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#and it ended up being like that but it works so whatever
cinnamorollcrybaby · 15 hours
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Fuck being nice to you
Tags: Nanami x Reader, nsfw, mdni, exhibitionism, cock worshipping
An: I’m thinking about either doing a part two or an alternate ending where Satoru ends up joining in 🤭
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“Yn, this is ridiculous- Come out from under there… No, come on. Someone’s going to see you- You want me to…. Yn, darling, that’s too risky. I promise we can do whatever we want as soon as we’re home. Just let me.. Ngh~ fuck.. don’t… don’t look at me like that.. Oh.. my god, where did you learn that..? F-fuck… This is so… irresponsible- You’re going to.. ngh agh! .. pay for this, you little m-minx.”
That’s what Nanami sounded like as you climbed under his desk, begging to taste him while you two were at work. You had successfully undone his belt buckle, and pulled his length out from his boxers and slacks.
Nanami is such a handsome, well put together man. He always smelled so clean with an undertone of his woodsy cologne. He kept himself nicely groomed… everywhere. He wasn’t shaved completely because neither he nor you liked the look. So, he kept his blondish pubic hair trimmed down for you.
His dick was also just… pretty? You always thought that was impossible after your years of being sent unsolicited dick pics by disgusting men, but Nanami?? No, his cock was pretty, long, and cut. Along his shaft, he had one protruding vein that ran up the underside of his dick. His tip was thick and swollen. It was always such a pretty shade of red when you made him hard like this. When you held it in your hands, it was nice and heavy too. You wondered how he managed to walk with that thing.
You had pressed his cock up against your face, and you fluttered your eyes up to look at him while his length was nuzzled against your cheek. It was nearly bigger than your face for fucks sake. Nanami had no business keeping weapon like that on him.
Nanami’s face burned bright red as he told you not to look at him like that. You looked so pretty on your knees below his mahogany wooden desk. All he wanted to do was wreck you, but he tried to force those thoughts aside.
Nanami was a lover in bed. He loved to kiss on you, dote on you, rub on you, make you feel so so good. He cherished and respected your body wholeheartedly. He fucking loves you. But sometimes… on rare occasions, Nanami felt the sick intense need to just ruin you. ravage you. wreck you. use you. fuck you until he’s shooting blanks.
Seeing you look up at him all nice and pretty with his cock so blatantly pressed against your face just sent his brain into overdrive.
He let out small groans as you licked his tip, teasing the very sensitive portions of his length with your tongue. He held one of his hands over his mouth to mask some of his noises. You two were still in his office, and anyone could walk in at anytime. His other hand was grasping the back of your hair, entangling his fingers in your soft locks.
A gasp left his mouth as soon as he felt your plush lips wrap around his girthy length. The wet noises that left your mouth soon following were nothing short of pornstar worthy.
You had this grown ass man moaning, growling, and shaking with your mouth alone as you sucked, licked, and kissed all along his length. You were absolutely sloppy with it too. He was always clean and put together, and you just wanted to defile him.
A mixture of your spit and his precum was gathered at the base of his length from you bobbing your head up and down. Spit trickled down his balls, and you used your hand to cup them.
“You’re so f..fucking good at this..” He groaned lowly as he kept his eyes on you. It was like watching an artist at work. “So fucking perfect… my good girl.” He cooed as he petted your head, still trying to repress the thoughts of making you his fucktoy.
His praise only seemed to make you work harder for him, swallowing and gagging around his length. You would hum and whine from the discomfort, sending vibrations up his cock. Small tears involuntarily dripped down your cheeks.
Gods, he was so fucking torn. On one hand, he wanted to wipe your tears away and tell you to be gentle with yourself. On the other, he wanted to yank your hair and make you take more of him. In his intoxicated state, he ended up doing both.
“Don’t push yourself too hard.” He chided as he forced his length down your throat.
He sounded like an absolute asshole.
If your mouth wasn’t full of cock, you’d probably giggle at his little blunder.
He was close. so fucking close. He could feel his balls tightening as he started to rut his hips upward, making you take more of him in at his pace.
So close. He was right on the edge when his office door opened.
Violence was a necessary part of Nanami’s career. He didn’t ever search it out by picking fights with people. He actually didn’t even enjoy confrontation all too much, but he wanted to fucking kill whoever was daring to interrupt his moment with you.
Nanami’s eye visibly twitch when none other than Satoru Gojo walked into his office. He was not in the mood, and he was all out of patience right now for the white-haired man.
Now, your sweet husband assumed you’d.. you know… pause your sucking while his coworker friend? was in the room. Unfortunately for him, he was unaware of your sick and twisted sense of humor.
“Nanami~” Satoru’s voice drawled in a whine as he dramatically flopped himself over the back of the chair across from Nanami’s desk.
“What is it-“ Nanami’s eyes almost rolled back into his head as you slowly took his length back into your mouth. “-Gojo?” He added as he gripped the sides of his chair tightly. His veiny hand was red, and his knuckles were turning white.
“Someone ate my dessert in the break room.” Satoru dramatically whined again. “Who would do such a thing? I’m wanting to launch an investigation.”
“Are you seriously bothering me about this right now?” Nanami hissed in a more vicious tone than he normally used. He didn’t mean to be rude, but he needed Satoru to just fuck off right now.
You swallowed his length, trying to be semi-quiet about it, but there was some wet noises. Nanami quickly coughed and shifted around in his seat. You were going to pay for this.
“Why are you so grumpy, Nanamin?” Satoru asked, unfazed by Nanami’s harsh tone. He was used to it by now. The white haired male cocked and eyebrow and lazily smirked at your husband. “Wife problems already?” He taunted.
Oh yeah, Nanami had a wife problem alright. His problem was that his wife was on her knees practically begging to be fucked.
“What do you know about-“ Nanami coughed loudly again to prevent from moaning as your tongue swirled around his tip. “- wife problems?”
“Uh… Nanamin, are you okay?” Satoru asked as he tilted his head to the side.
“Yeah.. yeah.. Actually- no, I think I’m falling ill. I think you should g-go now… I don’t want to contaminate you..” You didn’t know your husband could be such a filthy liar, but here he was. His voice was breathy and needy. He was nearly panting in front of his coworker.
“Oh- Oh ew.” Satoru’s face twisted in disgust as he hated getting sick. “Text me if you need anything, Nanamin.” He said as he promptly left the room.
As soon as Gojo was gone, Nanami rolled back in his chair quickly so he could get a good look at you.
“C’mere.” He grunted as he grabbed you by your blouse. He stood up out of his chair, pulling you to your feet.
He spun you, so his chest was against your back, and he carefully tread his hands up your sides, feeling up your curves that your pencil skirt didn’t bother to hide in the slightest.
He then gently tugged your hair back, causing for you to lean your head back into his shoulder with a small yelp. His lips ghosted over your ear. “Did you have fun making me look like a mess in front of Gojo, hm?”
You’re such a brat sometimes. You nod your head and let out a small giggle, remembering Nanami stuttering over his words and shaking while you sucked him off under the desk.
“Yeah? Was it funny?” He asked as his hand pressed to the center of your back, and he bent you over his desk. “You want to act like a whore so badly; I might as well fuck you like one, isn’t that right baby?” He purred into your ear, making your eyes widen. Nanami had never spoken to you like that before in the past. You didn’t even know he was capable of degrading you.
