"Let her take care of it," Javier says, lighting up another cigarette.

"No smoking in here," Dave warns, his eyes still on the mascara running down your face.

"Fuck you."

You start stroking Frankie, smiling at the plumpness of his cock, uncut. He's gazing down at you with tenderness in his eyes.

"Marcus, you joinin' us?" Joel asks, getting ready to pull down his jeans.

Marcus watches from the adjoining kitchen, his beer growing warm in his hand. "Maybe.. in a bit." He smiles nervously.

Joel shrugs and unzips himself, releasing his thick, veiny cock. It's all you can do not to stare at it in wonder.

"Hey, I was gonna go first," Dave says aggressively.

"You snooze you lose. Aren't we all gonna get a turn?" Joel smirks before aligning himself to your opening. "Such a tiny, perfect little pussy.. you're gonna be completely wrecked when we're done with you, babygirl..."

Your eyes widen when he begins to slide into you, but you're already slick enough to take him. You remove Dave from your mouth so you can watch Joel's cock disappear inch by inch into your cunt.

"Don't forget about me," Dave warns you, tapping his dick against the side of your face. You compliantly return to sucking him off and he grunts contentedly in response. At the same time Joel pushes in to the hilt. "Hell she's taking every inch of me," he groans. "What a good little slut she is.."

"Well shit, don't stretch her out before the rest of us," Dave complains.

"That's not a particular worry of mine," Javier smirks, getting himself ready again as he goes to your free hand, opposite Frankie, who is already hard and ready. Joel is building up a nice tempo, sliding deep inside your pussy, Dave thrusts avidly into your mouth, Frankie and Joel are watching you as you zealously prime them for whatever they want to do next.

"Oh my god!" Frankie's eyes go wide and without warning he comes on your stomach and you make a sound of surprise when you feel the warm stickiness of him on your skin. "I'm sorry," he mumbles.

"Don't be," you tell him with a smile. "Think you've got another one in you?" you wink and scoop his cum into your mouth as Frankie watches in wonder.

Dave seems upset that you keep removing him from your mouth to talk to Frankie, but Frankie looks so happy that you're not grossed out or upset. Dave grabs hold of the back of your head and rams himself in your throat. "Less talking, bitch," he growls.

You would give him a death glare but then you feel Joel speeding up, his thrusts strong, the loud slapping of your flesh fills the air. Before you know it you're throbbing around him, milking him as you feel him finish inside you. He doesn't stay long, and soon Javier takes his place. "Flip over, cariño," he says, moving you on all fours. Dave takes over from the front, Frankie strokes himself while fondling your tit. Javier grabs your ass and slides in, letting you feel every inch of him as you moan around Dave's cock. He cums soon, spraying the back of your throat with his thick white cum.

"Get in there, Frankie!" Javier encourages, pumping away none too gently as he watches your ass ripple with each thrust. "Marcus get over here and do something or you'll miss out!"

Marcus seems frozen to his spot but Frankie follows orders and you open wide to receive him. He looks down at you like you're some kind of miracle, and you make sure to look at him the same way, charmed by his good nature.

Javier leans close to you. "I'm gonna put it in your ass, cariño."

"Do whatever you want," you purr.

He pulls out of you and you feel a warm glob of saliva at your rear entrance. Javier smears it around your puckered hole and eases himself in. You gasp, fists clenching the edge of the ottoman. "Fill all her holes, boys," Dave says, watching from the side. "That's what she's here for."

Frankie pulls away from your mouth. "Let me get under you." he says, and Javier pulls out enough for you two to get positioned. Frankie aligns himself at your entrance and sinks in easily. "Jesus, you feel so good, Angel.." He thrusts up into you as Javier continues to fuck your ass. The three of you are a fusion of lust and frenzy. Joel watches, running his tongue over his lips, still tasting your sweet essence. Dave tells everyone he's next to claim your ass. Marcus has since inched closer, undeciding yet if he's going to join, or how. He's obviously hard, his eyes dark with craving.

"Marcus," you mumble as he approaches your side. "Fuck my mouth," you beg.

He suppresses a gasp but he unbuckles his belt. "I haven't.. in a while.."

"That's okay.." you smile at him, helping him pull down his pants and briefs, running your nails over his solid girth, and he immediately rises to the occasion. "You were shy before, but not now," you notice, and give his cock a couple of gentle tugs before taking him into your waiting mouth, just the tip, and letting him go in as deep as he wants.

Javier speeds up, fingers digging into your hips as all your cries fill the room. He comes, filling your ass as he grunts savagely, causing you in turn to come, clenching around Frankie who buries himself deep inside as he lets go. Once Javier pulls away Dave takes over, gripping your hips and moving you against him.

You finger your lonely pussy, unable to make yourself feel as good as any of these men have. “Oh god, I want all of you at once.. please!” You beg.

Marcus approaches you and lays beneath you as Dave moves away, scoots up so he’s practically standing over you. Joel claims your mouth and Javier lets you pump him with your fist. Frankie approaches from behind and at the same time Marcus enters you from beneath. Two men fuck your cunt, stretching you, ruining you, and all you can do is give them what they want and then ask for more.. one man in your mouth, in your hand, in your ass.. you are working for every penny just as Dave said.

You're practically dazed by the countless feelings of pleasure coming from every man inside you, the way they move, the way they taste, how their hands grope your ass or your breasts, your hips.. you're just a receptacle for them, a plaything. This allows your brain to soak everything in without having to think. Just feeling. None of them really care about your pleasure, not at this point. You're just a means to an end, and you like it. You've never felt more alive.

"God!" you gasp as you feel yet another wave of absolute euphoria threaten to take you under. You don't even bother to hold back. As soon as you come you feel them all come with you, like tiny explosions set off in a chain. You gulp down Joel's spunk as Dave spills himself inside your ass, and Marcus and Frankie throb then release, one only seconds after the other. Javier takes control of himself from you and spurts his cum onto your face. For the first time ever in your life, you squirt, gasping at the relief and suddenness of it. The six of you try hard to catch your breath, all of you taking in the moments of this night.

"I don't think I'll be able to cum for weeks," Joel says, chuckling as he pulls up his pants.

Showered and dressed, you leave in a skimpy outfit that covers more than the lingerie did, as Dave uses the escort agency's app to send you a very generous tip from himself and the rest of the guys. The guys, cleaned up and all in relaxed moods, watch the game, not even upset that they missed most of the second half. You take your money and leave, blowing a kiss to the guys.

"God damn, you hired a good one," Javier mutters to Dave.

"Let's make this an annual thing," Dave smirks. "Next one's on you, Peña."

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

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mysunshinetemptress · 4 months

Text

Snow Angel

Pretty Girls

Leah Williamson x Reader Warnings: Abusive relationship

The following weeks were a tightrope walk for Leah. Every glance from you sent shivers down her spine, every shared practice session felt charged with unspoken desire. Yet, you remained resolutely distant, the playful banter and lingering touches a distant memory.

It was Arsenal's annual winter gala, with players from both men's and women's joined by their families to celebrate the teams past and present. Forced to sit at the same table together, the tension between You and Leah crackled.

The breaking point came later in the night after dinner when most of the guest's had moved to the dance floor. Alcohol, usually a social lubricant, only served to loosen inhibitions. As the laughter died down, Leah, emboldened by a few glasses of wine, turned to You.

You watched as Evan wrapped his hands around some random girl before turning back to the table only to be met by Leah's stare.

"So, about that night..." she began, her voice barely a whisper.

Your face drained of colour. You quickly turned your head back to the dance floor eyes scanning for Evan.

"Leah please, not here."

Leah let out an annoyed huff, "When then because you do nothing but ignore me."

You reached for her hand squeezing it "Please Le."

Leah looked at you confused at your desperation for her to drop the topic, but just as she opened her mouth to ask Evan wrapped his hand around your upper arm pulling you out of your seat. "Come on babe, dance with me."

You turned back to Leah mouthing later before turning to smile at Evan.

Leah watched, a bitter taste coating her tongue, as you were swept away by Evan's confident grin. The night, once filled with the promise of a resolution, felt like it was crumbling around her.

Across the table, her teammates were lost in their own conversations, oblivious to the storm brewing within Leah. Anger, laced with a fresh dose of hurt, bubbled up. She'd taken a risk, exposed herself, and you'd shut her down again.

As the night dragged on Leah decided she had enough, she was done waiting for you to come to her with an answer.

Spotting you and Evan standing at the bar laughing so happy and care free Leah decided it was now or never.

Ignoring the concerned glances shot her way by her teammates, Leah pushed her chair back from the table with a scraping sound that cut through the chatter. Her heart hammered a furious tattoo against her ribs as she navigated the throng of bodies towards the bar.

Leah grabbed your arm turning you slightly. "We need to talk about that night Y/n, I can't go on like this anymore."

Evan turned looking at you both confused.

"What night, Leah?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

The room held its breath. Leah could back out, pretend it was nothing, but the lie choked her.

"The night at my place," she said, her voice firm despite the tremor in her hands. "The night you, uh, crashed there after the club." Her glare dared Y/n to contradict her.

Y/n's gaze flickered between Leah and Evan, shame and panic warring on her face. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely audible.

"Evan, I..." You couldn't find the words unable to wrap your head around what was happening, Leah was doing this now, to get back at you for ignoring her.

The air hung heavy as your voice trailed off. The revelation hung in the room like a thunderclap, electrifying everyone within earshot. Evan's confusion morphed into a scowl as he looked at you, his hold tightening on your arm possessively.

Leah, despite her anger, felt a pang of guilt at the naked betrayal reflected in your eyes. Maybe this public outing wasn't the best course of action, but the hurt and confusion had driven her to a corner.

The silence stretched on, broken only by the murmur of shocked whispers from onlookers. Your teammates at your table shot worried glances your way, the playful atmosphere of the night now replaced with a tense curiosity.

Suddenly, a new voice cut through the tension. "What's going on here?" It was Kim, your captain, standing tall beside Leah with a concerned frown etched on her face.

Now, all eyes were on you. You could lie, fabricate some story to appease everyone. But the truth, however messy, loomed large. You took a deep breath, stealing a glance at Leah's pained expression. This wouldn't be easy for either of you.

"It's...complicated," you started, your voice barely above a whisper. "The night Leah mentioned...we did share a moment, but..." You hesitated, unsure how to explain the confusing dance you'd been doing with your feelings.

"But...?" Evan prompted, his grip on your arm tightening even further. You winced at the pressure, the situation escalating with every passing second.

Taking another steadying breath, you finally decided on honesty, however brutal it might be. "Evan," you began, your voice gaining strength, "we're not...together. We never were." You turned to Leah, your eyes pleading for understanding. "And what happened that night...it shouldn't have happened."

A collective gasp rippled through the room. The carefully constructed facade of your relationship with Evan crumbled before your eyes. Shame burned hot on your cheeks, but you pushed on, determined to finally clear the air.

"Leah and I..." you started, then paused, searching for the right words. "We care about each other, but it's complicated. There were feelings, a moment of weakness..." You trailed off, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders.

Leah, seeing your genuine distress, felt her anger begin to simmer down. Maybe public exposure wasn't the best strategy, but at least you were finally being honest. Her gaze locked with yours, a silent plea for understanding passing between you.

Before you could continue, Evan yanked his arm free, his face contorted in a mixture of anger and disbelief. "You mean to tell me this whole time..." he spat, his voice thick with anger, but before he could finish his tirade, Kim stepped forward.

"Enough, Evan," she said, her voice firm and authoritative. "This isn't the time or place. Let's all take a step back and cool down."

Evan shook his head, "No we're leaving."

You tried to stop him "Evan, please let's just talk about it here, sort it out here."

Evan pushed his hands through his hair "Don't you think you have embarrassed me enough in front of all your friends tonight, we are leaving."

The air crackled with tension as Evan stormed away, dragging you who looked to Leah with what seemed to be a pleading look etched across your face.

Kim placed a hand on Leah's shoulder, her gaze laced with concern. "Are you alright, Le?" she asked gently. Leah shook her head brushing off the captain's hand "I'm going home, I'm sorry."

Leah is lying asleep in bed hours later when her doorbell goes off, she tosses slightly ignoring it hoping sleep will welcome her back when it goes off again.

huffing Leah tosses her duvets aside, before trudging down the stairs and swinging the door open angrily.

"What." Leah goes to give out to whoever has found themselves on her doorstep this late at night but the words die in her throat.

In the doorway, you're standing there shaking a dishevelled, your eyes red-rimmed and hair windblown. Dress torn, a bruise beginning to form on your cheekbone, a busted lip and a shiner coming through on your left eye.

Leah's heart lurched. The anger that had fueled her earlier actions evaporated, replaced by a cold dread. You were a mess, a physical manifestation of the chaos she'd helped create.

"Y/N?" Your name came out in a choked whisper.

You swayed slightly, before You flinched, as if expecting a slap instead. "Leah," you croaked, your voice hoarse. "I...Leah...please...let me in."

There was no room for judgment now. You needed help, a safe haven. Stepping aside, Leah ushered you in, the late-night chill clinging to your clothes a stark contrast to the warmth of her house.

The public humiliation you'd both endured at the gala paled in comparison to the violence simmering on her doorstep. Her anger towards you was forgotten, replaced by a surge of protectiveness.

"Come in," she rasped, stepping aside to usher you both into the house.

You stumbled slightly, leaning heavily on the doorframe for support. Leah quickly reached out, a hesitant hand hovering near your arm. You flinched again, but this time, it seemed to be more out of pain than fear.

Taking a deep breath, Leah swallowed her reservations. "Let's get you cleaned up first," she said, her voice firm but laced with concern.

You offered a weak nod, leaning on her as she guided you further into the house. The weight of your body against hers was a stark reminder of the intimacy they'd shared, a stark contrast to the violence you were now escaping.

"Evan..." you manage, voice hoarse. "He...he didn't take the news well."

Your words spark a horrifying image in Leah's mind, as she recounts his forceful grabbing of your arm over the night.

You winced as her hand came towards your face looking to clean your lip. Leah began to remember all the previous times you had winced at a hand being raised towards you and she felt sick to her stomach at the thought of her next question.

"Did he…?" she started, then stopped. How to phrase the question delicately, when all she wanted to scream was, "Is this the first time done this?"

You seemed to understand her unspoken question. Shame flickered in your eyes before you dropped them to your hands.

The air hung heavy with the unspoken truth. Leah bit her lip, the concern for your well-being warring with a fresh wave of shame.

"Was this..." she started, her voice barely a whisper, "the reason you were hesitant with me? Because of him?"

You looked down at your feet, avoiding her gaze. A small, defeated nod escaped your lips.

The confirmation hit Leah like a punch to the gut. All this time, your distance, your mixed signals – it had all been because of Evan's abuse. A part of her wanted to be angry, to rage at you for not confiding in her sooner, but the bigger part ached for you, for the pain you must have endured in silence.

"Why didn't you say anything?" she finally asked, her voice thick with emotion.

You lifted your head, your eyes filled with a vulnerability that ripped at Leah's heart.

"I was scared," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper. "Scared of him, scared of losing everything – the team, you..."

The raw honesty in your voice resonated with Leah. She understood. The fear of losing everything you'd worked hard for was a powerful motivator, especially in the face of an abuser.

Placing a hand on your arm, this time gently, Leah offered a small, reassuring smile. "You're safe now," she said softly. "He can't hurt you here."

The tenderness in her touch sent a wave of warmth through you. Looking into her eyes, you saw not judgment, but a wellspring of concern and a flicker of something more – a hint of the feelings you harboured for her as well.

"Leah I..." you started, your voice trailing off.

Leah squeezed your arm gently. "We can deal with everything else later. Right now, you need to rest and get cleaned up."

There was a silent understanding that bloomed between you. The night's events had irrevocably altered the course of your relationship. The truth, though brutal, had finally been laid bare. Whether there was a future for you and Leah, you didn't know yet. But for now, the solace of her presence, the promise of safety, was all that mattered.

Leah had gotten you up the stairs and to her bedroom before placing you gently on the bed and rushing to get you pyjamas for the night.

"Right, here's the pyjamas, you know where the toilet is eh i'll be in the other room just come wake me if you need me." As Leah began to walk off you grabbed her hand "Le....thank you." how could you ask her to stay after everything, she had opened her home for you, the pain you put her through.

Leah hesitates for a moment, caught between her lingering anger and the vulnerability in your eyes. "You deserve to be safe," she says softly, her eyes filled with concern, before walking out.

The night stretches on, a tangled mess of worry and a strange sense of vulnerability for Leah. She tosses and turns in bed, the sheets tangled around her legs. Sleep eludes her, replaced by a constant replay of the night's events.

The image of you, battered and bruised, on her doorstep, had banished any lingering anger Leah felt. Now, a restless worry gnawed at her. Every creak of the floorboards sent her imagination into overdrive, conjuring visions of you tossing and turning in pain.