You fucked up.
Nanami curses as he looks at your plush ass against his bare cock. He’s carefully rutting it against your backside while he’s intoxicated by the way his cock looks buried between your clothed cheeks.
“Ken~” You moan as you arch your back up off the desk a bit more.
“Shut up.” He demands lowly. He can’t hear your whiny voice right now while he’s trying to hold whatever sliver of self restraint he has left.
“Mmnnph.. p-please..” Your whimper sends him over the edge.
“Fuck being nice to you.” He growls lowly as he pushes your tight skirt up and over your ass. He marvels at how pretty you look, bent over his desk like this.
Slap!
His hand forcibly connects with your bottom, causing you to jolt forward from surprise. A small whimper escaped your mouth. “T-too loud..”
“You didn’t seem to care earlier when Satoru was in the room. Is it different when he’s the one hearing you slurping?” He taunts lowly, and he gives your ass another firm spank.
“N-no!” You whine out.
“You wanted him to hear you, didn’t you?” Your husband growls as he swats you again.
“No, I-I just wanted t-to make you feel good.” You’re practically searching for friction on his desk. The ache deep inside you feels like torture. You raise your hips again, hoping Nanami will finally just take you.
Your words tug at his heartstrings a bit. Deciding you’ve had enough punishment, he pulls your panties down around your ankles. He carefully presses his fingertips to your warm, wet heat, and he groans from the feeling.
“You’re this wet from sucking me and getting spanked?” God, you’re a national treasure to him. So perfect in every way.
You weakly nod and hum in approval. You try to push back on his fingers, but they were already gone. The sound of clothes shuffling filled the room as Nanami pushed his pants and boxers further down his thighs for easier access.
He looks down at you with a barely noticeable smirk as your displayed so prettily for him over his desk. His wife’s pretty cunt was practically begging to be fucked, and who was he to deny her that pleasure?
A small grunt escapes his mouth as he aligns himself with your dripping entrance. He feels a bit of resistance against his cock that normally isn’t there. He normally preps you a lot more, given that he knows his size can be uncomfortable if not properly prepared.
“Ken.. ngh.. p-prep?” You breathily ask as you drag your hips upward, presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat.
“No, I want you to feel this, baby.” He lowly coos before burying himself to the hilt deep inside of you. Your fingernails claw at the desk, and tears spring into your eyes involuntarily.
“F-fuck!” You whimper out, trying to hold yourself together.
Nanami lets out a quiet groan from the feeling. You’re squeezing him so perfectly right now. His hands trap you against the desk, and he pulls all the way until just his tip is in before pushing back inside forcefully. He repeats this motion a few times, making you feel every inch of him. You did this to him. You asked for this.
Small whiny gasps and moans fled your mouth. You tried to be quiet. You really did, but it was so hard when he was fucking you so deliciously from behind, making your cunt squelch with each forceful thrust.
“I hope he comes back and sees you like this.” Nanami growls lowly in your ear. “.. sees my pretty wife.. ngh fuck! .. taking my cock so well..”
His words literally have you hypnotized. The thought of someone walking in was frightening yet erotic at the same time.
“I wouldn’t stop either.” He goes on as his hips clap against your ass. “I’d let him watch how I fuck my wife.”
“Ken~” You whine from his vulgar words. You’re practically seeing stars as he hits all the right places. He knows you like the back of his hand. He knows just how you like to be fucked.
As you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, Nanami growls from the look on your face. You look so fucked out and cock drunk already. He can’t hold back anymore.
His grasp on your hips is nearly bruising as he pounds himself into you, not caring about the noise. The desk creaks and scrapes against the ground with each powerful thrust. You try to keep yourself together as he fucks you into oblivion, but your body is nothing but a puddle.
“F-fuck~! Ken, I- .. cumming..” You barely manage to warn him before you’re spasming on his cock. He fucks you through your orgasm until you’re panting and whimpering against his desk. You weakly try to sit up, but his large hand catches your shoulder and forces you back down.
“I’m not done with you yet.” He lowly growls as he resumes his harsh thrusts. Your hands grab at the desk tightly, and your eyes screw shut as your poor cunt is so sensitive.
“Fucking… ah~ fucking take it, slut.” He demands as he rails you from behind. His thrusts are growing erratic and uncoordinated. He’s so close for the second time. He leans down over your back, and he bites down on your shoulder harshly before pumping you full of his cum. Your sloppy hole clenches around him as you find your second orgasm. Something about Nanami taking what’s his just really did it for you.
Slowly, he releases your shoulder from his teeth, and he presses soft kisses into the bite mark. “Are you okay, my love?” His adoring tone his back.
“‘m perfect..” You mumble quietly, on cloud 9 from receiving the best dick of your life.
“That you are, darling. So perfect.” He praises as he trails his kisses up the side of your neck. “I love you so much. You’re such a good wife.” His lips press against your jaw and cheek. “and a good girl too.”
“So, I’m not a slut?” You ask with a small giggle, remembering how he degraded you for the first time earlier.
“You’re my slut.” He quietly corrects with a soft chuckle. He then quietly hisses as he pulls out of you. He watches as some of his cum trickles down your swollen cunt. “So pretty.” He murmurs quietly as he leans into your heat and presses a small kiss to your sensitive folds, making you shiver.
“You’re not going to get any work done at this rate, Nanamin.” You playfully chide as you bite your bottom lip, silently hoping he’ll kiss your cunt again.
“Fuck that work.” He grumbles lowly before pressing another wet kiss against your core as you tremble before him.
He didn’t get any work done that day.
tags: @theuniversesnepobaby @lemonlimecrystal-blog
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firewasabeast · 2 days
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Can you please do a hurt/comfort Eddie + Tommy friendship with Bucktommy - Tommy gets hurt in some way (mentally/physically/sick/etc) and Eddie helps him until Buck can get there
you gave me a reason to finish the fic I started earlier today! thank you!
His teeth were chattering. Had been since he woke up after hitting the ground.
He didn't hurt anywhere, which was never a good sign.
He laid there, surrounded by trees. Cold, wet leaves underneath his body. He could hear crickets and frogs all around him. Could smell smoke somewhere nearby.
There were distinct sounds of metal creaking mixed in with nature.
Slowly, he moved his head to the right, then to the left.
Fire.
It was about fifty yards away. Thankfully, due to the recent rain, the fire was contained to the helicopter that had so gracefully fallen out of the sky.
He wasn't sure how he ended up so far from it. Had no memory of being ejected or jumping or whatever happened that made it so he wasn't inside those flames.
He lifted his hands to his face, could barely see them as the sun set below the trees. He was sure there was blood. Dirt, mud, leaves, and blood.
They shook so fiercely he wasn't sure how he had any control over them at all.
His breathing was labored, heart beating rapidly. No matter what he tried, he couldn't seem to calm himself down.
Suddenly, in the distance, he heard something.
People talking.
Not just people, familiar people.
Family.
“H- Here,” he barely managed to get out, figuring they'd be running toward the fire instead of him. He cleared his throat, tried again. “Here! I'm here!”
The talking stopped, then there was running.
He could feel the pounding of the footsteps as they approached.
“Hey, we gotcha, Buddy!”
“Howie?”
“Yeah, it's me. Saving your ass, once again.”