Finally, unable to bear the suspense any longer, Leah crept out of her room and padded down the hallway towards yours. The soft glow of the bedside lamp peeked out from under the door, casting a warm rectangle on the floor.

Hesitantly, Leah pushed the door open a crack. You were lying on your back, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. The harsh light accentuated the shadows of your injuries, making them look even worse.

"Can't sleep?" Leah asked softly, the door creaking slightly as she nudged it open further.

You flinched at the sound, your gaze snapping towards her. "Leah," you whispered, relief washing over your face. "I thought you were asleep."

Leah stepped into the room, the concern etched on her face evident in the dim light. "Couldn't," she admitted. "Is everything okay?"

You shook your head, the movement sending a jolt of pain through your throbbing cheek. "Just… thinking."

Leah felt a pang of sympathy. The weight of the night's events must be crushing. Taking a deep breath, she decided to offer some comfort.

"Would you like some company?" she asked gently. "Maybe some tea?"

A flicker of a smile touched your lips. "That would be nice," you rasped.

Leah smiled back, a genuine one this time, relieved to see a hint of your usual spirit flickering back to life. "Alright, I'll be right back."

She scurried out of the room, the sound of her footsteps a comforting rhythm in the quiet night. As she brewed the tea, a warmth spread through Leah's chest – a warmth that had nothing to do with the hot water.

Seeing you so vulnerable, so dependent on her care, had awakened a fierce protectiveness within her. But there was something else too, a deeper emotion that had been simmering beneath the surface all along.

Returning to the room with two steaming mugs, Leah settled on the edge of the bed, careful not to crowd you. You reached out, taking the mug from her hand with a grateful smile.

For a while, you both sipped your tea in comfortable silence. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air, a shared understanding blooming between you.

Finally, you broke the silence, your voice still hoarse from the night's events. "Leah, about earlier..."

Leah met your gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. "We can talk about it all in the morning," she interrupted gently. "Right now, you need to rest."

You shook your head. "No Leah...I have to....you deserve to know," you stated your voice thick with emotion.

You picked at your fingers letting out a shaky breath " He was so sweet when I first met him, but it didn't last and I thought that what I had with him was all I was going to have, all I was worth, but then I met you after my transfer and you were so soft and gentle, even as a friend and I found myself falling for you.....I was just so scared to leave him and then.....then that night here with you...Evan..he...I was only ever there for him...for his pleasure but with you....I...You were gentle and loving and...you looked after me and I loved every second of it but felt so heartbroken too because it's all I ever wanted with the girl I dreamed of but I...he scares me....the things he does scares me and it was easier to leave the next morning and ignore you then fall into my feelings because I was terrified of the outcome."

Leah, her heart clenching with every word, listened intently as you poured out your story. The vulnerability in your eyes mirrored the turmoil within her. Here you were, laying bare your soul, and she understood in a way she never had before.

"Leah," you continued, your voice trembling slightly, "I know I messed up. I should have confided in you, but I was afraid. Afraid of losing you, afraid of what Evan might do."

Leah reached out, her hand hovering gently over yours. "It's okay," she whispered, the words thick with emotion. "I understand."

A tear escaped your eye, tracing a warm path down your cheek. You leaned into her touch, finding a solace you hadn't felt in a long time.

"Can you ever forgive me?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken pining. Leah looked into your eyes, searching for the answer within them. The truth was, the anger had faded, replaced by a deep well of empathy and a growing affection for you.

"There's nothing to forgive," she finally said, her voice soft but firm. "You were in a difficult situation, and you did what you had to do to survive."

A tear rolls down your cheek, and you don't bother brushing it away. Relief washes over you, a sense of finally being understood. You take another sip of tea, the warmth spreading through you.

Leah, her heart clenching at your confession, reached out and placed a comforting hand over yours. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You're safe now."

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over as the dam of your emotions finally broke. You let out a choked sob, the exhaustion and fear of the night catching up to you. Leah held you close, her embrace a silent promise of safety and support.

As you cried, the story tumbled out – the manipulative games Evan played, the subtle threats that escalated into violence, the isolation that made you feel trapped. Leah listened patiently, her anger towards Evan burning hot alongside her protectiveness of you.

When your sobs subsided, leaving behind a shaky silence, Leah spoke softly. "You're so strong, Y/N," she said, her voice filled with admiration. "For enduring all that, for finally getting away."

You shook your head, a weak smile flickering on your lips. "Strong isn't exactly how I feel right now."

Leah squeezed your hand. "Maybe not. But you were brave. You came here, you faced the truth, and you're starting to heal."

A comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by the quiet sniffles and the soft glow of the bedside lamp. The weight of the unspoken hung heavy in the air, a question lingering between you.

Finally, Leah took a deep breath and broke the silence. "What do you want to do now, Y/N?" she asked gently.

You looked at her, your eyes filled with a newfound vulnerability. "I...I don't know," you admitted. "All I know is...I don't want to go back to him."

Leah hummed running her fingers through your hair. "I want to be with you...I want to know what it's like to be loved by you."

Leah felt her heart flutter "I'll be happy to show you when your ready."

You turned to face her, your eyes flicking back and forth between her eyes and lips "Can...Can i kiss you." Leah quickly nodded before pulling you closer and kissing you.

"Ow." you let out a soft groan at the sting of your lip, "Softer next time please." Leah smiled as you began to laugh "Softer every time."

#woso #awfc #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x y/n #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x you #snow angel #pretty girls #renee rapp

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zhounauts · 29 days

Text

͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏──── ☆ NOT SO COLD ! ͏͏͏͏͏F1!DRIVER NRK X FMR ᵂᶜ ²⁵²

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ more than meets the eyes , ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏he's not so cold after all ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

WORD GETS 'ROUND FAST.

niki nishimura: new, arrogant, cold, and the prodigial rookie at mercedes who was pushing the limits of speed and machinery.

ice cold, niki nishimura is the perfect villain for the media, painted as someone driven by nothing but his own madness and desire to win. a man who cared about nothing else and nobody else.

the paddock and the world whispered about him every race weekend. they saw only what they wanted to see: his clipped answers, ruthless overtakes, and those piercing eyes of his that nobody could read. they said he was heartless, cocky, and like a winter chill sending shivers throughout the grid.

but to you?

you knew niki nishimura as riki.

a boy who smiled during quiet moments, away from the eyes of the media and flashing lights of his life. a boy who's eyes crinkled everytime he laughed. a boy who laughed like there was no tomorrow at the stupidest things. a boy who was nothing like what people saw.

and you knew that best.

because as you sit in the quiet of his driver's room, his body flush against yours as you play with his strands of hair you can't help but laugh to yourself reading the newest article that he shows to you. "an emotionless robot in a racing suit?" you grin, "that's new,"

you press a kiss to top of his head, watching as rosy warmth spreads throughout his cheeks. you smile.

oh how they didn't know your boy at all.

RAE'S NOTE(S) don't we love announcing a hiatus only to post four days later! okay but all seriousness i found this deep in my notes and decided to post it pls enjoy cs i am disappearing fs after this one...

2024 , ZHOUNAUTS

#nishimura niki x reader #k-labels #k-films #enhablr #riki nishimura x reader #niki x reader #enhypen x reader #nishimura riki #niki x y/n #niki enhypen #enhypen x female reader #enhypen riki #niki nishimura

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fanficimagery · 4 days

Text

Joining the Biz.

When the hotels are all booked up, your cousin asks if a few friends can crash at your place. You accept, not knowing you'll be meeting some people who will become lifelong friends and get a shot at doing what you once loved. [Part Three of Three]

Words: 9.9K Author's Note: I know Rey Mysterio is part of the LWO or whatever it's called, but for the sake of this.. he's all alone and needs help from others. Also, I know there are several females on the Smackdown roster that are amazing, but I just recently started watching again so I only mention those I'm somewhat familiar with. No offense to any of those lovely ladies. FYI, I don't write smut. The most I write is mediocre kissing lmao. And Jesus fuck. Do you know how hard it is to write a wrestling match? Why did I do this to myself?

You continue to make appearances on Raw, this time everything being filmed backstage.

The feud between father and son amps up, you being there every time to help your Tio up and glaring at a laughing Judgement Day, but more importantly at a smug Liv who thinks she's untouchable. Even the Terror Twins and Jey Uso get involved, helping Rey when Judgement Day overwhelms him. Eventually it evolves to a fight, four on four; Rey, Damian, Rhea, and Jey versus Dom, Finn, Liv, and JD with Carlito subjected to watching from the sides. Everyone knows Carlito will get involved, but so will you. Even if the fans don't know it.

Before you're revealed on Smackdown, however, you're to be an anonymous ally to Rey, Jey, and the Terror Twins for their match. Only Rey will know of the identity of the ally, leaving everyone in the dark, but everyone will know exactly where this ally is to be hidden during the duration of the match so as to not mess up what's been written in the script.

You're to have a slight makeover for Smackdown, but you can't do what they want just yet, so you settle for only the anonymous outfit. They give you an oversized black hoodie with black jeans and black booties with a chunky heel. To keep your identity hidden, they double french braid your hair, plop in purple contacts, and give you a mask like the one the Winter Soldier from the Marvel universe wears.

Between one match and the next, the arena goes dark during a commercial break. The production crew has to sneak you to the ring and hide you beneath it before the lights come back up.

(Live on Raw)

It feels like forever before the two groups swagger down to the ring and are introduced, and then even longer once the match starts.

Once you get the cue from your Tio, you slide out from beneath the ring and stay crouched by the side. The fans that see you start to cheer, and any second Liv will round the corner of the ring, running from Rhea. Sure enough, when she does, you fly up and sprint at her, spearing her to the ground.

The crowd goes wild, even more so when Rhea comes to a stop in front of you and the two of you have a stare down. She seems suspicious of you, at least up until you mockingly salute her- the same salute she'd given you when you first made your appearance on Raw. Her eyes seem to gleam with recognition then, but then your gaze is darting behind her where Carlito is running up.

Shoving Rhea aside, you superkick Carlito right across his chin. As Carlito falls, you turn towards Rhea and place your index finger over where your mouth is beneath your mask as if shushing her to keep the secret.

In the ring, there's a count of three and your Tio and friends are announced the winners. When Rhea takes her gaze off of you, you jump the barricade and rush through the crowd.

(End of segment broadcast.)

You make quick work of jumping into a waiting car in the garage, stripping off your mask behind the tinted windows and are driven to the hotel you're staying at. You find your bag at your feet, yanking out your phone and sending a text to Rhea, while also changing into normal clothing so Jey doesn't find the anonymous outfit in your room.

To Rhea: All will be revealed Friday Night. Stay tuned.

It's not until you're back in the room you're sharing with Jey that she texts back.

From Rhea: So, it's safe to assume you'll be on Smackdown? To Rhea: Paul hasn't spoken to you guys? From Rhea: What's going on? To Rhea: Shit. You didn't hear this from me, so don't spread it. My home will be Smackdown, but Paul mentioned that with how the storylines are going.. it looks like both rosters will be making appearances either night. No one's going to be stuck only on Raw or only on Smackdown. I'm not sure how long that will last though. From Rhea: This is going to be fun. Btw, Jey's convinced you were the anonymous female who helped us. To Rhea: Good luck proving it. I've done a good job making it seem like I've been in the room all night.

You send her the gif of Karen from Mean Girls where she fake coughs and says I'm sick. Rhea sends you back a laughing emoji and wishes you luck.

Later, when Jey gets back, he looks prepared to grill you about your whereabouts. But when he sees you all snuggled up and looking a little under the weather, he leans over you to kiss your forehead.

"You need anything?"

You feel bad lying to him, but it's only for a few more days. "No. Just want you to hold me. How was work?"

"You mean you didn't watch?"

"I did, but I just want to hear you talk."

Jey smiles. "Let me shower really quick and I'll tell you all about it."

Jey makes quick work of showering and when he exits the bathroom in nothing but a pair of briefs, you mentally curse the restraint the two of you have. It's no secret to either of you that you're it for one another, but taking that next step seems to be stumping the two of you. You'll be affectionate with each other and sleep in the same bed, but you've yet to kiss or anything. It's almost like you're afraid to take that final step and lose what you currently have.

But as Jey snuggles in next to you, all that seems to fade away and you listen as he recounts his day at work and how he'll be making an appearance on this upcoming Friday Night Smackdown.

Week after week, Roman's been dealing with Solo and his version of the Bloodline. Sure, he has Jimmy, and Jey's been allowed to come over when needed, but Solo has something that Roman doesn't and it's hindering his climb back to Tribal Chief.

It goes against both Roman and Jimmy's real life and alter ego's morals to lay hands on a woman, even though Nia Jax has no issue laying hands on them. So, when Paul laid out the storyline that a female wrestler would be put into Roman's side of the Bloodline, Roman was relieved but also skeptical. Who would be good enough to stand up to Nia Jax? He knows the female roster on Smackdown and there's no one decent enough besides Bayley, but Bayley doesn't seem to fit with him or Jimmy. She has her own alter ego, and it doesn't mesh well with that of Roman.

When he learns that some wrestlers will be given the green light to swap back and forth on Raw and Smackdown, he thinks of Rhea since she now has a connection to Jey, but then disregards it because she has the Terror Twin schtick going for her. When he asks Paul who his little enforcer will be, Paul merely smirks and mentions that he's going to like her just fine.

The night for the newest addition to his faction comes, and he's anxious. The storyline is pretty good, and he can't wait to see his female enforcer take out Nia Jax since Nia is currently injured and needs an excuse to be out for a few months. That and he gets to unmask her.

. .

Ready for your debut, you stare at your new haircut in the mirror. They gave you a trim so your hair reached just below your shoulders while also giving you a small undercut on the left side of your head, just enough to cut a design into the shaved part. As your hair swoops over to the right, the roots along the part in your hair are dyed a vibrant red.

The purple contacts have been left out, showcasing your natural eye color. Your mask, the one you dubbed the Winter Soldier is back in place, shielding the bottom half of your face. You have your hoodie zipped all the way up to your neck, you're back in dark skinny jeans, and back in the black booties with heels.

You watch the monitors as everything unfolds out in the ring, waiting for your cue to rush to Roman's aide.

(Live on Smackdown)

The fight turns brutal fast.

Solo is livid that the Ula Fala has been stolen from his locker room, and everyone is in agreement that Roman must have taken it. But when Roman meets them in the ring, he has no idea what they're talking about.

Solo and his Bloodline are hearing nothing Roman has to say and beats him down. When he's handcuffed to the bottom rope, Nia takes her chance to get in a few hits on the ex-Tribal Chief. Only when a table is brought in and set up near one of the corners do the Usos theme song blare through the arena. As the twin brothers rush to Roman's aide, Paul Heyman seems relieved outside the ring.

When Solo sees Jimmy and Jey though, he quickly drops to roll out of the ring and drags Jacob Fatu with him. Uncaring of their cowardice, Jimmy and Jey deal with Tama Tonga and Tonga Loa. As those two are tossed from the ring, all that's left is Nia who isn't paying attention and delivering kick after kick to Roman's chest as he slouches in the corner of the ring, unable to move.

Having crept into the crowd, you jump the barricade much to everyone's glee. Jumping onto the side of the ring, you step between the bottom and middle ropes, and crouch in the corner opposite of Nia. Jimmy and Jey glance at you, but you only have eyes for Nia. As you start pounding on the mat, the crowd matches the beat with a clap of their hands.

Nia finally takes notice of the atmosphere, and she goes to turn, you stand and rush her, delivering a superkick to her chin. Dazed and confused, Nia falls. You glance between Jimmy and Jey, pointing at Nia and then pointing to the table. Both brothers glance at one another before shrugging, picking up Nia and laying her out on the table before stepping back. Paul Heyman then rushes to uncuff Roman.

Turning to the corner post closest to the table, you start to climb. The crowd goes wild as Solo and his Bloodline watch Nia be annihilated. As you stand on the top rope, you briefly glance over your shoulder to make sure you're lined up. Then with a roar as your arms stretch out on either side of you, very reminiscent of Jeff Hardy, you moonsault backwards off the top rope and put both your body and Nia's through the table.

The landing practically punches the breath out of you, but you pull it together as you crawl away from the destruction. Nia lays there, unconscious, and you stand to glare at Solo and Jacob as they reach under the bottom rope to grab Nia by the ankle and drag her out of the ring.

You pace back and forth then, adrenaline pumping and watching Solo and his Bloodline retreat up the ramp.

When the crowd quiets, you turn around, only to be met with Roman Reigns rubbing at his sore wrists. Jimmy and Jey flank him, unsure of you, and Paul Heyman stands off to the side looking a bit weary himself. At least he looks weary until you unzip the hoodie and strip it off, leaving you in an OTC shirt- Roman's merch- and the missing Ula Fala draped around your neck.

Paul Heyman gasps, Jimmy and Jey act surprised, and Roman's jaw twitches as he stares you down. Fisting your right hand, you cross your arm over your chest with your first above your heart and bow your head to Roman. A moment passes and then you take off the Ula Fala, holding it up for him. Roman watches you and hesitantly lowers his head, and you drape the Ula Fala around the rightful Tribal Chief's neck.