Hands were on him now. Lights shining in his eyes, causing him to squint. He could hear others talking. Hen, Eddie, Bobby. Couldn't quite make out what they were saying.
Chimney had him focus on him. “Can you tell me your name?” he asked.
“T- Tommy,” he answered. God, he wished he could stop shaking. He couldn't barely get out a word.
“Year?”
“2024.”
“Best paramedic you know?”
“Hen,” Tommy replied, choking out a laugh.
“Hey now!” Chimney exclaimed, mocking offense.
“I knew I liked you,” Hen said with a smile. She patted him on the shoulder before getting back to work.
Chimney chomped on his gum a couple times before asking his next question. “Can you wiggle your toes for me, Tommy?”
Tommy shook his head. He lifted his arm, tried to pull Chimney closer to him so he could whisper. “I c- can't feel anything,” he paused, sucked in a shaky breath, “b- below my waist.” He knew what this meant, and he also knew he was in shock. The adrenaline pumping through him was the only thing keeping him remotely alert.
Chimney nodded, sharing a glance with Hen. “Cervical collar for our dashing pilot here, please, Hen.”
“Already on it.”
“Ho- Howie?”
“Yeah, Buddy?”
“Ev- Evan?”
“Buck went home early today,” Eddie answered, moving into Chimney's place so he could do whatever work needed to be done. “Chief is cracking down on overtime, so he had to be sent home.”
“We've... We've been sa- saving f- for the wedding,” he explained, although he wasn't sure why. Everyone there already knew that.
Eddie took Tommy's hand and wrapped it up in his own. “You were probably already up in the air when Buck sent you the text complaining about being sent home.���
“He'd say... He'd say th- the chief didn't want us t- to have the good hors d'oeuvres.”
Eddie nodded, tried putting on a smile. “He did mention that on his way out.”
Tommy squeezed Eddie's hand. “We m- might have to re... reschedule.” His lip trembled at the thought, tears welling in his eyes. Evan was so excited for the wedding. Had been working diligently and meticulously on every detail since they got engaged in October. He wanted a winter wedding, and didn't want to wait another whole year, so February it would be. With it being December now, Tommy didn't see any way he'd be able to fully recover by then.
If he did at all.
“Let's not worry about that right now, alright, Man? I don't think Buck will care when the wedding is, as long as there is one. Let's focus on that, okay?”
Tommy nodded. Blinked a few times to rid himself of the tears.
A few fell anyway.
“Ed- Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“Do I... Do I still have my legs?”
“You certainly do, Kinard,” Bobby interrupted. Tommy wasn't sure how long the captain had been on his other side. Bobby gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “You've got all your limbs right where they should be. You ready to move now, Kid?”
Tommy could've laughed at the nickname. He'd been called that by Bobby a couple of times, many years ago. It'd been a long while since then.
He nodded. “Ready.”
Eddie didn't let go of his hand as they lifted him and began carrying him to the ambulance. Tommy was a bit surprised. He didn't remember ever being moved onto the spine board. Hadn't felt a thing.
A part of him had wondered if they'd even been working on him during that time. That maybe Eddie was the chosen distraction until he drifted off and his breathing stopped.
He was glad to know he was wrong.
*****
Bobby drove them to the hospital, with Eddie staying in the back beside him. It was a bit cramped with him, Eddie, Chimney, and Hen all back there together, but the fact he was surrounded by these people made him feel a bit more comforted.
Tommy looked over to where his and Eddie's hands were still tightly gripped together. He wasn't sure if Eddie was refusing to let him go, or if he was refusing to let Eddie go. Didn't really matter either way. He needed something to keep him tethered to reality.
He shook his wrist back and forth a few times to get Eddie's attention. “Can you... Can you call Evan? Please?”
“Of course,” Eddie replied, grabbing his phone out of his pocket with his free hand.
“You've got some cuts on your arms, Tommy,” Hen explained as Eddie pressed Buck's name. “We're gonna work on those on the way to the hospital, so you might feel some stings, okay?”
“Yeah. That's okay.”
Eddie put the phone on speaker and Buck answered on the third ring. “What's wrong?”
“Buck-”
“Who is it, Eddie? I just left work an hour ago. Is it Bobby? Hen? Chim?”
Tommy took a deep breath. “B- Baby.”
Silence.
Then.
“Tommy? Is that you?”
“Had a... a little accident.”
“What hospital?”
“The usual,” Eddie replied.
“I'm heading there now.”
“Evan? Evan!” Tommy exclaimed, wanting to get his attention before he got in the car and started to drive.
“I'm here, Tommy,” he answered. “I'm gonna meet you at the hospital.”
“I don't wanna... wanna scare you,” Tommy said, and he could feel the tears burning his eyes again. “I can't. I can't feel my legs.”
“He's stabilized,” Chimney added quickly, before Buck could ask. “Likely a lower spinal cord injury.”
Another pause, followed by a quiet. “Okay. Okay.”
“He's doing well, Buck,” Eddie reassured him. “We're all right here with him. He won't shut up about you, like always.”
Tommy smiled. He hoped Evan did as well.
“Feeling's mutual,” Buck replied. His voice was softer now. Tommy knew the words were meant to keep him focused and thinking positively.
It worked.
“Need you t- to be safe.”
“I will, Baby. I'll drive safe and I'll be at the hospital as soon as I can, okay?”
“Okay. L- Love you.”
“I love you, too. So damn much, T- Tommy.”
Tommy wasn't sure who hung up first, but he could tell by the way Evan's voice wavered at the end that he was probably close to falling apart.
“Thank you,” Tommy said as Eddie put his phone back into his pocket.
“Whatever you need, Bud, I'm here.”
“Just... Just keep ho- holding my hand.”
Eddie nodded, squeezed a little tighter. “I can do that.”
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criminalamnesia · 4 hours
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Traitor part 8
ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE
here it is everyone :)) took me forever but it’s finally here! now I can disappear in peace lol. I’ll proofread everything later, but I hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations. thank you all for the love you’ve given this series. I hope this gives you some closure.
let me know if you want any drabbles from the series <3
thank you again!
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after kyle finally leaves you alone, you slink back against the door, shutting your eyes so tightly stars dot your vision.
it never ends, does it?
apologies. worry. sympathy. pity.
it was in each of their eyes— the one-four-one. each of them trying to mask their pity for you behind sickening sympathy. you were exhausted of that look— not just from them, but from everyone you had walked past or looked at since everything had happened.
you open your eyes, scanning the room. what once had been a haven had become a hell. shattered glass sprinkled the floor near the mirror. clothes were still strewn about. you hadn’t bothered picking up what had been disturbed.
you’d be gone too soon for it to matter.
your phone rings then, the screen lighting up in the dimly lit room. you let the ring tone play for a second longer before you’re moving, reaching for the device on your nightstand.
it’s kate, and you breathe a sigh of relief.
“hello?” you say as you answer the call.
“it’s kate,” comes the woman’s familiar voice through the speaker. “im on my way to base. should be there by tomorrow.”
you startle, eyebrows raising in confusion. “you’re coming here? why?”
you hear her sigh. “we can talk about it tomorrow. I need to meet with john, anyways. two birds, one stone and all that.” she tells you.