As the crowd goes wild for the turn of events, you stand back with your feet shoulder widths apart. Your hands clasp behind your back and you stare straight ahead. Roman takes his sweet time searching your features for any sign of deceit. He reaches for your mask then and, when you don't budge, he unclasps it.

Roman makes it as dramatic as he can as he pulls the mask off and when he does… you can see him fighting a smile when recognition sets in. Jimmy, however, has no restraint and ends up laughing when he sees it's you. Apparently, Roman and Jey weren't the only ones kept in the dark about your identity.

The crowd is surprisingly cheering for you and you're grateful for it. You weren't sure how your presence on Smackdown would be taken considering your family was on Raw.

Jimmy is slapping a stunned Jey on his shoulder, nudging him while pointing at you. Roman proceeds to shock everyone as he steps forward and envelops you in a hug, tucking your head beneath his chin and just holding you close for a moment.

"You're my female enforcer?" He asks, making sure to hide his mouth so no one can read his lips.

Pulling back a little, you stare up at him. "It looks like we're gonna be spending a lot of time together, Reigns." You allow yourself to flash a cocky smirk. "Get used to it, Big Uce."

Roman chuckles as you step out of the hug. You step to his side and grab his wrist, raising his arm in the air as high as you can while pointing at him and hollering at the crowd. Jimmy grabs his other wrist, doing the same, and then Jey grabs your other wrist to raise in the air. When you glance at him, you can see the excitement in his gaze, but he's keeping it toned down since he can't do anything to jeopardize his storyline with Rhea.

In the middle of the Smackdown ring, Roman and his Bloodline is introduced.

You, Jey, and Jimmy then break off, amping up the crowd and acknowledging Roman with a hand raised in the air, index finger pointing to the ceiling.

When it's time to head back, you pick up your mask and roll out of the ring. There are people screaming and hollering, and you flash everyone a cocky smirk while walking backstage.

(End of segment broadcast.)

Once the camera lights cut out to signify the end of filming, Jey whirls on you and backs you into a wall where he grasps your face and plants his lips on yours. The surprise doesn't even register with you because this kiss has been a long time coming, and you gladly return Jey's enthusiasm, but Jimmy's exclamation of, "Finally!", has you snapping to attention.

When you come up for air, panting and heaving, you take notice of the position you and Jey are in. Your hands are cradling his bearded face, one leg being held up on his hip with one of his hands and his other grasping at your ass. You're momentarily distracted by his own heaving chest, but you quickly snap out of it.

Hands pressing against Jey's chest, you push him away and lower your leg. Your eyes widen, especially when you hear the chuckles all around you, and you slap at his chest when he tries to crowd into your space again. "Not where there are cameras around! I am too invested in Jhea for the cameras to accidentally film you fooling around with Roman's newest addition."

Jey blinks at you. "You right, you right." He steps back, licking his bottom lip as he stares you up and down. His darkened gaze, however, proves that he's moments from losing control again. "But damn, girl. How you gonna go out there lookin' like a badass and not expect me to jump on that?"

You snort and before Jimmy or Roman can start joking, Solo steps up. "You little thief," he muses.

You're grateful for the distraction and laugh at Solo, bringing the Uso's younger brother into a hug. "Surprised?"

"Yes. You're surprisingly good at keeping secrets."

"Aw, don't feel bad, uce," Jimmy says as he slaps a hand on his brother's shoulder. "She told none of us."

"The only ones who knew were Rhea and tio Rey," you admit. "Tio Rey because he was there for my contract signing and Rhea because after spearing Liv Morgan last Monday, I teased her with a gesture that would clue her in."

"Well I'm glad you're here, even if Nia is going to kick your ass when she comes back."

You laugh. "Speaking of, where is Nia? I wanna check on her."

Before you can go check on Nia to make sure the bit with the table didn't aggravate her injury further, Solo takes it upon himself to introduce you to his cousins that made up his Bloodline faction. All three are very intimidating in the ring, but off-camera they are as lovable as Solo, Jey, Jimmy, and Roman. Then after introductions are had, you briefly meet with Nia where she jokes about you being prepared for her return because she was going to kick your little ass.

Laughing, you tell her you're looking forward to a proper match with her and that you hope her recovery goes smoothly. The production crew then gathers Roman and his Bloodline for pictures to be added to WWE's socials, introducing the reunion of the OG Bloodline, plus their newest addition.

You take pictures with your mask on and off, with the whole group, by yourself, and then with just Roman. You're excited, especially since the photographer makes you look badass and promises to email the pics to you so you can start adding some to your own socials.

Then when it's time to go to the hotel, Jimmy has to keep his twin in check every time he reaches for your hand. You're not even out of the arena yet when Jey turns handsy, and Roman has to push you in front of him to shield you from Jey's wandering hands, less the paparazzi and fans capture pictures of Jey cheating on Rhea.

During the week, you manage to make time for both your jobs- fielding calls for your main source of income and hitting the gym with Roman and Jimmy. And when you're not letting your two brothers kick your ass in the ring in preparation for taking on any male wrestler that goes after your boys, Jey has you locked away in the hotel room you share to make up for lost time.

Roman and Jimmy take great pleasure in making you run back and forth across the ring, shoulder checking you and making you practice your falls. You even have to practice falling from higher heights, making Roman and Jimmy crack up when on one particular fall, you land wrong.

"Ow. My tits." Rolling over and rubbing at your chest, Roman spews the water he'd been drinking and Jimmy falls to one knee laughing. "Fuck off," you grumble.

As you get to your feet, Jimmy can't help but muse, "I'm sure Jey will kiss it better."

"Don't tell him anything!" You warn him. "I'm all for our sudden, enthusiastic sex life, but my vagina needs a break. Jesus, it hasn't even been a full week and-"

Roman starts coughing. "No! No. We are not talking about that."

Jimmy is dying of laughter and you smirk at the Tribal Chief. "Aw, come on, Roman. Aren't you curious about your cousin's dick game?"

"Hell no."

"Fine. If you want my silence, I demand chicken tenders and ranch."

Roman grimaces. "What is it with chicken tenders and ranch?"

You shrug. "It's good."

"If you say so. Now come on. Spar with Jimmy one more time and we'll call it a day."

Jimmy has a case of the giggles during your entire spar, so it's easy for you to get the drop on him a few times.

. .

When Friday Night Smackdown rolls around again, you have to deal with Solo's Bloodline alongside Jimmy, and it's the first time they get to get their hands on you so you can show how resilient you are against the men.

Jimmy has a solo, no disqualification match against Tonga Loa, who will be accompanied by Tama Tonga. You will accompany Jimmy to the ring, keeping an eye on Tama whose mission is apparently to make you as uncomfortable as possible with suggestive comments and licking his lips as he looks you up and down.

(Live on Smackdown)

The match starts, and Jimmy and Tonga are pretty evenly matched. Both take hits that have you wincing and trying not to break character and laugh, especially when Tonga takes an accidental hit to the groin area and you hear him shout, "My balls!".

You're pounding the mat, urging Jimmy to get up when you notice Tama Tonga climbing onto the side of the ring. Jimmy rolls and pins a dazed Tonga Loa, but the ref is distracted by Tama. Annoyed, you walk in Tama's direction, and he takes notice. When he smirks and hops down, you take off at a run. And when Tama opens his arms as if volunteering to let you have the first hit, you surprise him by running faster, jumping, and then kicking him with both soles of your feet.

You've just dropkicked Tama Tonga, stunning the Samoan.

However, as you're getting up, spitting curses at Tama, you're grabbed by the back of your hair. You shout, scratching at the hand holding you, and then urgently try to get away when you realize it's Jacob Fatu that has a hold of you.

With a shout, Jacob picks you up sideways and drives your back into the steel steps that lead into the ring. You scream as he drops you, rolling onto your back as you reach behind you with one hand to hold the aching spot.

"Uce! You good, uce? Get up!" You groan at Jimmy's voice, slowly getting to your hands and knees.

Roman's theme goes off, the crowd goes wild, and Roman flies down the ramp to meet Jacob Fatu head on. It's a clash of two strong personas that everyone's been wanting, so you leave them be. In the ring, however, Tama Tonga and Tonga Loa are teaming up against Jimmy.

Anger building, you stand and roll into the ring under the bottom rope. When you get to your feet and Jimmy notices you standing there, he shoves Tama Tonga off of him and Tama stumbles towards you with his back facing you.

Hands bracing on his shoulders, you jump and place both knees against his back. Then falling backwards with Tama still in hand, your knees drive hard into his back as you both fall on the mat. Hurt, Tama Tonga rolls out of the ring. You stand up, hunched just a little because your back in on fire, and Tonga Loa gets into your face. You sneer at one another, but yours slowly morphs into a smirk.

"What the hell are you smilin' about?"

"Just the fact that you're focused on me when you should be focused on Jimmy."

Your gaze darts behind him, but before he can turn, you headbutt him. Dazed, Tonga turns right into a spear from your friend.

Jimmy takes the win and as he celebrates his victory around the ring, you drop to the mat and roll under the bottom rope, sitting on the ledge. Roman walks up, hair mussed from whatever fight he got into with Jacob.

"Need a hand?"

"Not in front of the camera, Reigns," you grit out with a smile. Roman's lips twitch as he still offers you a hand, a hand which you take and hold onto as you hop off the side of the ring. Jimmy is suddenly on your other side, clapping you on the back. "Fuck!" You shout, twisting out from beneath his hands.

Immediately, Jimmy's hands go up. "My bad, uce. My bad."

You glare at him as Roman does his best to mask his chortles, and then the three of you walk up the ramp.

(End of segment broadcast)

Off camera, Jacob rushes up to you, concern in his gaze. "I'm fine," you immediately tell him.

"Are you sure? That scream didn't sound like it was fake."

You grimace at him, and then tense when someone lifts the back of your shirt. "Shit. You're bleeding."

"What?" You turn around just in time for Roman to call for a medic. "Huh. I must have caught the edge of the stairs." When you face Jacob again, you can't help but chuckle. "Jacob, it's fine! Promise."

He winces. "I know. I just- I hate that I actually hurt you."

"It's all part of the job, buddy."

When the medics come and lead you to a room, you're laid out on your front. They clean and assess the apparent two-inch gash but conclude that it doesn't need stitches. As they reclean it and bandage it up for you, they tell you that you'll be sore for the next few days and that it's best to take it easy so the wound can close. You huff, but tell them you'll speak with Paul to see what he says.

Surprisingly, Paul agrees. He tells you to rest up and that while you can accompany your faction to the ring next week, he doesn't want you in the middle of the action.

And when you get back to the hotel, you're met with a worried Jey and have to deal with his mother hen tendencies.

Talking trash is not as fun if you can't throw down with your faction. But you keep to the rules laid out for you and stand back as Solo and Roman continue their feud.

On Raw, Judgement Day and the Terror Twins feud is still going just as strong. You've been watching, growing annoyed when one week Damian and Rhea seem like this overpowered duo, only for them to get their asses kicked the following week by the entire faction they once belonged to. It amps up until Finn suggests a match- Finn, Dom, and Liv versus Damian, Jey, and Rhea. The fans seem to love the idea, so the match is made for the following Monday.

However, behind the scenes when Damian, Rhea, and Jey are talking, Judgement Day attacks them out of the blue. You're not sure what goes wrong, but something seriously happens to Rhea's knee. You're not sure how severe it is until Paul calls you, asking if you can make an appearance as Damian and Jey's third. You agree.

. .

"There is so much bad blood here, that I want it to seem as unscripted as possible," Paul tells you Wednesday night when he calls a meeting between all the wrestlers involved. "The fans will go wild."

"So, there's no script for the match?" Dominik asks. "How do we know who will win and when to make the pin?"

Paul now smiles. "It's gonna be the first match of the night and you'll fight until you're exhausted. I want you guys to take it easy on each other, but the women," he says, glancing between you and Liv, "I want you feral. I want you spitting mad. Just don't seriously injure one another. The crowd seems to love when the women go off on each other."

Glancing deviously at Liv, the two of you laugh when all the other men swear at the matching smirks you're now sporting. "Free reign to kick ass?"

"Hell yes," Liv muses.

"I just want you to know right now that whatever is said or done out there on camera, it's not personal."

"I want your best, YN. Bring it."

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry," Dominik says. When everyone glances at him, he says, "I've seen YN fight, truly fight, before my dad got her disciplined in the ring. If she doesn't hold back, it's gonna be a fight to be remembered."

"That's what I'm hoping for. Especially since it'll be YN's first official match. This will set the tone for her place in Roman's faction."

After a few more details are hashed out, everyone goes their separate ways.

"You sure you're ready for this?" Jey asks.

"Yes. I've been in fights before, babe. It's nothing I can't handle."

"Man, Rhea's gonna be so jealous." Damian chuckles. "We're all taught to hold back, pull our punches. And here Paul is giving you permission to seriously mess each other up."

"It's gonna be fun, but I swear you boys better take this win."

"Oh, we will," Jey muses.

When you get to the hotel, Damian walks off to find Rhea, and you and Jey head to Roman's room. He wants to know what's going on and when you tell him, he's surprised.

"You better kick some major ass, girl."

"Don't worry, I will."

"I want you in the ring by eight tomorrow morning."

"Goddammit, Reigns."

Jey laughs and Roman turns to him. "I don't know why you're laughing. You need to be there too. In fact, call Priest and tell him to meet us in the morning. I'm not going to let the two of you make the Bloodline's She-Wolf look incompetent in the ring."

Jey gapes before sighing and giving into the inevitable. Pulling out his phone, Jey texts Damian what Roman is demanding. And just when you think you can jump on the bed and relax, Roman gets down to business and starts asking questions about what you have planned for the match.

(Live on Raw)

Judgement Day takes the ring, the arena booing them as they're all smug smiles and laughter. They've just finished the replay of Judgement Day attacking Damian and Rhea last week, and then Rhea confessing to Damian and Jey in the back earlier that night that there's no way she can fight in tonight's match.

"So, you see," Liv laughs on the mic, "there will be no match tonight. Damian and Jey might have some new friends backstage, but they have no females to fill in for that pathetic Rhea Ripley."

As soon as the words leave her mouth, blue lights start flashing.

USO!

Jey walks out with Damian by his side and Rhea hobbling on crutches on his other side. Damian is the most heated, pacing back and forth as Jey amps up the crowd for a few seconds. As the music cuts out, Damian raises the mic to his mouth and says, "Güera, do everyone a favor and shut up." The crowd cheers and laughs. "Honestly, I don't know how Dom deals with your ass. Your voice is annoying as hell."

In the ring, Liv gapes and shoves at Dominik before pointing at Damian and demanding Dominik to defend her.

"You're honestly so lucky that Rhea can't fight tonight. So lucky."

"But that luck just ran out, white girl. The match is still on," Jey says, producing his own mic as the crowd cheers. "Because you right about us not havin' female friends here. But just because we have no female connections here, doesn't mean we don't have any female connections.. on Smackdown."

The crowd cheers even louder, especially when in the ring Dominik is the first to make the connection as he freezes in shock. And then, he rips the mic from Liv's hand. "No. You're lying! My prima wouldn't do that to me. We don't see eye to eye, but she would never-"

Roman's theme blares and if the crowd was loud earlier, they're deafening now.

The Tribal Chief walks out, the red Ula Fala draped around his neck. Flanking him are you and Jimmy, and behind you is Paul Heyman. You're sporting your new mask, the black mask having been painted with markings that match the tribal symbols from Roman, Jimmy, and Jey's tattoos.

"Danngggg," Jey muses as he steps up to your side, glancing at you and then staring at Liv down in the ring. "Betchu really wishing you were taking on Rhea now, huh. Because I can promise you, the Bloodline's She-Wolf is very much all bite."

"The She-Wolf?" Liv barks out a laugh before sneering. "I'm not afraid of some little bitch."

The crowd ooh's and a camera man kneels in front of you, catching your reaction. Slowly but surely, you reach up and remove your mask. Smirking, you lean into the mic that Jey holds out for you. "You will be."

As you turn towards Roman, he holds his hand out for your mask. You hand it off to him and then Jey's theme starts again. Together, you, Damian, and Jey stride down to the ring with you in the middle. Behind you, Jimmy, Roman, Rhea, and Paul Heyman follow.

Before you can stomp up the steel stairs, you feel a pat on your butt. You freeze as the fans behind you laugh and whoop, and glare at the culprit over your shoulder. "That's not very brotherly, Roman," you hiss.

He smirks. "Show 'em your teeth, She-Wolf."

You nod, jaw clenching, and then stomp up the stairs and into the ring behind Jey and Damian. Carlito and JD roll out of the ring, weary of Jimmy, Roman, and Rhea spreading out along the sidelines. Liv and Finn are glaring at the three of you, but Dominik looks like he wants to call the match off.

The bell rings, and Damian takes one step in their direction just as Dominik and Finn drop and roll out of the ring. Liv turns to seethe at them, but then turns back around. "Fine. I'll win this match myself."

Jey and Damian laugh, stepping back to step outside the ring. You step forward, smirking. "We'll see, Güerita. We'll see."

Liv screams and rushes you, but you very easily block her punch. You deliver three punches of your own, driving her into a corner post. Then switching it up, you grab onto the middle ropes and drive your shoulder into Liv's abdomen over and over.

"Stop it, prima! That's enough!"

Dominik's words garner your attention and you turn towards him. "That's enough? That's enough!?" You shout at him. "It's not nearly enough. Cowards don't get mercy."

You realize too late he was a distraction and Liv takes the upper hand. She grabs you by the hair and throws you backwards so you slam your back on the mat. Then standing over you, she delivers kick after kick until you grab her by the ankle and roll her up into a pin. Unsurprisingly, she kicks out and you stand up, grinning.

As you walk backwards, you hold a hand up and let someone tag in. It's Jey. As Jey enters the ring, Liv tags in Finn.

Finn and Jey go toe to toe, evenly matched. Finn gets the upper hand right away, but you and Damian championing for Jey reinvigorates him. When Finn, the coward, realizes he's losing the upper hand, he tags in Dominik. Dominik is too confident as he knocks Jey around, but the moment Damian is tapped in… he's nothing but a scared little boy.

Damian tosses Dominik around the ring like a rag doll that it's laughable. Carlito and JD are too close to the ring, too close to Damian, so you start to climb off the ring as inconspicuously as you can. Roman and Jimmy watch you, not interfering as you watch Liv climb off the side of the ring. When Finn helps Dominik tag team Damian as the ref gets distracted by JD, and Damian then gets up on his knees with his upper body leaning between the ropes, Liv jumps up and grabs him by the back of the head to choke him out on the rope.

Rhea sees everything go down and she chases Liv with her crutch. Liv runs around the ring, laughing over her shoulder, and giving you the perfect opportunity to catch her. Instead of spearing her, however, you pick her up by the back of her thighs and then slam her back onto the announcer's table.

Climbing on top of Liv, you rain down punch after punch. She grabs one of the small monitors on the table and hits you upside the head with it, and you roll off of her. Briefly dazed, you stumble off and right into Carlito's chest. He tries to intimidate you, but you're distracted by the liquid falling into your eyes.

Reaching up, you swipe where you feel the wetness and your hand comes away red. Fuck. You're bleeding from the head.

Carlito gets spun around by Jimmy who starts attacking him, and before you can turn there's a pair of arms wrapping around your abdomen from behind. Liv bear hugs your waist and throws you over her head, into the barricade.

THIS IS AWESOME, the crowd chants over and over.

Trying to catch your breath, Liv then stands and picks you up, tossing you into the ring. It seems Jey and Damian weren't faring as well as you hoped.

You and Liv are now the eligible wrestlers, the two of you slapping, punching, and kicking until you're out of breath. The side of your face is covered in blood, but you're not tapping out. Not today.

The cheers from your faction, your friends, and the fans get your adrenaline going once more. You start slapping and punching back harder. And then as you have her in the perfect position to superkick her, Dominik rushes between the two of you.

"Don't do it!"

You freeze, standing on one leg with the other in the air, bent as you stare at your cousin. "Get out of my way, Dom!"

"No! That's enough."

"It's enough? Now it's enough when I'm about to kick in the teeth of your precious güerita?"

Dominik goes quiet and then he slowly, cruelly smirks. "Fooled you."

"What?"

There's a sudden, sharp pain to the knee of the leg you'd been standing on. It seems Liv got enough wind to sneak around and take you out by the knee.

You go down, screaming, and Liv takes the opportunity to start kicking at your injured knee. Dominik stands over you, laughing, but then gets taken out with a spear by Jey. Then just as Finn goes to fight off Jey, Damian steps in and kicks him off the side of the ring.

Having enough, Damian turns and grasps Liv by the back of the neck and tosses her outside the ring where Carlito and JD readily catch her. "Not today, sucia."

Spitting mad at your cousin for distracting you and the now throbbing pain in your knee, you get up, hopping on your one good leg. "Really, primo? You're gonna let that little hoodrat do me dirty?"

Rolling onto his back, Dominik holds his hands up in surrender. "Listen, it's not- I didn't-"

"Save it." You spit on the mat, closest to his head. Turning, you meet Damian's gaze while pointing down at your cousin. "Put his ass on the mat. Chokeslam that cabrón!"

"It'll be my genuine pleasure, She-Wolf." Damian roars as he strips off the top half of his wrestling suit, then bends down to pick up Dominik.

Dominik tries to get away, but there's no use and Damian chokeslams him brutally. As he groans flat on his back, you push past the pain in your knee and start climbing the corner post. Once at the top rope, you stare down at your cousin who stares up with wide eyes.

Flipping Dominik off, you leap, and frog splash your own cousin before rolling over and getting back to your feet. Damian falls on top of Dominik for the pin and at the count of two, Liv rushes in. But before she can throw herself on the men to break the pin, you surprise her with a spear.

The bell rings and you remain crouched, trying to catch your breath.

Jey and Damian turn around in the ring, offering you hugs for a job well done. Even Rhea rolls into the ring, fist bumping you for taking the win. And when Damian notices you are favoring one leg over the other, he goes to support most of your weight you as Jey excitedly yeets with the crowd.

Jey's smile falters when he notices Damian supporting you and he walks up to you. He grabs you by the chin, tilting your face a certain way to find where you're bleeding from.

"M'fine." You pull your face from your grasp.

"You got a cut by the temple."

"Yeah." Huffing a laugh, you flash him a grin. "Liv caught me with a monitor. That bitch."

Jimmy suddenly jostles his brother, and you turn away, only to bump into Roman. As the others are celebrating the win, you're wincing up at your Tribal Chief.

"Need a medic?" His voice rumbles.

"Nah." You blink and then sway on the spot. "Maybe," you then amend. "And then when I'm all patched up, I want food. I'm surprisingly starving."

"Chicken tenders and ranch?"

"You know it."

Roman grins down at you before lifting your arm and draping it around his neck, helping you walk to the ropes. You crouch down and slide beneath them, surprisingly finding Damian already outside the ring and helping you hop down. You thank him, but then Roman is there and lifting you off your feet in a bridal carry.

As the crowd cheers, you groan and wrap your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder. "I hate you. They're gonna start shipping us if you're not careful."

Roman merely smirks and continues to walk you backstage.

(End of segment broadcast.)

Behind the curtain and off camera, you're congratulated by everyone who'd been watching. Those in the women's division are stoked about how you and Liv put it all on the line like you did. Then after the congratulations are over, Roman and Jey escort you to the medic where the small cut by your temple is cleaned and patched up with a butterfly bandage.

There's a brief segment you all shoot, a victory dinner of sorts where it's nothing but chicken tenders, fries, and ranch. Damian, Rhea, and Jey take great pleasure in joking about Dom and chicken tendies while you, Jimmy, and Roman watch from the other side of the table. It's an odd dynamic with the goofiness on one side and the stoic seriousness on the other. But it isn't until Jimmy reaches for something on your plate that you snap out of watching everyone across the table, your hand snapping out and slapping his hand away.

The slap garners everyone's attention, Jey snorting at his twin holding his hand to his chest with a look of betrayal on his face.

Both Damian and Rhea chuckle.

"Never touch the tendies," she muses.

"Yeah," Damian rumbles. "That family has a weird thing about food."

You turn to glare at Damian, only to end up rolling your eyes. "Do not."

"Do too." Rhea smirks. Suddenly, the amusement fades as she says, "You know, I had my doubts about you when Jey said you could fill in. Family versus family is messy and you almost proved me right when you refused to kick Dom's teeth in." Remembering the betrayal makes you tense and Roman drapes an arm around the back of your shoulders. "But when you had Damian chokeslam him before you frog splashed him." She groans, smiling. "God, that was so good to watch."

Huffing a laugh, you nod. "If you ever need assistance with my primo, I'm only a phone call away." Smile fading, you also add. "And if you need a hand with that pinche puta, call me. I owe her one," you say while gesturing to the bandage at your temple.

Rhea smiles evilly and they cut the segment.

The storyline with Bloodline vs. Bloodline ended up exploding and coming to an end when Nia made her grand return, interrupting your match against Tiffany Stratton. When Nia had gotten her hands on you, Tiffany knew what to do and set up a table just outside the ring. Nia tossed you out of the ring after beating down on you, and before Jimmy or Roman could interfere, she put you through a table as payback.

And that- that was not acceptable to the Tribal Chief.

Roman Reigns had been a force to be reckoned with before there was ever a female he felt protective over, so after seeing you lying nearly unconscious in the wreckage of a table, it sent him off the deep end. For Bad Blood, Roman wanted Bloodline vs. Bloodline, and he got it.

But needless to say, Solo and his Bloodline was no match for the wrath that Roman unleashed. Even Jimmy and Jey were surprised, but the match ended and Roman made everyone acknowledge him.

Having then been given some time off so the industry can roll out other storylines, you gladly take the time to fly back home. You and Jey are very much still in the honeymoon phase of your relationship, so he flies out to his own apartment to pack a few bags before flying out back to you.

Being alone with Jey in your house is a completely different experience than when it was him and the others. This time around, while still fun, there's also a sense of domesticity that should scare you. Instead, it brings you a feeling of happiness and rightness, and you can tell Jey feels the exact same way when he easily makes himself at home in your space.

You're grateful for the time off, especially since your birthday falls during your break. But since you've never made a big deal out of your birthdays, you don't mention it to Jey. The only reason he finds out is because Dominik sneaks into your house early the morning of, along with a couple of your friends.

You're sleeping peacefully when you feel something tickle your nose and you continuously swat at it until muffled laughter pulls you fully into wakefulness. When your eyes blink open, Dominik is crouched on your free side.

"Happy birthday, prima."

"Go away, Dom."

As you move to turn over and hide away against Jey's slumbering form, you spot Rhea standing atop your bed with a party hat on her head and a party horn in her mouth. "Happy birthday!" She shouts, now bouncing and tooting the horn in her mouth.

Jey jerks away, confused as hell, and when your gaze darts to the towering form at the end of your bed, your eyes narrow on a smirking Damian. "Priest?"

"Happy birthday, hermana." From behind his back, Damian produces a large confetti popper and pops it over you.

Multi-colored confetti rain down on you and you groan as you fall against the mattress. "I hate you guys. I love you, but I hate you. Get out."

"What is going on?" Jey finally asks. As you try to pull the blanket up and over your head, Dominik yanks it away.

"It's YN's birthday. Didn't you know?"

"Dom," you whine. "You know I don't celebrate. Why would I tell anyone?"

"It's your birthday?" When you meet Jey's gaze, he looks hurt. "You should have said something."

"No, babe. No," you say. As you cuddle up to him, you shake your head. "I honestly don't celebrate. I don't like dressing up for dinner reservations or going to places where they sing happy birthday to you and everyone watches in awkward silence. I just.." you trail off, sighing tiredly and knowing full well these pushy individuals are going to make you do something for your day. "If I had to choose the perfect way to spend my birthday, it's laid up in my own house while wearing the comfiest clothes I own with a smorgasbord of food in front of me and marathoning my favorite show or movies."

"Say less," Damian muses. "We're doing exactly that then."

Rhea starts excitedly bouncing at the end of your bed. "Now get up. I'm taking you out for manis and pedis, and to get the color in your hair retouched."

"Rhea," you groan.

"Nope. Up."

"Jey?" You glance at your boyfriend, hoping he'd be of some help. You're not that lucky.

"Up." He slowly grins. "But first, a shower." You roll back over with another groan, trying to burrow into your bed, only for Jey to slap you on the ass. "Get up. We're gonna shower, you're gonna go out with Rhea for a girl's day, and all the while we're gonna get shit done here."

"Fine." Very reluctantly, you start to get up. Rhea cheers, but then everyone with the exception of Jey vacates the upper level of your house.

As you and Jey both collect clothes, you disappear into the bathroom together.

He gets the water going, the bathroom steaming up just how you like it. When Jey turns around, before he can strip out of his briefs, you embrace him in a tight hug. With your arms around his waist and forehead pressing against his shoulder, you say, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"Don't even worry 'bout it, baby girl." His arms wrap around you in return. "Some people like big and flashy, some people don't. And can I just say I'm actually pretty relieved you just wanna chill?"

You huff a laugh. "I figured you would be. Me and you are the same when it comes to downtime."

"Mhm. But before I send you off with Rhea…" Jey pulls away to mess with his phone he'd brought into the bathroom with him, along with a bluetooth speaker. "We're gonna start your birthday how it should have been started had I known we was gonna be celebrating you."

You frown at his back, brow furrowed. But then the familiar tune of a song resonates around the bathroom, and you can't help but bark out a laugh. Birthday Sex fills the air you readily strip out of your tank top and shorts when he turns around. "You're determined to traumatize our friends, aren't you?"

"They'll only be traumatized if you can't keep quiet."

"Birthday Sex is blaring. I think they know what's about to go down."

Jey slowly smirks and pushes down his briefs. "Only the best for my girl."

You laugh as Jey lunges for you, kissing you as he picks you up and walks you into the shower, under the heated spray. He then proceeds to start your birthday off the right way with a couple of orgasms before sending you on your way.

. .

Rhea ends up taking you out for brunch before taking you to get your undercut touched up and redyeing the red in your hair, then out for mani/pedis. Through it all, she takes pics and videos. You and her serenade each other during brunch with some Justin Bieber song that had been playing over the speakers, but your favorite probably has to be when you're walking to her car after your hair is all done up and she's blaring We Like to Party by Vengaboys. You start dancing in the middle of the parking lot as she records you, laughing. With those videos in her arsenal, she then surprises you and her fans with a birthday post dedicated to her real-life bestie and that she'd forever be grateful to Dom for introducing the two of you.

When you finally get home, it's just a little after five in the evening. The boys had apparently been busy while you were gone, putting up a birthday banner, streamers, and placing balloon clusters all around the place. Your kitchen island is filled with all sorts of birthday treats and you can't help but laugh when you see it.

"Happy birthday!" Damian, Jey, and Dominik cheer when they see you.

You shake your head, accepting hugs, and then waving off Dominik and Damian when they mention needing to leave to go get the food they'd ordered. Walking up to Jey, you kiss him as he smiles, uncaring that Rhea has her phone pointed at the two of you.

Jey rubs a thumb across the undercut on the side of your head, then leaning in to kiss your cheek. "Have fun with Rhea?"

"Of course, but I missed you."

"Of course you did." He kisses you again before patting your butt. "Now go get changed. There's some stuff laid out on the bed for you."

"Yes, sir." Jey freezes and you wink, laughing as his gaze turns heated before you rush out of the kitchen.

"You two are disgustingly adorable," Rhea muses.

Jey snaps out of his lustful thoughts, pointing at Rhea and the phone in her hand. "Send me any and all pics that you have of me and YN. I'm gonna make a birthday post later."

"You finally gonna let the world know that Jey Uso is a taken man?" She slowly smiles.

"Yeah. I know the industry likes us to keep personal relationships off our socials, but that's my girl, 'ya know? I'm not tryin' to hide her."

"Good. Text the others, especially Jimmy and Roman. I know for a fact they have some good ones of the two of you."

"Good idea, uce."

Upstairs, you're staring at the outfit Jey had left out for you- a white crop top with a pair of gray sweats that say Uso on the ass, and a pink and silver birthday sash. You laugh and get dressed, careful not to mess up your hair since it's styled quite nicely. You even add a light layer of makeup so you don't look like death has warmed over in any inevitable photos, and then put on socks before heading downstairs.

"Pictures!" Rhea whoops when she sees you. "And you can't say no."

Laughing, you and Rhea take pics in front of all your birthday treats before she switches out with Jey, and you take even more pictures with him. Jey then proceeds to pull a cake out from the refrigerator and hand it to you.

"It's not much since it was all last minute," he says, "but I hope you like it."

It's a round, two-tier cake done up in various shades of purple with a marble effect. There are icing flowers along the bottom and edible pearls around the top tier with Happy Birthday, YN written in cursive on top. You smile down at it before glancing up at Jey. "It's perfect." He kisses you over the cake and then you pose with the cake as Rhea instructs you.

When Dominik and Damian eventually get back with the food, they set everything out on your coffee table while you queue up Criminal Minds on your TV.

Amidst the good food, defending that the Criminal Minds episodes with Hotch were better than those without, and some much-needed laughter, you're grateful for where you're currently at in life.

You had kept to yourself for most of your life, never getting too close to anyone. But then Dominik swooped in with these particular individuals who needed a place to stay.. and suddenly you wanted a life you never thought you'd ever have. You got the wrestling job, the man of your dreams, and friends who had quickly become family.