“can you at least tell me if the paper work is all set for my transfer?” you ask.
she doesn’t answer for a moment, and then:
“we’ll talk about it tomorrow, sergeant. get some rest. you sound like you need it.”
you hear a click, and then the line goes dead. you furrow your brows as you look down at the phone in your hand.
why on earth would she come all the way here just to talk?
your mind is moving a mile a minute, and suddenly, it clicks.
laswell is coming here to do damage control.
you huff a mirthless laugh, dropping your phone as your hands come up to run through your hair.
you weren’t being reassigned. you were being discharged.
but was it at her insistence, or someone else’s?
you whip around, wrenching open the door and storming down the hall to price’s office. those you pass in the hallway give you bewildered stares, and suddenly you’re aware that you’re still in that damned robe, but you’re on a mission.
and when you start something, you see it through.
you don’t bother knocking as you reach price’s door. instead, you barge into the office, effectively interrupting an argument between price and simon. their voices die off, heads turning to appraise who had barged in.
price’s eyes widen at the sight of you, but simon’s face is as unreadable as always. the door clicks shut behind you, and you stalk towards the two men, your fists clenched as you seethe.
“you motherfuckers,” you hurl the words at them, “you fucking knew. you knew.”
“love, what are you talkin’ about?” price questions, his brows furrowed as he turns to you.
“laswell,” you say, and price’s eyes widen. he knows. and now he knows you know.
“whatever she told you—”
“she didn’t tell me shit,” you huff. “I figured it out. why the fuck else would she come here just to talk? she’s playing fucking babysitter, isn’t she?”
price doesn’t speak. your gaze flits to simon’s.
“I’m sure you were rooting for this outcome, weren’t you? couldn’t finish me off in that fucking room, but hey, this is just as good, isn’t it? sending me back to fucking nothing.”
“this job is my life,” you turn your attention back to the captain. “and you fuckers just can’t stop ruining it, can you?” your voice is raising, and tears prick the corners of your eyes. you’re becoming hysteric.
“all because of a fucking lie!” you’re yelling now, jabbing a finger into the chest of your former captain.
“calm down,” the sound of simon’s rough baritone leads your head to snap toward him. your eyes are wide, fury and terror blazing in them.
and he expects you to let loose. scream and hit and scream some more. but you don’t.
you stand there and you stare at him with those wide eyes. the rest of the room— hell, the world falls away— and it’s just him and you.
like it was on patrol during countless nights, your bare fingers dancing over his gloved hands as you prattled on about a show you liked.
on countless nights curled up in his bed, your back to him, pressed so close he could feel the beat of your heart in his own chest. his arms wrapped around you, one of your fingers lazily tracing the ink on his forearm. no words spoken, yet so much said.
in the field, when you and johnny bicker over comms and he takes your side. when you take a bullet to the shoulder and he holds pressure on it until evac arrives.
when he makes eye contact with you as you pin kyle to the training mat, finally able to overcome his strength. when price tells him you’re the rat and he doesn’t want to believe it.
it’s just him and you. a lieutenant and his sergeant. but it’s more than that.
it’s a deep understanding of this job being your life. of losing everything and everyone you hold dear. of finding family again in this team, and doing whatever it takes to keep that family safe.
and he fully realizes, then, what you have been condemned to.
what they condemned you to.
what he condemned you to.
he breaks from his thoughts as you slam your fist into his jaw.
price’s eyes widen, his feet carrying him forward to intervene, but simon waves him off as he cradles a hand to his jaw.
“let ‘em,” he grunts out, and price looks bewildered, but he nods. he takes a step back, his hands falling to his sides, and he lets you strike again.
“fuck you,” you seethe, and despite your best efforts, your voice cracks. emotion seeps in, and your eyes are wet as you swipe a leg out from under him, forcing him to his knees.
he falls with no grace, knees hitting the concrete floor with a dull thud. you’d cringe if this were any other circumstance.
instead, you deliver another blow, cracking his nose with the force of it. blood sprays out and wets your robe.
“ghost—” price begins from somewhere off to the side, but simon just shakes his head.
“fuck you, simon! fuck you!” you scream at him, and your fists are flying blindly as tears cloud your eyes.
and he just takes the hits. you subconsciously register the sound of the office door squeaking as it opens and quickly closes. price didn’t want to be a bystander any longer, it seems.
but he still didn’t jump in. was it because of ghost’s insistence? or because your captain didn’t want to watch one of his soldiers finally snap?
you finally stop yourself when blood drips from your knuckles. unsurprisingly, they’ve split again. there’s no doubt in your mind that there will be little scars between each of them once they’ve healed.
more to add to the reminder of everything. god, at this point you knew you’d never forget it even if you wanted to. even if you tried to. even if you did for a brief moment, those little white lines— discolored and jagged skin in the place of what should be smooth and unmarred, would be your reminder.
blood pools on the floor, a mix of yours and simon’s. you pay it no mind as you wipe the backs of your hands on your completely ruined robe. good— now you had a great excuse to throw the damned thing away.
you would’ve thrown it away anyways.
you bring your hands to your eyes, wiping away tears that had freed themselves their cage. you see simon clearly then, his face bloodied and yet still beautiful in that way of his. his nose is obviously broken. lacerations above his eye and on his cheekbones.
his eyes are staring back you, the icy blue of them never more intense than now.
you heave in your breaths as you look at him. his split lip cracks further as he opens his mouth.
“done?”
and you don’t have anything left to give, so you nod. then you slump to your knees, down onto his level, and you don’t look away from what you’ve done.
it’s no different than what you did to the doctor, or to countless enemies in the field. but, at the same time, it is different.
because it’s him, and he let you do this. he could have easily stopped you. he’d shown his strength against you numerous times on the sparring mat, picking you up and tossing you around with ease.
and yet he didn’t stop you.
“why?” you ask him, and it’s a loaded question. your voice is a watery tremble, and the word comes out as a whisper, but he doesn’t shy away.
he shrugs. “you needed it.”
he’s focusing on one aspect of the question— on why he let you hit him. you open your mouth to respond, but he surprises you by speaking again.
“least I could do,” he says.
you close your mouth, your chapped lips pressed into a thin line. why is he doing this now? saying this now? what changed?
“is it your fault, then? that I’m being discharged?” you find yourself asking, and you’re not sure if you want to know the answer.
maybe you just want a reason to hate him more.
“no,” he says, and you know he means it.
he never lied to you, regardless of any pain it may have saved. it was one of the things you had loved about him.
he sighs. “I didn’t want you to go.”
that surprises you. simon was never one to freely speak on his feelings. he had opened up to you during your relationship, but it was as if there was always an invisible line he could never cross. never did he utter the complete truth to his thoughts or feelings. and you had accepted that— because that is who he was.
and you would take him with all his walls if it just meant that you could have him.
“I don’t want you to.” he corrects himself.
the room falls silent around you. the part of you that still holds love for him yearns for his embrace at this moment. but you push that side of you down. you will not go crawling back, not after what happened.
“you’ve been an asshole,” you say, and he gives a curt nod.
“probably.” he concedes. “but I wouldn’ take anythin’ back. I told you, I meant what I said.”
“is that supposed to make me feel better?” you ask. god, he has a horrible way with words.
“no,” he tells you. “nothin’ I can say can do that.”
you snort. you fall back on you haunches, your hands in your lap as you look at him.