Then when the boys start clearing away the leftover food and instructing you to stay put, you cuddle up next to Rhea and take the moment to check the notifications on your phone. You have texts from Roman, Jimmy, Solo, Liv, and Nia that all wish you the happiest of days. You thank each of them personally and then check your social notifications. Apparently, Rhea's post blew up. The fans are all for the friendship between the two of you, and there are many questions about when Mami and the She-Wolf of the Bloodline will meet in the ring.

To tease the fans, you and Rhea snap two quick selfies- one of you with your heads tilted towards one another, cheesin' for the camera, and another with you kissing her cheek. You post them, thanking her for the much-needed girl's day. Then afterwards, you check out Roman and Jimmy's post that they had also dedicated to you- each Samoan posting candids they'd taken of you, and pics that others had taken when they caught you with them as the She-Wolf or during training as you looked up to Roman and Jimmy as they walked you through some moves they wanted you to try out. But the thing that really gets you are their captions where they both mention you as the little sister they'd always wanted and are happy to finally have.

As you're thanking them for their heartfelt words, a notification pops up about Jey tagging you in a new post. Without looking at him, you open his post and your emotions are quick to well up. The first picture is of you holding your birthday cake, nose scrunched up as you laugh. The second is one of you and Jey goofing off in your pool, the third is of you and him from Smackdown with your mask on, the fourth is of you goofing off with Solo, the fifth is one of you sleeping on the plane, the sixth is of Roman giving you a piggyback ride, but it's the seventh and eighth ones that make your breath hitch.

For the world to see, Jey posted a pic of you and him cuddling on your couch, followed by another one of you kissing.

@JeyUso_WWE: Speaking as Jey Uso, the man (not the wrestler), I'd like to take a moment to celebrate this wonderful woman. I don't like gettin' too personal on here, but these past several months have been such a whirlwind of work and the good fortune of finally findin' the girl of my dreams that I just needed to share it with the world. enterusename came into my life when I least expected it, but I am so blessed to have her by my side, doin' what we love and surroundin' ourselves with friends and family who just get us. Happy birthday, baby. Though I didn't find out it was your birthday until @DirtyDom_WWE, @DamianPriest_WWE, and @RheaRipley_WWE broke in and woke us up by jumpin' on the bed and poppin' a confetti popper over us, I hope you had a great day. Now will you please stop readin' this and get yo ass in this kitchen so we can cut the cake?

Laughing, you quickly wipe at the tears that had gathered in the corner of your eyes, like Jey's post, and type out a quick reply.

@enterusername: Te amo, bebe.

As you toss your phone aside, you get up, followed by Rhea, and enter the kitchen. You immediately hug Jey, kissing him. "Love you too, baby." You smile against his mouth, heart swelling at the affection you have for this man. "But seriously, can we cut this cake?"

Author's Note: I am so sorry for the abrupt ending! I rambled and I didn't know where to cut it off lmao.

Spanish translations: Güera/Güerita - White girl (slang) Prima - Female cousin Sucia - Dirty girl (can be slang to also mean offense to someone) Cabrón - Bastard/Asshole (you get the idea lol) Pinche puta - Fucking bitch (slang) Hermana - Sister. Te amo, bebe - I love you, baby.

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genericpuff · 2 months

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This plot point annoyed me so much! I thought she was finally going to open up to Persephone about the reasons why she hated Hades so much, about what he did to her, but no! They just introduced a new yet unnecessary character to the story 🤦🏼‍♀️

What are your thoughts about it?

oh yeah it annoyed the piss out of me too and for one very big reason that is CHRONIC in LO:

It's a solution to a problem Demeter didn't have.

This happens to a lot of characters throughout the comic. They'll have some kind of plot-driven conflict or character-driven flaw, and then it will be solved by something else entirely that had nothing to do with their original problem or doesn't line up with the theme of their storytelling. Minthe had insecurity issues and a toxic relationship with Hades? Just give her a classroom full of children to babysit! Hades had infertility issues? That's fine, Persephone somehow fixes those issues because at the end of the comic they have babies and Hades has his happy ending so it's fine! Hera was in an unhappy relationship with Zeus and had trauma from her past as a victim of Kronos? No problem, just make her an all powerful fertility goddess! Persephone accidentally causes winter which kills possibly thousands of people? Gaia is here to save the day, and also she's the one who makes Persephone return to the Mortal Realm for a couple months with full visitation rights. Apollo is a serial rapist who's attempted murder on several occasions, even against his own father in an attempt to take the throne? Community service, that'll solve it.

Demeter is one of the biggest examples of Rachel's inability of writing an actual cohesive plotline. She writes like the only goal is to come up with new twists to keep people reading each week without ever considering what themes or questions she should be answering throughout. So when she does pose questions, the answers often wind up being severely disconnected because she can't be bothered to actually plan out a plotline with narrative structure, she just needs 'things' to happen. To put it bluntly and simply, she writes like how a 13 year old on Wattpad would write, no actual thinking about the material she's presenting, no consideration for the curtains and what color they are, just "make the things happen so that people will keep reading because that's what writing is!"

Demeter's problem wasn't her failing to understand Persephone. It was people failing to understand her when she had reasonable cause to both be wary of Persephone moving to Olympus as well as Hades and his intentions with her daughter. But because Rachel needs to have the perfect happy ending for her self-insert power fantasy couple, she resorts to gaslighting both Demeter as well as the audience by extension into believing that the solution to Demeter's character arc... is understanding Persephone more.

Like first of all, the moral "people just want to be understood" is way, WAY too "baby's first storyline" at this point in the story especially when we've tried to tackle much bigger topics like sexual assault, and when we know how complex Demeter's backstory is. There's no way she needs to be told by Hebe that people just want to be "understood". She absolutely knows this already, and has been fighting to be understood by her siblings and peers and family for centuries, but of course, everyone sees her as just "the contrarian".

But then the final solution is... the sudden appearance of Demophoon as her long-lost child, and Hades giving her the volcanoes. That's it. She doesn't get to actually become Queen of the Mortal Realm, she never really gets closure over the past 2000 years of abuse from everyone around her, Hades just - like with everyone - buys her affection and she gets a new baby to pour her attention into instead of Persephone and we're all just forced to go along with it for the sake of Rachel's fantasy.

Rachel can't write (￢_￢;)

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical

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coff33andb00ks · 3 months

Text

Burning - LN

Hopeless, Part 4

{1 - Hopeless} {2 - Luxury} {3 - Poison} {4 - Burning} {Epilogue}

Lando Norris x fem!reader summary: my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder, all my riches for her smiles, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter songs: lover, you should have come over by jeff buckley word count: 5872 warnings: angst, smut <mdni> a.n.: the finale <3

The overlook is quite lovely. Prettier than the photos he'd seen. The sea air is crisp, filling his lungs as he stares at a young family strolling along the beach. Pushing his hands into his pockets he watches them, homesick for something he's never had as the toddler picks up something to show their parents. A wholesome, beautiful moment, unmarred, and he swallows the lump in his throat as it occurs to him that he'll never experience it himself.

Turning his back to the sea, he breathes deep, eyes slowly scanning the area. Trying to match it to the description he'd been given. Gaze landing on the weathered bench he finds he's already walking towards it, one hand slipping from his pocket and reaching to trail along the arm, feeling the wood that's been carved with words and initials. And there, just as he'd been told, the two letters he would know anywhere.

Yours.

He drops onto the bench, leaning forward and trying to keep his breathing normal. It's the closest he's been to you in about a year – one year, two months, one week, five days, thirteen hours.

No, there was that day over winter break. When, melancholy and yearning, he'd spent more than he should have to fly out the week before Christmas, ignoring Oscar's suggestions that he stay away. He'd rented a car, following the roads you'd told him about to the seaside town that you'd described in such detail he could have drawn a map before seeing it. He'd driven the streets, stopped a few houses down from your parents' home. Had sat, watching the house, then cursed himself a million times over for being a fool and driven off.

Oscar hadn't said told you so. He'd merely sighed and nodded, listened to his sad story again.

You'd be so happy that Oscar's become his best mate. He wants to tell you, because he knows that only you would understand why it was such a big deal.

"Mate?"

He looks up, sighing at the sight of Oscar. "Nice, yeah?"

Oscar sighs sadly, sitting next to him on the bench. "You're torturing yourself."

"You said I could have one day," Lando reminds him.

"She's not gonna show up here on a Thursday morning," Oscar says after a moment.

"I know." It would be too movielike if you did. And the only genre of movies that reflects his life is tragedy. Standing, he walks over to stare at the beach again. The family has gone, their footprints already erased by the waves. When he heads back, Oscar stands, and there's a long look before they walk together to the gravel lot where they parked.

"Just call her." It's probably the billionth time Oscar has said the words since Lando's trip to Melbourne over summer break last year.

He exhales, about to lie and say he's deleted your number. But Oscar doesn't deserve lies. "I've tried."

"Did she block you?"

"Dunno." He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, stopped at the end of the lane coming down from the overlook. There's not much traffic, nowhere near enough to warrant him sitting idle for so long. He can't bring himself to hit the call button after punching in your number. Which he still knows by heart. The only number aside from his mum's that he has memorized.

"Lan?" Oscar ventures softly.

"Am I stupid?" he blurts.

Oscar sighs. "No."

"This—" He gestures angrily at their surroundings. "This isn't fucking stupid?"

"I wouldn't say stupid. Ill-advised, maybe?" Oscar follows a passing car with his eyes. "It's been a year."

He knows.

"I think if you were able to get over it, you wouldn't be here right now."

"I don't even know if she's here." His voice is wavering and he can feel the sadness and frustration and anger stinging, piercing what's left of his heart over and over, clawing up his throat and up into his brain, burning his eyes.

"You know her better than anyone." Oscar's voice is still gentle and soft. Careful, and Lando knows he's truly only there to support him. "Where else would she go?"

"Nowhere." This tiny corner of the world is your home.

"Call her."

Lando throws the car into park and bangs his forehead against the steering wheel. "This is stupid. It's been a year. A fucking year. I can't even bring myself to text her or call her, what the fuck do I think I'm gonna do if I bump into her on the fucking street?"

Oscar doesn't speak, merely waits.

"What would I say to her?" he whispers, scared to raise his voice because he knows he'll either scream or cry.

"Mate…"

"It's stupid. I'm stupid. I should never have—" He cuts off, swallowing hard, squeezing his eyes shut. It shouldn't still hurt this bad. "I shouldn't have come."

"But you did."

"Yeah," he gasps.

Oscar's silent for a long moment, looking out the window while Lando struggles to compose himself, knowing that if he reaches out to offer comfort it won't be appreciated. "It's a small town, yeah?"

"Yeah." He scrubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms, wishing his heartbreak had been the type that was easily numbed. He's tried everything. Alcohol, exercise, random women, even random men when he was drunk enough. Therapy, antidepressants, meditation. Nothing's worked. He can get so drunk he almost forgets, he almost loses himself, but just when he's thinking this is it, it all comes rushing back and he snatches his body away from whoever he's with. Never much further than getting his belt unbuckled before he's rushing away with a shit apology and an empty ache in his chest.

It's been over for a year and it's still fucking him up. He can't do what the therapist suggested – seek forgiveness for your part in a wrongdoing – because Charles laughed in his face.

"You? Slept with her? Impossible. She has standards."

Fucking bastard.

"Switch, I'll drive."

Lando doesn't argue even though Oscar hates driving in America. Nothing rattles his unbothered friend. But six lanes of Americans driving like – Oscar's words – fucking cunts? His friend is ready to commit crimes. Once in the passenger seat he sighs, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. It isn't long before he feels the car stop and he sits up, not looking to see where they are. "I'll call the charter for a flight out."

"Not yet," Oscar tells him. "Wait here a minute."

Confused, he rubs at his eyes, trying to keep more tears from forming. He just wants to go. Best to resign himself to being lonely. Alone. Maybe he'll be lucky and time will eventually heal the pain, even just a little, and he can— Grunting as he looks out the windshield, he watches Oscar walk into a small brick building.

"Really, Osco, not the time to be a fucking nerd," he sighs, leaning back and throwing an arm over his face. Why the fuck are they at a library?

It's not long before Oscar's back, getting behind the wheel and humming softly to himself. He doesn't speak, still humming while he buckles his seatbelt and drops a folded sheet of paper in Lando's lap.

"What?" Lando sighs, dropping his arm and looking at the paper. Even more confused, he picks it up. "What is it?"

"Mate."

Sniffling, he rubs at his nose then unfolds the paper. At first he's still confused, reading the address written in Oscar's handwriting. "Is… Is that hers?"

"Yeah."

"H…" He sucks in a breath. "How."

"She said she wanted to go back to school and work in a library, right? They've got a display board up of recent things that have happened, and there was a picture of her with a bunch of kids. A paragraph about how she's working here as a research assistant while pursuing her master's in library science."

Lando rubs at his temples, knowing his friend wants to tell the whole story but longing to tell him to get to the fucking point. And also a little touched that Oscar remembered the detail about you wanting to work with books.

"Asked the lady at the desk about her, said I was an old friend driving through. She's off today, won't be back until Monday. When she went to help someone I nicked the notebook by the computer and it has everyone's address." Oscar smiles, obviously proud of his ability to spy without being caught. "Nice lady. Said y/n's an asset."

Lando nods, typing the address into the search bar of the map on his phone. "It's…"

"Close." Oscar reaches for the in-dash screen, pausing just before his fingers touch it.

He could tell him not to. Could shake his head. And Oscar would nod, they would call the charter, and be on a flight back to Monaco by dinnertime.

And he would spend the rest of his life trying to forget.

He swallows, barely nodding his head.

"…we'll shift our focus to the surge of trade throughout the Mediterranean, but first—"

You look away from your laptop screen when there's a knock on the door. The professor drones on and you mute him, standing from the couch and setting the laptop aside to go see who it is. You're not expecting anyone, and the neighborhood isn't the type where neighbors drop in uninvited. Peeking through the window, you furrow your brow at the unfamiliar car parked on the street. Leaving the chain attached you open the front door just a bit.

And nearly hit your knees in shock.

He's looking down at the stoop, at his impossibly white sneakers, and his hood's pulled up over his head but you know it's him.

"Lando," you breathe.

His head lifts and his eyes take your breath away. They're just as you remember them, the jade hue that could see straight through to your soul.

He looks sad. Worried.

Scared.

"H-hey," he says, his voice cracking slightly.

You can only stare at him, unable to really believe he's on your front stoop. The light breeze picks up and you're slammed by the aroma of his cologne. It's so faint you know you shouldn't be able to smell it but you do and a wave of memories rush through you with it.

"Hey, nice to meet you." He smiled, an easygoing aura radiating from him as he stepped over and held out his hand. "I'm Lando."

"Hi, I'm y/n."

You press your lips together and swallow hard. "Hey," you murmur.

You, walking along pit lane with Charles and on the phone with your best friend. "So I finally got the game installed. I need to upgrade, the lag is so bad I die before I can get a shot in."

"Really? What are the specs?" Lando asked suddenly, appearing at your side.

"Call you back," you laughed into the phone, putting it away and smiling at him. He was always popping up to talk to you, had quickly become one of your favorite people on the grid. He never seemed too busy to at least stop and speak to you, that easy smile putting you at ease.

Lando exhales, his shoulders rounding. His eyes are almost mournful, the light of memory flashing and you wonder if he's reminiscing, too.

"Sorry 'bout the mess," he muttered, picking up a helmet and looking around, finally placing it two inches from where it had been.

"It's fine," you promised with a laugh. "You live here, it shouldn't look like a magazine spread."

"Yeah? I guess. Anyway, here you go, have a seat."

You swallow again, the sound of his hand slapping his computer chair echoing in your mind. Easing the door to a little, you reach up to unlatch the chain and take a step back as you pull the door open further. "What are… How did you know where to find me?"

"I love it here, really, but I miss the space. I miss having a little patch of grass where I can plant flowers and not have people squeezing in around me," you said, sliding the tarts from the baking sheet to the cooling rack.

"I get it. But I mean, you could talk to Charles, right? See about getting a place with a garden?" Lando looked at the tarts with a longing sigh.

"At least let it cool," you teased. Leaning against the counter, you shook your head. "No, this is his home. He'll never want to move out of Monaco."

"I like it here, but it's not home." He shrugged, pinching off a piece of the pastry shell for a taste, grinning when you slapped at his hand. "There's a villa up the coast a ways – it has space and nice gardens. I've thought about getting it, but seems a waste just for me."

"You could get a dog."

He's standing in your tiny living room. He looks so out of place and yet he fits and you think you're just in shock. Pushing back his hood, he fiddles with his hair, the nervous gesture you remember him doing. "Osco… He's with me – I mean, in the car," he says, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb. "Man's a fucking spy I think."

"No, no, you put your hand here." His face is serious as he guides your hand to his shoulder. "Okay?"

You nodded, grateful he was willing to teach you. You knew Charles would happily pay for dancing lessons but it's embarrassing, not knowing how to waltz. And when you'd mentioned it to Lando he'd said to come by, he could show you the basics, and he'd practice with you so you wouldn't make a fool of yourself at the prince's gala. His hand moved to rest at your waist, warm and strong, and you felt a glimmer of heat as his other hand took yours, holding it up.

"We'll take it slow, yeah?" he asked softly.

He's still standing there, looking lost and scared, and all you can do is stare at him. You've seen him – on tv, online, on your phone because you hadn't been able to delete the pictures of him and every once in a while your phone likes to play a sick joke and throw you a memory that somehow always includes him. But you're struck by the slight differences since you've seen him in person. His hair is a little longer, that one curl he used to complain about dancing against his forehead. The scar from Amsterdam last year is faded, barely a line across the bridge of his nose.

He's still the most handsome man you'll ever see. He still takes your breath away. It's taking everything in you to not beg him to forgive you.

"Love it. This. Us."

You suck in a breath and hold it. "How are you?" you ask, because really what else can you say?

I'm so sorry I never should have let us end like we did, even if we were hopeless from the start. I still love you, I'll never stop loving you. I'll never stop needing you. I'm miserable.

"I'm fucking miserable, y/n." His voice is strained. "I-I came months ago. At Christmas."

You feel your eyes widen at the same time you watch his do the same. Suddenly recalling a strange car parked just down the street from your parents' home that had sped off. At the time your first thought had been that it was someone up to no good. "You did?" you whisper.

"I remembered where your mum and dad live, and I… I hoped I'd see you."

He would have, if he'd waited five minutes. But you remember the texts you'd sent that had gone unanswered. The one phone call you'd attempted two months after moving away from Monaco, at four in the morning when your dreams had been him.

They still are.

Lando takes a step forward. "Y/n…"

"Why are you here?"

"I miss you," he says, his voice still strained. Like he's just finished crying. Or is about to. And you don't want to see him cry. It'll break your unhealed heart. "Are… Are you okay?"

You jump slightly when there's a soft tap at the front door. It's still hanging open – way to go, just invite burglars and murders in – and both you and Lando spin to look.

Oscar holds both hands up. "Sorry to interrupt. Um… Hi."

"Hey," you squeak. God, you can't do this. You can't have this awkward, painful conversation in front of Oscar. "C-come on in," you say, dragging a hand through your hair.

"I, um, just…" His cheeks darken as he closes the door and he clears his throat. "Could I use the restroom?"

Blinking at him, you feel Lando step closer to you. With a small nod you point in the direction of the bathroom, backing away from Lando as soon as Oscar's back is turned.

"Y/n… Please—"

"What?" you ask. It's as though seeing Oscar threw some common sense into you. "I'm in the middle of a class."

"For the library thing, yeah?" One corner of his mouth lifts.

"How did you—" You glance towards the bathroom. "Maybe he is a fucking spy."

"He was trying to help me."

"He always has," you whisper.

"He's kept me from going completely insane this past year. I… I owe him a lot," he murmurs, and he's picking at his own fingers.

You're reaching to stop him and jerk your hand back. He's not yours to comfort. He never was. "He flew all the way here with you when he could be home with his girlfriend. I think you owe him at least a new car."

"She's pregnant."

You gasp. "Really? I should—" But you can't. You haven't been able to call her, either. You text sometimes, but your friendship with the other girlfriends will never be the same. She hasn't mentioned being pregnant and you know it's because you're not in the 'club' anymore. It's a wildly different life you lead now. And you're happy. You're miserable and lonely but you fake the happiness for the sake of your family and coworkers. "I'm happy for them."

"God, I hate this," he whispers, and he rubs his hands over his face.

Then he's reaching for you. Almost catches you, but you jerk away.

"Y/n—"

"You have no right, Lando. What, did you think I'd just fall right back into your arms?" you ask, voice trembling because you want to. You want to be hugged as only Lando's ever been able to do. But you can't let yourself, remembering all too well how your life had been destroyed because you wanted a hug once.

"I didn't – I miss you," he whispers. "It's been a year and I still can't wash the coffee cup you left on the counter because it's… It's still got your lipstick."

Your heart twists, thinking of the hoodie tucked in the very back of your closet. The one you were going to throw out two weeks ago but couldn't after you opened the bag and could still smell him. Then you firm your resolve. You can't. "I'm not stupid. I've seen how not lonely you've been—"

"I was trying to forget you!"

"Then try harder. Doomed, remember?" You'll never forget him saying that, or how your heart had fractured.

"I couldn't even do it, because I felt like I was cheating on you!" The words ring out and he looks shocked, face twisting. "That's how fucked up you got me."

That rankles you, and you don't know if it's because he tried or because he's blaming the failure on you. "It's not my fault you can't get off," you snap.

"I can only get off if I'm thinking about you," he snaps back.

Your cheeks flame, your broken mind immediately conjuring up the image of him in the shower or on his bed. And you would swear you can hear his breathy moans. You bite your tongue hard to keep from confessing that when you try to make yourself cum you have to think about him, too. "Lando—"

"Tell me you're happy," he whispers. "Say it and I'll go."

"Happiness is subjective," you say, because despite everything you can't lie to him.

There's a creak or a sigh. Both your heads swivel and though you've only ever respected and admired Oscar, you aren't happy to see him. He doesn't speak, turning and studying the notes and photos on the refrigerator door.

Your heart lurches, knowing he'll see the snapshot of Lando.

"Y/n."

You snap your eyes back to him, forgetting all about his friend when you look into his eyes.

"Can we just… Talk. Please."

"I would have talked a year ago. When you left me on read. I would have talked a few months later, when I called you and you didn't answer." The worst part had been that his voicemail greeting was the automated voice.

"I was hurting! I was trying to get over you! I wanted to hurt you—"

You gasp, the admission a knife in your chest. You deserve it, you know that, and so much worse, but it stings.

"Like you hurt me."

"What was I supposed to do, Lando? We were doomed. You said so yourself."

"I'd rather be doomed with you than broken without you."

You must leave. Despite how long it's been you're not strong enough. You doubt you'll ever be strong enough to resist him. About to step away, you remember it's your house. Small and cramped and yeah the neighbors are too close for your liking. But it's yours. "Go, Lando. Live. Be happy without me."

"Like you're happy here?" he asks, throwing his hands out. "Rotting away in a fucking library?"

"I was happy until you decided to show up." Your voice cracks and you try to hold it back but a sob escapes as you back away, shoulder banging the doorway of your bedroom.

"Don't lie to me, y/n," he pleads, taking a step closer and reaching out.

"Don't touch me." You shrug his hand away, trying to get out of his reach, lift a hand to slap his arm. He catches your wrist before you can and your breath sticks in your throat when he moves forward. "Lando, please, let me go—"

His lips crash against yours and you whimper. It's harsh and demanding and you struggle weakly against him, spinning as soon as his hand grabs your waist. His near feral moan vibrates through your body and in a heartbeat you're clutching at his hoodie, whining as your back meets the closing door.

"Lan," you whimper, shaking your head as you break the kiss. "Please, we—"

"One more," he gasps. He lets go of your wrist, his hand trembling as it cups your cheek. "God, please… I just need you one more time. Everything's wrong without you." His lips brush over yours, and you feel your own inconsolable longing reflected back at you. "Y-you were everything, let me feel everything again."

His kiss tastes like tears and stifled rage. It grows harsher, his body crowding yours tighter against the door. It's everything you've wanted for over a year and yet not enough and you whisper his name into the breaths you share, knowing you'll feel the worst pain imaginable when it's over and you're alone all over again. The pull of him is too strong though and you want to feel everything again too, want just one morsel of what you once had.

"Wish I could hate you," he groans, voice as rough as his fingers in your hair, so tight your scalp stings. You whimper with both delight and pain and he answers with a moan, snatching back, breathing uneven as his hand slides from your hair and there's a frantic, familiar scrambling to remove his hoodie and your shirt. His moan as his fingers brush your bare skin ends in a whine, tracing patterns over your chest. "Wanted to hate you. Wanted to forget you but you—" His mouth is on yours again, his hands clutching at your breasts. Your nipples are stiff before his thumbs brush them and he groans deep in his chest, pressing his thigh between yours.

He pinches and squeezes, lips almost cruel on yours, and you can feel the rage he feels. Know you deserve every bit of it for everything you'd done, and more than he's capable of showing. Tears sting your eyes. It's beautiful, crushingly so, because you know this will be the last time. You want to rush ahead, to feel the incandescence only his lovemaking had created inside you and you also want to slow down, to memorize every breath, every touch, so you can cling to the memories for the rest of your lonely existence.

"Y/n…" It's a low, drawn-out moan, lips parted over yours.

"Please," you gasp. You're practically squirming with need, and the hate for you that he can't muster is there, coming from yourself. "Need it, Lan…"

You feel his pained grimace, taste the ache and the agony on his tongue. "Need you," he whimpers.

"Us," you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut as your tears fall.

"Us," he barely sighs. One hand slips down, the rage still there as it pushes between your bodies and into your panties, cupping you and squeezing. His ragged groan echoes in your ears and it shreds the last sliver of your sanity.

You tip your head forward, initiating the next kiss, loosening your grip on his biceps and letting your hands smooth over his warm skin. Breathing in and holding it so you can taste and smell and feel him all at once. Your fingers trace the necklace at his neck and more tears fall – it's the one you gave him two years ago. Rough, his fingers rub along your slit, his other hand thudding against the door then cupping your throat. His lips still on yours, whining when you brush the tears from his cheeks.

He leans into you, fingers rubbing steadily, teeth catching your bottom lip as they grow slick. "Did you…" He moans when one finger dips, your hips tilt forward, pushing yourself against his hand. "You miss me, baby?"

"Yes." You're gripping his wrist, clutching his hair.

"This?" His fingers move in slow circles over your clit. "…Or me?"

"You, Lando, you," you whimper, head falling back, the curling heat so sudden you fear you'll cum already.

"Have you let anyone fuck you?" he asks, still rubbing your clit agonizingly slowly.

"N-no." Your cheeks burn, hating yourself for feeling a spike of desire at his crude question. Pulse racing, you can hear the blood rushing in your ears, and his low hum as he leans closer, lips at your ear now. Your pussy clenches, gushing and you let out a shaky moan, able to hear the slick sounds of his fingers working your clit. Your hand wraps around his wrist and he chuckles.

"You need to cum? Hm?" He moans right in your ear and your pulse thunders beneath his fingertips at your throat. "You're gonna cum that quick?"

"I—" You whine, clutching tighter at his wrist. "It feels good, Lando, I can't…"

"It's gonna feel better when I'm fucking you," he whispers.

"Yes," you hiss, head falling back with a thump. "Please!"

"You want it, baby?" There's a slant to his cooed words and you wonder if he does hate you after all. "Want me to fuck you?" His lips tug at your earlobe, smirking while you whine. Slipping his fingers down, he dips them inside you, echoing your moan as you immediately squeeze around them. "Oh I missed your pussy so much… That's why I couldn't fuck 'em, you know?"

"Lando, please." God, you're gonna cum. It's sick and it's twisted now, but he knows exactly how to play your body.

"Cuz I know how good this feels…" He sucks on your earlobe, fingers curling tightly, exhaling harshly as they brush your spot and your hips jerk. "Gonna feel so good when you cum on my dick."

"Yes, baby, I need that," you whimper, digging your nails into his wrist. You need it more now than you did a year ago, your body buzzing. "God, please… Let me cum for you, Lan – Fuck!"

"Cum on my fingers, baby," he hisses, stroking your spot so hard it hurt. But his words and the reminder that he knew exactly what to say and do to you send you spiraling, pussy squeezing tightly around his fingers as a ragged cry ripped from your chest. "That's my girl, fuckin' cum…"

His fingers slip out and you gasp at the gush, tugging at his hair while he rubs your slit rapidly as your body tenses and trembles, panting harsh in your ear when you squirt over his fingers. When you slump back he coos, fingers strumming your clit and causing your back to arch.

He snatches his fingers from your clit with a low growl, and your lips meet in a fierce kiss, hands meeting at his belt. You wriggle between him and the door, frantic and scrambling to remove your panties, gasping against his tongue as he kicks his jeans away and then he's jerking your hips towards him, pressing his face to the side of your neck and your breath catches in the back of your throat, hooking your legs over his hips. His cock, hard and straining, glides along your slit and his teeth sink into your skin as his hips surge forward.

"Lando," you cry out, eyes rolling back.

"Make me hate you. Please, fuck, I need to hate you."

"How?" It's a broken sob.

"You can't." He presses his forehead to yours, hands so tight on your hips you know you'll feel the bruises forever. "You can't, y/n…"

"I'm sorry," you whisper, lifting trembling hands to cup his face. "I'm so sorry, Lando."

He exhales slow, releasing your hips and sliding his hands up, keeping the rest of his body still. It feels as though he's re-memorizing your body, closing his eyes while his palms sweep over your shoulders and up to your wrists. There's a prolonged moment as his shaky breaths fan over your lips, then his eyes open.

They're luminous. Shining with emotion. You can't breathe, can't even blink, can only just barely feel him shift, reminding you he's buried deep.

"I miss you so much." His hands are gentle, smoothing your hair back and cradling your cheeks. There's the reverence you remember.

"I'm right here." Your vision blurs and his lips are on yours, tender where they'd been rough before. "I'm right here, baby."

"Can't lose you," he mumbles, shifting again, his arm winding around your waist and holding you close. "Can't lose you again, baby, okay?"

You whisper his name, unsure of what to say. You're not sure you understand. "Lan?"

He kisses you again, turning and you're floating even after he lays you down on the bed. Each touch is gentle, like he's afraid of hurting you.

As though you're a dream he doesn't want to wake up from.

"I love you," he says. And for the first time since he stepped into the house it's the voice you remember. Clear and bright, warm and your favorite sound. It's him, the real Lando that you know and love.

Your lips part to say the words back – of course you love him, you've loved him since the beginning, before he was yours to really love. Before he was your forbidden secret.

"I bought the villa." Even he looks surprise as the words pass his lips and there's a small smile on his face and you want to laugh at the absurdity of the moment. He's talking as though he isn't inside you, as though he didn't just make you cum against your bedroom door.

"You did?" you ask softly, fingers following the freckles splattered over his cheek and neck. "When?"

Lando shifts, gently guiding your legs around his waist. The friction causes your toes to curl and he pauses, stuttering out a whimper. "F-first of the – god – year."

"Do you like it?" You're asking about the villa, remembering the photos he'd showed you on the realty website.

"Fuck I love it so much," he moans. His hands squeeze your thighs and he lifts himself up slightly, licking his lips slow. Eyes still luminous, he looks down at you and you can feel he's holding his breath.

"I love you," you whisper. "I love you so much."

And it's like that's all he needed. He leans down, kissing you deeply, his hands finding yours and holding on, fingers tangled as he rolls his hips slow. His thrusts are slow and deep, echoing moans and gasps the soundtrack to the passion. There's no subdued rage or cruelty anymore, and you whisper apologies between kisses, needing him to know how sorry you are for hurting him.

"I'm so sorry… I love you… Love us." You whisper the words over and over, tasting the salt of his fresh tears and yours.

Clasped hands tighten, knuckles turning white. "Be mine," he murmurs, his tremble rippling through you. When you arch, crying out yes, he dips his head, pressing sweet kisses over your heart.

"I always was," you promise, eyes locked with his as the passion crests and you cum with a scream of his name. It's blinding, deafening, and all you know that is real is the tight grip of his hands.

"Get your degree," he murmurs an eternity later. You nod, heart racing, the ache that has been in your chest for so long begins to fade. "Move in the villa with me."

"What if it's doomed?" you whisper, fear slicing through the elation. "What if we fail?"

"W-what if we win?" His breath stutters harshly, hands squeezing yours even tighter. "What if it's sacred?"

He kisses you, both of you trembling as his thrusts quicken and you feel his muscles grow tight. Your name is a soft, pleading cry and you feel the heat of him filling you, hips straining and pushing you deeper into the mattress.

Another lifetime passes with delicate kisses. Tender whispers. Praise and love are murmured between you, and you feel the eternal hope springing back when he offers forgiveness.

If it's all a dream you never want to wake. You'll gladly sleep until your final breath or even hasten your end so you never have to know cold reality again. But it's not a dream when you wake up, it's real and he's real, and the love in his eyes is still there.

The peace, the dreamy bubble formed around you, is burst by a gentle tapping at the bedroom door.

"Um… You good, mate?" Oscar calls out, his voice amused and embarrassed.

Lando giggles against your shoulder, kissing your skin before lifting his head. "Are we good, love?"

"Can we get a dog?" you ask suddenly.

"Just one?"

You nod. "To keep me company while I'm studying."

Lando grins, dipping to kiss you quickly. "All good, Osco!"

"Thank fucking christ," Oscar groans..

a.n.: originally this was close to 9k, but I cut a full scene from the end, because these two idiots deserve a happy, hopeful ending. I hope you enjoyed. housekeeping: if you'd like to be added to my taglist(s), please fill out this form.