“I am never going to forgive you,” you tell him, words full of so much hurt.
he nods again. “I know. I don’ blame you. don’ expect you to, neither.”
“but I’m…” he starts, and his lips crease in a frown. “im sorry.”
you just look at him. perhaps you had wanted an apology at one moment in time, but now? now none of it mattered.
“I hope so,” you tell him. you move to stand, and he remains still. he hasn’t moved an inch since you’d finished your assault.
“I hope you feel this way for the rest of your lonely life. I hope that you never forget what you did to me, and I hope that it keeps you up at night. because I can tell you with certainty that I will never forget. and I hope the others remember, too. I hope it tears you all apart from the inside. that it follows you around for the rest of your career.”
you breathe in, then out. “and I hope no one ever gives you the chances I did,” your voice is soft. “because I would never wish what you did to me on the next person you think you love.”
his face conveys no emotion other than the small frown still on his lips. his eyes, so cold, have softened the tiniest bit. you used to love when you could bring out that softness inside of him. when it was just the two of you, your hand in his, his eyes on you.
those memories would suffocate you if you let them. what could’ve been will suffocate you. you refuse to let it.
you turn and stalk towards the door, not bothering to spare him another glance. you open it, stepping out into the hallway, coming face-to-face with the rest of the one-four-one.
their eyes are all wide as they take you in. your bloodied hands and robe. the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. you pull the door shut behind you before you speak.
“i don’t care to speak to kate,” you say to price, your eyes meeting his. “fuck her for not giving me a chance. and fuck you for laying down like a damn dog and not fighting for your fucking team.”
you turn to johnny next. “you shove your sorries up your ass, mactavish. I don’t want your sympathy, and I don’t want your pity. I hope your regret eats you alive.”
finally, kyle. “and you,” you glare at him. “if anyone other than simon should’ve defended me, it should’ve been you. I met you first, kyle. you were my closest friend, my brother. and you turned out to be just another fucking lap dog.”
you shake your head, blinking away hot tears. “I want you to get me temporary housing and a car because that’s the least you owe me, after ruining my life. and I don’t want to hear from any of you ever again. if I do, I guarantee you I will not show you the mercy you think you showed me when you had me tied up in that chair.”
none of them spoke, and you didn’t give them a chance to as you pushed past them, heading back toward your room to change.
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a yellow cab retrieves you from base the next morning before kate arrives. it’s still dark outside when you leave the shelter that had once been home. rain pours down around you, a raging storm hanging overhead as it had all night prior. perhaps it was a reflection of your mood. you liked to think that it was.
you toss your duffle bag into the trunk, shutting it before climbing into the back seat. you hadn’t bothered to pack anything other than a few pairs of clothes you’d recovered from the floor of your room. everything else could be trashed, especially anything the boys had given you.
the driver doesn’t speak— price had given him all the information he needed— and paid him— before he’d fetched you. it seems your final outburst— and beating simon to a pulp— had finally put some urgency in his movements.
none of them had seen you off, per your request. you thought it was the least they could do for you after continuously disrespecting your boundaries.
(unbeknownst to you, simon had watched you leave through a window.)
the driver turned up the music— some pop song you didn’t know the name of— and you slumped in your seat, your head turned toward the window as you watched the rain race down it.
you found yourself drifting off quickly, and you didn’t try to fight it. you’re finally free of that place and the men you thought were your family. free of the anxiety of seeing them around every corner. free of the hate that sparked in your heart every time you heard their voices.
you sleep, and for the first time since before everything, it’s peaceful.
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you wake to the taxi driver talking to you.
“we’re here,” he says, knocking on the glass separating the front and back seats. “can you get out now? I gotta get home. it’s my wife’s birthday.”
you blink the sleep from your eyes, nodding before you even register what he’s saying. “sorry,” you mumble as you fumble with the seat belt.
you slip from the car, your boots splashing in a muddy puddle. you grimace as the murky water seeps in, wetting your socks.
you trudge around to the back of the car, opening the trunk and retrieving your bag. you’ve just shut the trunk and stepped back when the car is driving off, kicking up mud that further dirties your boots and jeans.
you pay it little mind as you look at the small cottage before you.
nestled between some trees, it’s beautiful. a shingled roof. light blue paneled siding. a small front porch with a rocking chair and a bench swing. a beautiful dark blue door.
your favorite flowers live in the flower beds surrounding what you can see of the house. it makes you wonder if its a simple coincidence or if simon or price planned it.
how long have they known that you would have to come here? that you would have no where else to go except for where they put you?
you vowed that this house would just be temporary. you would get away from it as soon as possible, putting the rest of the one-four-one behind you. you didn’t want any of them knowing where to find you.
the rain slows to a sad drizzle. drops prick your skin as you make no effort to avoid puddles, splashing carelessly to the front door. you can hear birds beginning to chirp, slipping out of their hiding places as the sun’s rays begin to illuminate the earth once more.
a new beginning, you think.
you reach a hand toward the door knob, twisting it open and pushing inside. it’s a cozy little place with wood floors and a brick fireplace. it’s furnished, but there’s no personality to it. it clearly hasn’t been somebody’s home.
the door clicks shut behind you as you toe off your boots and drop your duffle by the door. as you nudge your boots out of the way with a foot, you notice an envelope on the floor.
eyebrows scrunched in confusion, you lean down and scoop it up. your name is written on the front in a scrawl you don’t recognize.
who else knows you’re here?
perhaps you’ll need to leave sooner than you thought.
you push your thumb under the seam, ripping it open with little finesse. inside is a typed letter. it’s an offer, you realize. a job offer.
its got an american stamp on it, and its signed by a phillip graves.
a new beginning indeed.
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bombuni · 3 days
Text
contains: mean dom jongho x sub reader, kinda humiliation, kinda voyeurism, name-calling, guys i need him to yell and be mean to me so bad
minors dni
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“You never listen.”
You attempt to scoot closer to Jongho as you kneel in front of him, his cologne still infiltrating your senses and clouding your thoughts. Even as he berates you for being a brat and annoying him to no end, he’s elegant. He holds your head up by your hair to make sure your eyes are focused on him, tugging every time he sees your eyes wander to his lap in front of you.
As much as he complains and punishes you, he likes your brattiness. He thinks it’s fun how you try to win again and again, even though you know exactly how it’ll end every time. With you crying and begging for mercy, asking for whatever punishment he sees fit. Your desperate pleas are so cute to him.
Jongho sighs as if his patience is at an end and lets go do your hair, “Take off my belt.”
You look up at him with a dumb look on your face and he challenges you with a raised brow, “Did you hear me? Take ‘em off, cockslut.”
Your eyes well up with tears at his words, but your hands still ache to grab him and make him feel good. The flurry of emotions is frustrating, “D-don’t call me that…”
He smirks down at you, alluring and intimidating but still your Jongho, “It’s what you are, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been sending me all those videos while I was at work. Cause you’re a cockslut.”
Jongho unbuckles his belt before bringing his pants down. He’s stiff and so fucking picturesque as pre-cum drips down the front of his boxers. The bulge in front of your eyes is already making you soak the carpet below you, but he grabs his cock and starts palming himself, excited by the sight of your pretty eyes leaking tears just for him.
“Shit…you wanna suck this cock, don’t you?”