#f1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #my writings > ln #my writings > ln > hopeless

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annabelle--cane · 3 months

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Do you have any recommendations for vampire movies. I need to check off a list

YES okay here's a bunch I've watched and liked in the last few months:

nosferatu 1922; german, silent, black and white. every time I go to watch a silent movie I think "ugghhh this is gonna be boring" and then it rules. if you are a dracula enjoyer, this is actually a fairly faithful adaptation up until It's Not, and there are some interesting visuals and story choices to ponder.

let the right one in 2008; swedish. surprisingly tender romance between two lonely tweens intercut with lots and lots of violent murders in austere snowy winter settings.

a girl walks home alone at night 2014; iranian, black and white. less driven by plot, more by visuals and style. very slow, thoughtful, and emotionally evocative film occasionally broken up with scenes like "guy takes ecstasy at a costume party while dressed as dracula and can't get himself home so a vampire takes him back to her place by pushing him on her skateboard that she recently stole from a child." also there's a cat.

bit 2019; american. kind of falls apart in the third act but it's fun enough that I'd say it's worth a watch anyway. trans girl graduates high school, moves to LA, and falls in with a lesbian vampire girl gang, ft. an extremely good sequence set to "rasputin."

thirst 2009; korean. haven't actually finished watching this one, but it is absolutely balls to the walls. so much sex and blood and bloody sex and sexy blood and catholicism. catholic priest volunteers to participate in medical trials and gets infected with a rare blood disease, and, whoops, now he's a really horny but tortured vampire. tense as all hell, based on the french novel therese raquin.

renfield 2023; american. is this a good movie? no. is it extremely fun? yes. very much a popcorn movie with gore so excessive that it crosses beyond the pale and becomes slapstick. this renfield is a bit of a renfield / jonathan harker hybrid character, suffering under the same old vampiric abusive boss over 100 years, and he's starting to want to try and break free of dracula's thrall.

byzantium 2012; british. gorgeous visuals, lovely performances, imo the script could have used another draft but it's very watchable. two vampire women bounce around england trying to avoid capture by the vampire authorities, but the younger of the two is getting fed up with having to lie about herself to everyone and move constantly. interesting one to compare to bit, they're doing a lot of similar thing wrt gender dynamics and vampirism as power.

broad content warning, there's a lot of sex, violence, and sexual violence across this selection, if anything of that sort tends to upset you then I'd recommend checking the doesthedogdie page for any film in which you're interested.

#vernalloy #answered #vampires

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maxarchive · 7 months

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2024 L'Équipe Interview, "I always need to improve."

This fascinating dive into the heart of a champion's life, through his words, reveals the warm and endearing man described by those who know him intimately. A 26-year-old man, different from the one we have become accustomed to seeing over the years, this wild and cold beast who leaves no room for improvisation and feeling.

At your press briefing, you said you'd rather talk about your car than non-sporting problems. So, how is this RB20? It's great. I felt comfortable in it straight away. I'd say it was more of an evolution, an improvement on the previous car.

Is that so? Despite all the exterior changes, are your driving feelings close to those of last year? It's even a little better, a little more natural. And that's great.

Did you feel it as soon as you got into the car during winter testing? You can never be sure right from the first run, but I could see from the start that it was well balanced and, above all, that I could set a good time straight away. That's a sign that the car will be fast! After that, you have to know where the competition stands. We don't know how the others have worked.

Did you have the same feeling with the RB19 in early 2023? Pretty much, yes. There were a couple of things to sort out, but nothing dramatic.

Of all the Red Bulls you've driven driven since 2016, is there one that you like the most? The most fun were those of the previous generation (before the 2022 ground effect regulations).

The one from 2021? Exactly (his face lights up). The car was great, it was responsive. Today, they've become heavy, wide and long.

But do you like them all the same? When you're driving the best car on the grid, when it's a Formula 1 car, of course (he laughs).

Weren't those 2021 cars a little on the edge? Didn't they force you to make mistakes sometimes? (He reflects.) No, I don't think so. We managed to make the most of it, and then there was this philosophy, this way of to make it sharper (his hand mimics the diving single-seater like Red Bull used to design its single-seaters). I loved it.

Are you having more trouble today? (He smiles.) No… I don't care. I can adapt. But these 2021 cars, they went faster through the slow corners, they moved better. I was having more fun.

When they say you can drive any car, what would you do at the wheel of a Haas (last team in the standings last year)? (He smiles.) I don't think I'd win a race.

Not even a podium? Normally not (he reflects). Probably not. But I'd try do a better job than anyone else, that's for sure. After that, if the car is slow, it's slow.

It seems that since the advent of ground effect cars, you've been unbeatable. Do these single-seaters require special driving techniques and do you adapt better to them? I don't think so. If I'm successful, it's because I've got a great team around me who have built these fabulous cars. We had a bit of trouble getting back to the top with the old generation, but by 2021, we'd figured it out. And by 2022, things were looking up.

So, no change in style? Of course not. The cars have changed, and so have the tires. But we're adapting.

In what way? The car is heavier so I can't rely on it as much. The tires are wider, which means less visibility. The suspensions are so hard that we have to work on a new way of attacking the curbs.

Does that take time? Yes, it does. But it's the same for everyone.

Last week, Pierre Waché, the designer of the RB20, told us he really appreciated your technical feedback, that it allowed the team to progress. What do you have to ask him today, when you crushed the first race? Every car has its weaknesses and it takes time to overcome them. We haven't driven on enough tracks yet to tell you. Last year, it was the street circuits. This year, I'll tell you later, but I'd say they're details.

You give the impression of always having had a steering wheel in your hands. What's your first memory? (Instantly.) I was 3 years old and rode a mini moto.

And in a car? In August 2013, in Wales, on a Formula Renault 2-liter on the Pembrey circuit. It was my first experience in a single-seater. Something very different from karting. It took me a while to adjust my behavior and reflexes. I had no experience of tires, especially as it was raining. It was raining hard. The first few laps were a bit hard, and I spun a few times, but after that I had a blast. I had Michelin tyres which are excellent in these conditions. I just loved it.

Everything seems easy when you talk about driving. I was lucky enough to have a father who helped me a lot and gave me lots of advice. And the best thing was to let myself go and find the limit of the car.

Do you think your success can be explained by the talent or hard work you've put in to progress? Some people are more gifted than others. It's the same in soccer. The first day I drove a go-kart, I smiled (his eyes sparkle). And I haven't stopped since. The helmet (he mimes putting it on), I didn't take it off all day. I knew it was what I wanted to do.

This winter, you went GT racing with your father. Can't you stop stop driving? It's my passion. I also love the simulator. It's important because by changing cars all the time, you can adapt more quickly to the changes in F1. I need to try things out; I always need to improve. And I love making a car go faster (he smiles).

Alain Prost confided to us that his last year in F1, in 1993, was a very tense one, when he was favourite for the title with the best car in the field. Now, for your fourth title, you find yourself in a similar situation. How do you see this season? I'm not asking myself that question. If I don't win, I look for the reason why. Is it my fault? Then I'll correct the mistake. It's not my fault, so I'm going to help the team improve our performance. You can never win it all.

Is that why your duel with Lewis Hamilton in 2021 will surely go down as one of the greatest seasons in Formula 1 history? I know you're not going to agree with me (he smiles). But, in my eyes, the best was last year. People saw it as a one-sided domination, but you don't measure the degree of involvement of every member of the team in achieving this amazing result (21 wins out of a possible 22 for Red Bull, 19 for Verstappen). It's something I'm very proud of. It must have seemed boring to some people, but I don't care (his hands make a helpless gesture). I'm here to judge my performance and that of the team. And 2023 was the best season ever. The 2021 season doesn't even come close.

Translated via DeepL

#max verstappen #f1 #interview #2024

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empyreanroses · 8 months

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I just remembered why I love the Halstarion pairing so much.... they are literally Hades and Persephone.

Astarion embodies the symbol of death due to his vampiric condition and is naturally driven to the essence of blood to fulfill his undead state. (Traits of winter, decay, and decomposition)

Halsin is a druid and a gifted healer, so of course his job is to preserve nature and all of its living things. He loves animals and becomes overly protective whenever someone threatens the natural order. (Spring, growth, prosperity, etc.)

Can't stop thinking about Hades!Astarion seeing Persephone!Halsin and becoming FLABBERGASTED at his beauty, wanting the druid all to himself. (like the greedy vamp that he is lol)

#i know this au has been done over dozens of times but hear me out 😭#hades!astarion just snatching persephone!halsin away oh my goshhhhhh MY HEARTTTTTTT #bg3 #astarion #halstarion #halsin #halsin x astarion #bloodbear

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absolutebl · 10 months

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I Cannot Reach You - Kimi ni wa Todokanai REVIEWED

This image perfectly captures how I feel about this show. You ready? I wasn't.

I Cannot Reach You

AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai

Japan 2023 - 8 eps 20 ea approx 2.5 hours

Themes, main tropes & archetypes: friends to lovers, tsundere/sunshine, self acceptance, self worth, high school BL, live action yaoi, soft romance, kindness

Rating? 10/10

Yeah, it happened again in 2023.

Adapted from a manga.

The moment I finished binging this show I was thinking about writing about it and re-watching it. This is a sure sign that I adored a piece of media.

This is a wonderful BL.

Truly well executed, with smooth filming and lovely acting, both of a simplistic style that felt slightly more Korean than it did Japanese. It reminded me a little bit of Seven Days and a little bit of Takara and Amagi, and since these are my two favorite high school JBLs obviously I was bound to adore ICRY.

But what it reminded me of more than anything was Cherry Blossoms After Winter.

Odd for JBL and KBL to be so closely linked.

Like CBAW show, ICRY is classic live action yaoi.

Like the MOST classic of CLASSIC.

All the JBL tropes. I mean look at that image above? It's rooftop assignation, kabedon, and a handhold ALL AT ONCE.

There was also multiple runnings of the gays, surprise kisses (one on a bridge), and shoulder leans.

There is even a “seme looses control to desire” scene which leads to dub con. There is an abject apology after but still - you’ve been warned.

The premise is: smart sporty hot (and hella gay) Yamato has a long standing crush on his silly sunshine sweetheart bestie, Kakeru. Yamato is also stiff, self isolated, shy, and has only ever really managed to get along with Kakeru. I love this kind of pining seme so damn much, it probably biased me.

Unlike most uke, Kakeru starts to slowly figure out that his best friend is in love with him by ep 2 (let the chaos bisexual identity crisis commence).

So do some of the friends around them.

The story thus revolves around Yamato trying to unsuccessfully suppress his desire, and Kakeru trying to figure out if he can return Yamato‘s affection.

This biggest barrier is actually Kakeru's feelings of inadequacy and unworthiness (when compared to Yamato). But this is tempered by his genuine kindness which forces him into act with integrity around his dear friend's love and strive to fix everything (even himself) to prove worthy of it - whether he can ultimately return it or not.

Kakeru's struggles are pitted against Yamato‘s repressed need that keeps bubbling over and figuratively (sometimes literally) attacking Kakeru with romantic, emotional, and physical intensity.

Quick pitch:

This classic friends-to-lovers BL is everything Japan does best. Angsty. Emo. Aching. Driven by real thirst. Yamato is deeply in love with his childhood bestie, Kakeru, and has been for ages, unable to hide his ungainly damaging high school need. He wants Kakeru in every way possible and it oozes off of the screen. Kakeru is silly and a little simple, but not frenetic or overly camp about it. He is earnest, and genuinely wants to keep Yamato in his life which means giving a romance (and gayness) a fair chance. We watch him realize his affection and what form it can take in a truly authentic way. This show was impossibly kind to both of its lead characters and I felt almost honored that I got to watch something so lovely and rare play out on my screen.

I’m not gonna lie, I dithered over whether to give this a 10/10 and nearly didn’t. But there is nothing wrong with it AS A BL.

And it's so GOOD to ALL of its characters and they are so good to each other. It's quiet, and because of that and its goodness, it will get overlooked, but I LOVED IT.

It's not one of those that BL outsiders will get and you must like Japan's style to enjoy it. But I'm in it. It's for me.

What am I hung up over? Even the kisses are good.

10/10

I CAN'T RECOMMEND IT HIGHLY ENOUGH

Welcome to a very elite club. I gotta change all my best of lists now.

I am sorry to tell you how difficult this show is to get hold of. It deserves a much wider distribution. As of Nov 2023 I do not know where to legally find it internationally with eng subs. Please check the comments for updates.

It's on Netflix in some countries!

Try to find it, you won't regret it.

(source)

#my favorite JBL of 2023 #best of the year?#Japanese BL #I Cannot Reach You #Kimi ni wa Todokanai #JBL #Japanese bl #live action yaoi #adapted from a manga #this is what i want from japan #it's just so good and so good to it's characters and they are so good to each other

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mixelation · 3 months

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on itatori and physical intimacy

i've been meaning to sort of flesh out this side of their relationship more. mutagenicity flavor itachi/tori is kind of weird in that it started as a joke, and also it started back when i didn't want to actually write about tori with anyone due to fear of cringe content. however since then my views on tori ships have shifted a lot. she is absolutely hooking up with all the other ships i've written for her. so does she ever hook up with her fake boyfriend??

the thing is. i don't think either tori OR itachi are very sexual. for the other tori ships

async: tori falls for the fantasy of a pretty man protecting her from her horrible shitty circumstances and is so unused to feeling this way it makes her act insane. she likes the fantasy minato represents and eventually learns to like and care about the person he actually is, but she's not actually overly interested in sex. that aspect of their relationship is mostly driven by minato (up unti the shinigami gets involved and it becomes.... weird), but she enjoys it because it makes her feel safe and cared about and also orgasms feel good, plus she does deep down like getting to do things for minato. she tolerates cuddling because she likes having a human weighted blanket and built in weapon

toxicity: tori hooks up with obito because she likes having power over him. that's mostly all there is to it. it's not completely devoid of affection (she wouldn't want to lord power over him that way if she didn't ALSO like him), but the sex itself isn't really an attractant for tori. i don't think they do a ton of cuddling or anything, EXCEPT when obito wants to see other people lose their minds by holding hands or putting his arm around her waist or, god forbid, kissing her in public

the weird kakashi/tori/obito au: it starts off as mostly a power thing. tori likes scams because of the sense of control it brings her, and she gets off on tricking kakashi. i don't think she'd organically go this route if obito wasn't egging her on, and it additionally pats her ego that kakashi is receptive. it does eventually collapse into at least partly "but it makes me feel closer to this person i like a lot" and also orgasms feel good. most of it is led by kakashi in what on the surface must seem like a painfully heterosexual way

now, the thing about itatori is.... itachi also isn't super into sex. i think he'd be into other types of physical affection (cuddling, kissing, hand holding, etc) but also he is so fucked up he doesn't really think of those things as options available to him outside of vague, impossible fantasies

plus they're both mutually like "this is FAKE we are FAKE DATING" even though after some point. they're just dating with some extra steps. they hang out in private. they have mutual hobbies and interests. they like each other in a mostly platonic but also very strongly "yes i AM hitching my ride to this person for potentially forever because who else would i do this with" way. so i think for a very long time, all their PDA is just for show, and they're definitely not having sex

now, itachi's relationship with his family is actually insane, and he spends a lot of nights crashing at tori and deidara's. so people definitely think they're having sex. why wouldn't they be?

(do not speak to deidara about this. he is upset about every single step of their relationship but also he has this weird sense of loyalty where he won't call them out in public. he knows itachi isn't sleeping with tori and he's annoyed he's in deidara's apartment and also he feels like he can't say anything!!!!!)

i think at some point it might occur to tori that she might actually be in this Forever, and it is not going to be fun to fake that she and itachi are Doing Stuff. like, they can just say they're private people, but also people are going to stop blaming them being physically awkward with each other on them being too young to be very experienced.

so one winter night itachi is over and deidara is being a bitch about wanting the heat on low because he like the apartment significantly colder than tori and tori is like. welp. itachi, you're sleeping in my bed tonight!! human space heater time~

and i think plasticity!tori would find bed sharing intrusive and uncomfortable, but mutagenicity!Tori has had this beaten out of her by growing up in settings where kids are expected to basically sleep on top of each other, and then field missions often require you getting in your teammate's personal space. and so..... it's nice? bed sharing is nice, actually. itachi is very warm. he, somehow, makes her feel safe.

and then tori slowly figures out itachi secretly actually really likes several types of physical affection BUT he's insane about it so she'll be like, "fine i'll take one for the team, it's not like i want to try this or anything. itachi, listen, i am literally your girlfriend. if you want to kiss me, you're allowed" and he's like "???? PANIC" and she's like "IT WOULD BE GOOD FOR OUR COVER" and he's like "oh, sure, yeah--"

so like five years into dating they kiss* for the first time and deidara is judging this stupid thing SO hard. you two are SO fucking dumb

also at some point deidara realizes he has no clue if they're hooking up or not. he's pretty sure if they do start fucking they will go about it in the most bizarre, alien courtship way possible so he has no idea how to judge. he hates them

they still don't like holding hands though

*there might be a fake kiss earlier if i think it's funny

#reborn au #toriverse

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that-basic-simp · 5 months

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Let Your Hair Down

Mizu X Fem!Reader CW: N/A WC: 1.2k+ A/N: This was originally going to be the first one-shot I was going to upload since this was the first one I wrote.

"You should wear your hair down more often," I said.

"And what? Get you and I killed?"

"No, I meant when we're alone. When we don't have to worry about people coming after you."

"I'm still surprised you haven't gotten killed either. Or kidnapped and made to be a prostitute."

"That makes two of us," I said.

"You really should hide yourself better."

"Like you?"

"It throws people off. And also no one will ever know because they die. A dead man tells no tales."

"Funny, weren't I the one to figure out your secret?"

"Because you kept following me when I said not to."

"You really don't remember me?"

"I try not to remember Kohama all that much."

"Can't say that I don't blame you. Kohama didn't treat me right either."

"This world doesn't treat women right."

"That's why we're not women," I smiled at Mizu.

"You do a horrible job at disguising yourself, you know that right?"

"Come on, try to be at least uplifting once in a while, Mizu."

"I can't when I am constantly worrying about our backs out here. More specifically yours."

"Aww, did I warm my way into the cold samurai's heart."

"I'm not a samurai. They're honorable. I have no honor."

"Not yet you don't."

"You think seeking revenge is honorable? It's anything but, Y/N. I don't know why you even followed me to begin with."

"Because I saw something you can't see in yourself."

"That being?"

"A lost, broken soul that is trying to get back at the people who wronged you. Especially that white man who caused your birth."

"What gave it away?" Mizu asked sarcastically.

"I wasn't finished. But also someone who constantly views themself as a monster, an onryo."

"Join basically everyone I have ever met," she sighed.

"But I also see a person who just wants someone to see you for who you truly are, not what you are."

"And who am I, Y/N?"

"You're Mizu. Simple as that."

"And who exactly is Mizu?"

I let out a soft chuckle, "Seems you need to do some soul searching, Mizu. Currently you're out for revenge, so I don't think soul searching is your thing to worry about right now."

"Well, who is Mizu to you?" she asked, curious.

"A strong person who will go the distance to get whatever needs to get done. A driven soul that wants to get back at the people who wronged you, but don't really go after those of your past. Those who treated you poorly and called you horrendous things. Just after the guy who made you and your mother suffer. Someone who is in need of a kind and caring soul," I smiled at Mizu, trying to find her true eye color, but with her tinted glasses, they weren't helping.

Closing her eyes, she reached up and removed her glasses. Slowly opening them, she tilted her head upwards. My eyes found hers. I have only seen her true eye color once in a while and it was when she glared at me over her glasses. So to finally see them in their fullest and at their most vulnerable, it reminded me of the calm waters on the peaceful beach. How clear and stark they were, piercing like the ice, cold, too. Harsh, like a winter storm was raging behind those eyes. A single tear slid from her right eye and dropped onto the floor we were sitting on.

"I'm a monster, Y/N. Simple as that. Someone who shouldn't even belong in this world."

"Yet you're still here."

"I'm here for a reason."

"Your body could have easily given up on you. But you're resilient and able to push yourself through struggles. Sure you're here to get revenge, but you being here," I reached over and grabbed her hand gently. "Is a gift."

She shook her head, "I'm not, Y/N."

"To me you are. That's all that matters. And to me, I don't see a monster."

"Then what do you see?"

"A beautiful woman or handsome man. Whichever you prefer, with the most alluring blue eyes I have ever seen. Bright like the sun lit sky, calm as the waters at a peaceful beach, and yet, harsh and cold like a winter storm."

Another tear slid down her face as she turned away, shaking her head, "I-I--"

"It's ok, Mizu."

She turned and faced me, "No one has told me that before. T-Thank you, Y/N."

"You're welcome. It's a shame people only see you for your physical features and not what you harbor on the inside. Aside from revenge," I chuckled.

A slight smile formed on her lips. It was very rare for her to smile for a long period of time. Actually, it was just rare for her to smile period. Rare to show any kind of emotion other than being serious and taking no bullshit. But for some reason, I was able to worm my way into her life and still stick around.

"Everything ok, Y/N?" she asked, a little worried.

"J-Just thinking," I said.

"Thinking about what exactly?"

"Nothing too serious. Not like I could plot to kill you. I could never raise a blade like you do. It's almost as if you learned everything on your own. All the different fighting skills and blended it together to kind of make your own."

"I guess you could look at that in a sense."

"You're amazing, Mizu. You know that, right?"

Looking into her eyes, they widened slightly and she blinked a few times. Her mouth opened and closed before some pink crawled underneath her eyes. Reaching over, I placed my hand on her left cheek, turning her head to face me.

"Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise. Because I will come back and prove them wrong."

The right corner of her mouth twitched slightly, as if she was going to smile but didn't. My eyes flickered between her eyes and her lips. Letting out a soft sigh, she reached up and removed the string that held her hair together. Her long, raven like hair fell down past her shoulders. It really complimented her blue eyes, making them stand out even more than they already do. I couldn't help myself now.

Leaning towards her, I lightly placed my lips against hers. A surprised sound came from her as she backed up slightly, causing me to pull back.

"I-I'm sorry. I-I should have asked. Fuck," I breathed out, some tears forming in my eyes now. "I-I read into it too much, didn't I, Mizu? Shit, I-I'm so so sorry, I-I didn't mean t--"

I was cut off by Mizu returning the gesture. Fluttering my eyes closed, I reached up with both of my hands and dug them into her silk like locks. Pulling away, she found my eyes and smiled. It was soft, genuine, and for the first time, full of love and admiration for someone.

"Don't be sorry," she whispered. "I should have done that first, but you beat me to it."

I giggled, "You know, I was right."

"About what?"

"That you look gorgeous with your hair down. Or handsome. Whichever one you prefer."

"I prefer yours," she smirked.

My eyes widened and blinked rapidly as blush crawled onto my cheeks.

"I--uhm--uhhh," my mind went blank.

She chuckled and pulled away, "Thank you, Y/N."

"Y-You're welcome, Mizu," I said once I gathered my thoughts.

Sitting beside her, I set my hand down. Looking down from the corner of her eye, Mizu placed her hand on top of mine. Smiling, I leaned against her shoulder, placing my head on hers. Hers rested against mine and both of our eyes closed, taking in one another as we fell asleep, getting some much needed rest.

#mizu x reader #bes mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #blue eye samurai

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warriorofthought · 4 months

Text

Part 2 I did love you, always!

Summary: Bucky broke up with you but the Winter Soldier still loves you.

Word count: 2189

Warnings: sad and sentimental Feelings

Winter Soldier x Reader

You had, with Bucky as the winter soldier controlling his body, two wonderful weeks until his mind slowly started to slip back, bit by bit into Bucky.

You and Winter didn't talk about how you both will manage it when Bucky comes out again, just ignoring it and making the best out of it. It's foolish, you both know it.

Deep down in your heart you know you can't lose Bucky again, but you don't care in which mind you have him but to lose his individual again will shatter your heart in thousands pieces again and never will heal.

Currently you walk from the stable into the living room, carrying a few Wooden blocks to throw into the fireplace as you see Winter sitting on the sofa a bit lost in thought, his phone in his hands.

You throw the Wooden blocks in the oven and then walk closer to him. “Are you writing someone?” You ask and see him slightly flinch, which surprises you.

You look a bit more focused on him and see, in winter's eyes, that he slipped a bit back into Bucky.

“Bucky? Who did you write to?” You ask gently.

You see him frown, then his eyes set on you.

“Sharon.”

You nod, swallowing hard. It's what you have expected to happen.

You watch him, and see how Bucky's eyes flicker before they are Winters again.

“I'm sorry, my love. But Bucky has written to Sharon.”

“Don't worry, it's alright. Are you feeling good?”

“I'm, my flower”

“Are you sure? Can I do something to help you?” you ask concerned and pat his thigh.

Winter grabs your face, soft but firm. You grasp slightly and watch him, his eyes piece into yours with a deep frown.

“Everything is alright, Winter.” You say comforting.

The Winter Soldier relaxes his grip and kisses your forehead.

He is silent for a moment, just holding you. But then he whispers.

“I know you are right, but somehow that makes everything tougher… Sharon loves the real Bucky. But you actually love me, the other side of him and him, you love us both equally.”

“I know, don't break your head with this thought alright, I will love you, no matter what happens.” You promise him.

“Just let us enjoy our time, hmm?”

You see Winter nod gentle at you.

You grab his hands and walk over with him to the sofa, there you put on the tv. It's Winter's favorite show, you let it play.

In the meantime you watch Winter, his features. You still see the emotion from the killer machine that Hydra produced, but he is surprisingly soft in everything he does as long as you are present.

But then you also see how Bucky starts to appear slowly more often. His eyes start to lose the Winter Soldier touch.

Then one night without your knowledge as you sleep, Bucky writes Sharon.

Bucky sat at the kitchen table, the glow of his phone illuminating the room in the quiet of the night. The message to Sharon was crafted with care, each word heavy with the weight of his decision. He glanced over at you, asleep on the bed, your face peaceful in the dim light. You were everything to him, the anchor that kept him grounded. Yet, here he was, pretending to love Sharon, a facade he had built out of fear and confusion.

His relationship with Sharon was a facade, a fragile construct built on lies and deceit. She was ambitious and driven, but her love for him was shallow, lacking the depth and understanding he found with you. He knew he had to end things with Sharon before the charade became unbearable, but the thought of hurting you in the process filled him with guilt.

Then he start writing:

Sharon,

I can't keep living this lie. I'm leaving. I'm sorry.

Bucky

The message to Sharon was written, and his thumb hovered over the send button. It felt like he was about to detonate a bomb.

Then he hit send. It feels so heavy.

He set his phone down, his hands trembling as he fought back tears. He couldn't bear to face your disappointment, but he knew he couldn't stay here any longer. He quietly gathered his belongings and slipped out of the farmhouse, the night swallowing him whole.

The next morning, you woke to find Bucky's side of the bed empty and his belongings gone. Confusion and fear gripped your heart as you searched the house for any sign of him.

“Winter?!”

“Winter, come on, where are you?” you still don't hear anything.

“Bucky? Bucky, are you here?” but still you get no answers.

When you found nothing, you reached for your phone, your hands shaking as you dialed his number.

But there was no answer and your heart sank. You knew then that he was gone, leaving behind nothing but unanswered questions and broken promises.

As the sun rose, casting a warm glow over the farm, you stood alone on the porch, your heart heavy with grief. Bucky had vanished without a word, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart alone.

The sound of a car approaching broke the silence, and she turned to see Sharon stepping out, her expression a mixture of confusion and anger."Where's Bucky?" Sharon demanded, her voice sharp. You met her gaze, your eyes filled with sadness. "He's gone, Sharon. He left last night."Sharon's face twisted in disbelief. "Gone? What do you mean, gone? He sent me a message to come here."

Your heart ached as you watched Sharon read the message on her phone. You knew the pain and confusion you felt mirrored Sharon's own emotions. Bucky had left them both behind, with nothing but his lies and deception to show for it.

“That coward," Sharon spat. "He ran away and left you to deal with this? Typical."

You stand your ground.

"He was scared, Sharon. He made a mistake. We all did."

Sharon's eyes blazed with anger.

"Don’t try to justify his actions. You knew about us and still kept seeing him."

You feel a pang of guilt but you keep your voice calm. “Sharon, Bucky is in a conflict with himself, the winter soldier is still fighting to stay.” Sharon scoffed, shaking her head. She doesn't listen. "You’re pathetic. Both of you."

With that, Sharon stormed back to her car and drove away, you felt a profound sense of loss wash over you.

You watch as the car disappeared down the road and step inside the farmhouse again with a heavy sigh.

Bucky Barnes stood in the middle of an icy, snow-covered field, the frosty air biting into his skin. The winter sun cast long shadows, and the quiet was almost eerie. In his mind, a battle raged between the memories of his past and the life he was trying to build.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered by the appearance of a figure he knew all too well: the Winter Soldier.

It was like looking into a twisted mirror, seeing himself in the cold, unfeeling eyes of the assassin he once was.

The Winter Soldier stood still, his expressionless face partially hidden by a black mask, his metal arm glinting in the dim light.

"You can't run from me, Bucky," the Winter Soldier said, his voice a mechanical growl.

"You think you can hide behind new memories, but I am always a part of you."

Bucky clenched his fists, feeling the weight of his past pressing down on him. "I'm not you anymore," he replied, his voice firm but strained. "I've changed."

The Winter Soldier smirked, a chilling sight. "You think you've found love with Sharon, but you're lying to yourself. You know who your heart truly belongs to."

Bucky's mind flashed to memories of you, the woman who had been a beacon of warmth in his life after he was freed from Hydra's control. Your smile, your laugh, the way you made him feel like he could be more than just a weapon. But then there was Sharon, dependable and strong, someone who understood the world of espionage and danger.

"You don't know anything about love," Bucky spat back. "You're just a ghost."

"You can't hide from me, Bucky. You can't hide from what you really want." Bucky squared his shoulders, trying to steady his racing heart. "I won't let you control me anymore," he replied, his voice resolute. "I'm not the Winter Soldier."

The Winter Soldier's lips curled into a mocking smile. "You're right. You're not me. But you can't deny the truth. You can't deny who you truly love.”

Bucky's mind flashed to memories of you, the warmth of your smile, the gentleness of your touch. But there was also Sharon, strong and dependable.

He had tried to convince himself that being with her was the right choice, the safe choice. Yet, the Winter Soldier's words cut through his defenses.

"I care about Sharon," Bucky insisted, but even as he spoke, doubt clouded his mind. The Winter Soldier took a step closer, his gaze piercing. "But you love y/n. You know it. I know it. You're just too afraid to admit it.”

Bucky felt a surge of anger and confusion. "Why do you care? You're just a remnant of my past. You don't know anything about love."

The Winter Soldier's expression softened slightly, a rare hint of emotion breaking through. "Because I'm a part of you, Bucky. I know everything you feel, even the things you try to bury. You can't run from yourself."

Bucky clenched his fists, the internal struggle tearing him apart.

"I don't want to hurt Sharon. She's been through enough."

The Winter Soldier shook his head.

"You don't have to hurt her, but you have to be honest. With her, with y/n, and with yourself. You owe them that."

Bucky's resolve wavered, memories of you flooding his mind. He remembered how you made him feel alive, how your presence had brought him peace in the chaos of his past. He had been trying to build a new life, but it was a life without the one person who truly made him whole.

"How do I do it?" Bucky asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "How do I make things right?"

The Winter Soldier stepped back, his mission complete. "You start by being honest. Go to y/n. Tell her how you feel. Fight for her. You have to be willing to face the pain to find the happiness you deserve. Then we can be one and live happy."

Bucky watched as the Winter Soldier faded into the snowy landscape, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Leaving the snowy landscape behind, Bucky set off on a journey that was both literal and emotional.

He traveled across snowy landscapes and through bustling cities, driven by the hope of making things right.

When he finally reached your doorstep again after he was on the farm where he left you behind and didn't find you there, his heart pounded in his chest.

He knocked and after a few moments, the door opened. You stood there, your eyes widening in surprise and uncertainty. "Bucky? What are you doing here?”

"I came to see you," Bucky said, his voice shaking with emotion. "I need to tell you the truth. I made a mistake, y/n. I thought being with Sharon was the right thing to do, but it was a lie. I love you. I never stopped loving you.”

Your eyes filled with tears, but you didn't move. "Bucky, you hurt me. You broke up with me, without a good reason. Then as you fall back into the winter Soldier mode, you suddenly remember me?"

"I know," Bucky said, stepping closer. "And I'm so sorry. I was scared, confused. But I can't hide from my feelings anymore. You mean everything to me, y/n. Please, give me another chance to prove it."

For a long moment, you just look at him, your expression unreadable, even a bit disappointed. Then, slowly, you nodded. "It's not going to be easy, Bucky. You've hurt me deeply."

"I know," Bucky said, his voice filled with determination. "But I'm willing to fight for us. I'll do whatever it takes."

You took a deep breath, your eyes searching his. Finally, you stepped aside, letting him into your home and, tentatively, back into her heart.

“That is your last chance, Bucky. You can be lucky, I love you.”

“I promise, to do everything, you earn your trust. I love you too, so so much.”

It was the beginning of a new journey for both of them, one that would require patience, trust, and a lot of healing. But Bucky was ready to face it, knowing that this time, he was fighting for the right reasons. And as they sat together, the warmth of the fire contrasting with the cold outside, Bucky felt a sense of peace. He was no longer running from his past. He was embracing it, using it to build a better future. For himself, and for the woman he loved.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #love #the winter soldier #the winter solider x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #bucky fanfic #forgiveness #happy ending au

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