You nod dumbly, hands twitching and moving towards him. You’re surprised when he tuts at you, bringing you to a stop as he removes his boxers and lets his cock spring free. It’s so pretty and chubby, leaking all over itself and you’re practically salivating at the sight before you.
He grabs his cock, firmly gripping the base before he starts jerking off right in front of you. The pre-cum makes it so easy for his hand to glide over himself as he keeps his hand moving with his eyes focused on you. Jongho grasps your chin, pulling your mouth open roughly and pushing onto your tongue with his thumb. He plans to keep you open and waiting for him.
He grunts through his motions, “You’re gonna sit there until I finish. Then you can show me how bad you want this cock, do you understand?”
Your bratty attitude breaks free at the sound of this, whiny voice calling out, “Jongho, no…”
Jongho drags his hand down to your tit, pulling it out of your tank top and tugging at your nipple as a deep groan reverberates through him, “Shut up. Keep your mouth open.”
You do as you’re told for once, satiated by the feeling of his hand toying with you as you can do nothing but sit there and let him. You enjoy being his little doll, to be used as he pleases. He keeps going, his hand moving faster as you play with your tits for him. Your mouth still hangs open in wait for him.
You know the tell-tale signs and sounds when he reaches his climax, you know everything about Jongho. It’s your job. As his groans become louder and deeper and his hand starts stuttering, you lean down and close your eyes as you feel his cum splatter onto your tongue, the salty taste satiating the smallest of tinges in your stomach. You feel a belonging and a pleasure fill you when he reminds you who you belong to.
Jongho drips his last remnants into your mouth with a flushed face and panting breaths, “You look pretty with my cum in your mouth,” you swallow when he finishes, bringing your tongue out again to show him and he smiles sadistically, “You just look pretty being my slut.”
Jongho leans down to press a kiss to your lips, fighting his tongue inside you to remind you who’s in charge. In case you forgot.
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bom note: hi..im still here.. still thinking about freaky jongho. recently rewatched my fav movie (secretary 2002 pls watch if u want a good version of 50 shades of grey) and got inspired
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harmonysanreads · 3 days
Note
Sooo about the yan! alhaitham having a librarian girlfriend..... I wanna hear your thoughts....
Of The Silence Betwixt Words
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Yandere!Alhaitham x Reader
Cw(s) : Yandere Themes, Intrusive Thoughts, Alhaitham being Alhaitham
「 Words : 1.4k 」 「 Inspired By This Post 」
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The relationship between a librarian and a reader is simple, silent and sufficiently detached ; as such, it does not require an extensive amount of cognition to treat it as anything but that.
At least, that's how it is in the beginning — it always is like this in the beginning. The burgeon of something from seemingly nothing, catapulted to such a monumental deal that one is left questioning : when did it begin? What or who sneaked in the seed and how did it nurture itself to bloom into such an unsightly, fascinating thing?
At one stage, fixation tricks the mind into stuffing that void of inquiries with what it parades as the truth — it has always been there, you simply did not notice.
It is natural for Alhaitham to respect the place that houses such a valuable item, he extends it to the person behind the desk as well. Communication is always easy with them, restricted to a few phrases and maintained due-dates to return borrowed tomes. His own house has an impressive collection as well, but the ambiance of a library is just too intricate to replicate within the four walls of his abode.
In Sumeru, physical books are unfairly ignored, one of the many ironies connoted to its claim to ‘wisdom’. The Scribe has never understood nor agreed to the other scholars' faster and apparently more efficient means of requesting the Akasha to answer their dilemmas.
The Akasha is a useful tool in many instances, that, he won't deny. But there is nothing in that machine that begets more machines that can equate to the intellectual stimulation a physical book, the extra minutes consumed by the search of that book and the librarian that never seems to let him win can provide.
The expanse of the House of Daena directly connects to the load of responsibilities its assigned keeper has to shoulder. Making sure students return the books on time, keeping an eye out for anyone who may want to get silly while annotating the tomes and the periodical shushing of rowdy study groups.
There's the occasional scholar too airy with pride to bend that seeks to challenge your knowledge as well. Unfortunately for them and fortunately for the House of Daena's reputation, you're just the correct person to put them in their places.
It's difficult to decide which one the Scribe wants to commend first : your seemingly monstrous memory or the way you can cite it all without stuttering. Alhaitham was pleased with the fact that most people thought twice before interacting with him, but the way you challenged him and emerged victorious revealed to be quite a hassle on his mind.
“Incorrect. Truly ancient petrified trees usually grow to around one or two miles in height. Check page 19, paragraph 3 of the ninth edition of ‘A Comprehensive Guide to Dragonspine Ruins’ (Kreideprinz et al., XXXX)”
That is not an interaction one can just forget. Intrigued and encouraged with a competitiveness that does not usually make itself apparent, Alhaitham decides to test the extent of your... ‘talent’. The Scribe prefers being frank — he was impressed. So much so, that it overpowered whatever bruise was inflicted on his ego.
More and more of these debates ensued, much to his bewilderment. The man who would never stay for an extra minute in his office after work hours, willingly spends time debating with the librarian of the House of Daena. Most of the time you end up winning in them. The Scribe doesn't even process the reason that he has let you win deliberately a few times was because he found the smile that followed it... pleasant.
Then, bringing a rude end to his little guilty pleasure, the news of your expertise spreads. Scholars from all Darshans come to you to check the accuracy of the rumors during the precious free-time he's been the sole occupant of until that moment. Because of your exposure to many new personalities, it appears as though his had dulled in your eyes.
He gets it, one would naturally be more drawn towards a splatter of color than the monochrome wall it decorates. The same wall also has to make sure the bricks don't fall off from their places. So, he decides to leave you to your devices.
...Except, that plan screeches to a halt when he sits down to sift through applications, his treacherous mind conjures phantoms of your smile directed to people not him, which grips onto his heart and squeezes.
Rejected, rejected, rejected — he tosses every file and application to the trash without blinking once that day. Only when he's done that, does the haze recede and he's staring at the floors in profound confusion. The abruptness of that reaction stuns him so much that he rushes to the Bimarstan for a thorough check-up, the doctor's repeated reassurance that he's fine and healthy does nothing to quell the waves of thoughts spiraling in his head.
Thanks to that, he knows now there is nothing wrong with him physically, but something has definitely happened to his mental wiring and the impact of that change leaves the wellbeing of his physical state to question as well.
Break down, look for the cause, reorganize and form a branch of conclusions — that is the pattern Alhaitham has always followed when presented with a problem. A tiny part of him entices him to jump to more reckless means ; no need to think, just drag them away from the commotion and grovel at their feet so that they'll spare attention to your pathetic existence ! But the greater part of his conscious mind, fueled by rationale, is, understandably appalled by these thoughts. In the end, he circles back to his traditional methods.
Alhaitham has always been cautious, so he quickly crosses out the prospect of confiding with someone else about these urges he's been having. He'd usually consult a book for help, but Sumeru housed no records even alluding to his condition. It's only during a stroll through the Grand Bazaar, a passing glance to the act played upon the center stage, does he finally gain a clue.
“Scrambled thoughts, erratic heartbeats and restless state of being? These could be the prelude to a greater illness! Or, a far, far gigantic sickness may have grasped your soul — love.”
Those were the words that managed to sneak in through the confines of his earpieces, rooting him to his place in the midst of the crowd. At that point, he had been exasperated. Of all things, that is what describes his predicament best? A lead is still a lead though, so he conducts further research on the matter and to no one's surprise, the more he digs, the more it makes sense.
The Sages always advise against vain pursuits involving emotions, it's clear more than ever to Alhaitham exactly why. He doesn't outright reject the notion though, research on this field is scarce in the Nation of Scholars. The available ones only scratch the surface ; there is an ocean beneath the thin ice and the itch of unraveling those depths appears to be too insistent to ignore.
But the centerpiece of his experiment was still missing, prancing around carelessly. If only he could somehow, in some way, at an auspicious moment manage to steal you away from the barrier of that desk — he halts his thoughts with a deep inhale. Surely there are more efficient approaches, he only needs to think.
He's heard that gifts and flowers can soften hearts, perhaps that should be his next course of action. His paycheck is more than enough to cover the expenses for a few continuous months and while he's at it, why not buy that incense capable of dulling people's senses which just so happens to work best with flowers? When you're off-guard he could easily — no, no, no, this isn't working.
In fact, regardless of how many other ways he comes up with, it always circles back to his initial thought. It would be so easy for him as well, certainly less time-consuming than whatever gift-giving and compliment showering the Inazuman light novels are preaching. He's stealthy enough to evade the Matra and his status could tie lose ends. Yes, the advantages of this route outweigh the set-backs in comparison to everything else.
So he refreshes his mind, there is a connection between everything ; it's common knowledge that the librarian of House of Daena will personally rescue overdue books. That record hasn't yet been broken, regardless of whether they had to traverse to the deepest part of the rainforest or some abstruse corner of the desert — the weakest link identified.
He will run countless simulations in his mind, calculating the time and possible day you'll come knocking at his door ; by then, the causal factors will be dealt with.
And everything else will resolve itself.
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rafey-baby · 2 days
Text
hidden 3
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cw: outlaw!rafe being his usual self, hostage situation, mentions of murder, pogue!reader having some sexual awakenings & some backstory on rafe
wc: 2.3k
hope u enjoy xx
part 1 part 2
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
The following morning, her eyes groggily open in her own bed; covers tucked over her shoulders and head comfortably propped up by her pillow. She finds herself perplexed, doesn’t know how she ended up here since her last coherent memory from last night is sitting on the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck and letting her heavy lids close for what was originally supposed to be a few minutes.  
Her sock-clad feet pad over to the living room where Rafe is rummaging through some of his papers and whatnot; appearing as busy as ever.  
”Why don’t I remember coming home last night?” She stops to stand next to him. 
”Cause you sleep like a fucking rock. Had to carry you to your room,” he sounds disinterested, not even bothering to lift his head from the piece of paper he’s pinching between his fingers. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be some sort of a contract; letters unfortunately too tiny for her to be able to read from where she’s standing. 
“Oh. Thanks?”
Instead of leaving her passed out in his car like she would’ve assumed, he tucked her into bed? Maybe he owns a heart, after all.  
“It’s whatever,” he dismisses her while reading something over; seemingly deep in thought.  
“Do you— do you need help with that?” 
“Nah, I’m good,” his hand lifts up to scratch at the back of his head before he scribbles something down.
”Right…” she trails off, apparently rooted in her spot and unable to move.  
”Did you want something or what?” His tone is suddenly exasperated, eyes finally flickering up to peer into hers along with his brows raising expectantly.  
”No, I just…are we going somewhere today?” She can’t help but feel a little out of place in her own home with him there; almost as if she’s waiting for his next command to know what to do next. It makes something peculiar swim in the pits of her stomach.  
”Nah, just have to go over these. Can you, I don’t know, go to your room or something? You’re bothering me with your staring,” he grumbles and shifts into a more comfortable position on the couch; not sparing her another ounce of attention.  
”Okay,” she mumbles, a frown taking over her visage.  
Honestly, she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to do now. Normally, she’d go to work at the surf shop near the beach but since Rafe so kindly took her phone and texted everyone in her contacts about a family emergency that would take some days to sort through, she can’t exactly do that. And besides work…well, she doesn’t really have much else going on in her life. It’s sad, really, how a literal criminal forcing his way into her house is the most exciting thing to happen to her in the past few years.  
All things considered though, she doesn’t mind living a quiet life in the Cut, just sometimes wishes she didn’t feel so…lonely. And don’t get her wrong, she has friends, she just sometimes yearns for something deeper than fun boat adventures or getting high with her feet dangling over the dock while a tangerine-colored sunset paints over the horizon.  
She’s always had this dream of traveling around the world or simply just somewhere that wasn’t the Outer Banks but her parents never had the money for it. Therefore, she settled and learned to earn a living by herself in order to keep a roof over her head.  
And she’s been content with her simple life, even considers herself to be happy but then she sat on Rafe’s lap and at the realization of him getting hard from her unconscious rubbing against him felt butterflies in her belly, maybe for the first time in her life. It was something she thought only happened in movies yet there they were; their fluttering wings poking at her core like some vicious reminder that she hadn’t let someone make her feel good in ages.  
Truth be told, she grew tired of guys not being able to make her come because they didn’t understand her needs; didn’t even bother to find them out which is why she sort of lost hope for the whole thing altogether. But then Rafe steps inside her home uninvited and is nothing but mean to her and suddenly she...
It's wrong.
It doesn't make any sense yet she still can't help but feel a certain pull towards him whenever he's close. And she doesn't like it one bit; wants to forget about it as quickly as the thought breaches her mind.
It's far too complex for her perplexed mind to grasp onto, which is why she confuses it for insanity; simply decides that she’s going crazy. And maybe she is, because why else would she suddenly care for Rafe? Why is a hidden part of her heart beginning to harbor gooey, fond feelings for a killer who’s technically holding her hostage? 
She’s sure her muddled brain is going to explode if she thinks about the matter any longer; instead opting to take a long, scalding shower due to the clothes she’s been wearing since yesterday starting to stick to her sweaty skin and making her feel even filthier than she already does. 
Unfortunately, the steaming water doesn't quite wash away the ache between her thighs.
She’s in the middle of pulling a shirt over the damp strands of her hair when harsh knuckles rap against her bedroom door and Rafe enters a second later; not even bothering to wait for a response.  
”Change of plans—” his words die down on his tongue when he notices her current state.  
”Rafe, what the fuck?” She quickly adjusts the hem over her waist, painfully aware of the fact that she’s not wearing any pants and his eyes are now fixed on the lace of her panties practically on show for him. 
”Why are you just barging into my room like that? I could’ve been naked!” She complains before snatching a pair of shorts off her floor; tugging them over her hips.  
”Shit, wouldn’t have minded if you were. Got a nice ass for a Pogue,” he shrugs while sporting an irritating smirk that makes her glare at him.  
”And you’ve got no manners for a Kook. Except, I’m not surprised,” she rolls her eyes when he feigns shock; exaggeratedly dropping his jaw.
”Puppy’s getting angry, huh? Where’s this attitude coming from? Thought you were still scared of me?” He belittles her with a condescending tinge in his laugh. 
And she’s about to respond when out of the blue the ring of her doorbell reverberates around the house.  
They both tense.  
“You’re expecting someone?” His tone turns bleak, frigid; inducing shivers to litter across her arms as her head turns towards the source of the sound.  
”N— no. I’m not,” she stutters because truthfully, she doesn’t have a clue as to who could be at her door in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday.  
”Did you fucking call someone?” He takes a threatening step towards her and she panics.   
”No! I promise, I didn’t. I don’t even— you literally have my phone, remember?” She tries to fruitlessly defend herself.  
”I swear, if you’re lying right now—”  
”I’m not, okay? I didn’t call anyone!” She reassures once more, although it seems like he’s not even listening anymore. Therefore, she tries to be logical. ”I should— I should go and see who it is, right?” 
The icebound water in his eyes bores into her as he weighs out his options. 
”Right, right. Yeah, you should do that," he finally settles on. "But if you even consider telling them anything, I swear I’m gonna fucking find you, you understand?” He grits out into her face and she flinches when she can feel his harsh breaths hit her mouth with each syllable.  
She quickly nods before teetering towards the entrance of her home and twisting the lock with precarious fingers.
Soon, she’s standing in front of two men wearing police uniforms. 
”Oh, sorry for the wait. Was um…in the bathroom. How can I— uh, help you?” She tries to appear unfazed; inhaling slowly and doing everything she can in order to not look as guilty as she feels. 
”We apologize for the inconvenience but we’ve been assigned to ask around the island in order to locate a criminal who’s potentially a threat to our entire community,” one of them says and she thinks his jaded eyes are peering into her soul and seeing right through her rickety facade. 
”Have you seen this man recently?” The other guy dangles a picture of Rafe in the air. She takes a moment to properly look at the photo as to not answer too quickly.  
“N— no, sorry. Can’t say I have. Why? Who is that?” She bats her lashes in confusion as her poor heart thuds in her ribcage. She wonders if they can hear it. 
”This is Rafe Cameron. You might’ve heard about Cameron Development? He became the owner after his father’s death a few years back. And now we have reason to believe that he’s the main suspect for the murder of a fellow officer,” he states with a serious expression. 
”Oh, that’s…that’s terrible,” her eyes widen in shock because she had no idea Rafe was a Cameron. Of course, she’d heard everyone talking about what had happened with Ward Cameron and the rumors surrounding the gold but she’d never cared enough to dig through for more information about the rest of his family.  
”Seems like the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree considering what Ward did to Sheriff Peterkin,” the one with the piercing stare snickers and her brows furrow because she doesn’t think the topic is all that hilarious.  
”I remember watching that in the news when it was all happening. Didn’t you guys also arrest an innocent Pogue with no actual proof?” Her question is sharp because the whole case still itches her in the wrong way. 
”That was— listen, I wasn’t even here back then, it was all very tragic. But the investigation on this case is still ongoing and we have a reliable witness claiming they saw Rafe dragging something heavy near the ocean the night before we found the body washed up on the shore. And according to multiple sources Rafe was the last person seen with our coworker at the island club a few hours prior to his death,” the guy explains and she momentarily wonders if they’re even allowed to share this much classified information with her.  
”Right. Well, I really wish I could help you but I unfortunately haven’t seen him,” her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek and she wonders if they can tell that she’s lying. 
“At this point, it seems like no one has. We’re suspecting that he might’ve fled the country. Anyway, we’ve got orders to search every house but honestly, we don’t think he’d be on this side of the island. So, we’re not gonna waste our time on that. Call this number if you notice anything out of the ordinary, though?”  
”Yes, of course. I really wish there was more I could do to help. Hope you guys find him soon,” she offers them a tight smile.  
”We’ll do our best,” they assure her before the door finally closes.  
Her back slides down against the wood as her labored breathing begins to slow down. She closes her eyes in a moment of relief until she feels Rafe’s presence interfering with her peace.  
”Who knew you were such a good liar? Shouldn’t believe everything you say too easily then, should I?” His gaze travels down her form and he genuinely seems impressed.  
”You killed a cop?” She decides to ignore his teasing. 
”Relax. He was a sleazy bastard who was helping me with some side business and became too greedy. What can I say? Don’t like being used. But believe me, he was not a good person,” he answers her question, maybe for the first time ever. 
”Right, right,” she tries her very best to understand where he’s coming from but she doesn’t think she’s ever going to be able to justify ending someone’s life with such indifference. In her opinion, he doesn’t have the right to decide whether someone gets to live or not; no matter how good or bad of a person they are. 
”Listen, I didn’t mean to do it, it just…happened, okay?” He tries to explain himself and he almost sounds vulnerable. She nearly feels bad for him.  
”You know, I could go to jail for helping you!” She snaps when frustration bubbles to the surface instead.  
”Calm down, Pup. You’re not going to jail, alright? And watch that fucking tone, yeah?” His hands rest on his head as he begins to pace around the hallway.  
”I just— cops don’t care about Pogues. If they find out I lied to them they’re gonna put me behind bars cause unlike you, I don’t have the money to bail myself out,” she tries to pointlessly reason with him.  
”Already told you, nothing’s gonna happen to you, okay? Now can you shut the fuck up so I can think?” He demands, halting his movements.  
”Did they, uh, tell you anything?” He speaks up again and she tells him everything she remembers from the brief conversation while he mulls over his situation. 
”Right, right. So, they don’t actually have any real proof about me killing the guy? Just speculation,” he confirms.  
”I guess, yeah? But I don’t know if they even know all the details about the case,” she offers in response and can practically hear the wheels turning in his head.  
”They didn’t happen to mention who the witness was?”  
”N— no, why?” Her voice wavers as she swallows around the question. 
He lifts his head to inspect her reaction when he seems to have finally conjured up some sort of a plan to clear his name.  
”Think I’m gonna have to pay him a little visit. And you’re gonna help, aren’t ya?”
She would very much like to find out whatever sin she committed in a past life that weighed so heavily that it made her end up in a position as wretched as this one.
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swiftiethatlovesf1 · 20 hours
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PR disaster
Hey guyss, I hope you enjoy this one-shot. Franco is one of my favourite drivers so it was time that I wrote something for him :)
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From the moment Y/N was hired as Williams' new PR manager, she knew the job wouldn’t be easy, especially with Logan's departure. Managing a driver's exit was never simple, and controlling the public narrative seemed like her biggest concern. However, she quickly realized that her true challenge came in the form of Franco, the young talent who had taken Logan’s place in the team.
Franco wasn’t just an exceptional driver; he was a whirlwind of energy and charisma. For the fans and the press, he was a breath of fresh air, full of charm and wit. But for Y/N, he was a constant source of headaches. Whether he was flirting with journalists, posting cheeky comments on social media, or creating unnecessary drama, it always ended with her cleaning up the mess.
"Y/N, did you see his latest post?" One of her assistants burst into her office, waving a tablet in the air. Another post. Another reckless comment from Franco.
Y/N groaned. Of course, he couldn’t help himself. She had spent the last week trying to reign him in, explaining time and time again that his social media presence needed to be professional, not a flirt-fest with every reporter and fan that interacted with him.
"This needs to stop," she muttered to herself, standing up from her desk. She stormed through the paddock, her frustration building with every step.
When she found Franco lounging near the team garage, chatting up a group of reporters—no surprise there—she called his name sharply.
"Franco. A word." Her tone left no room for argument.
He flashed his signature grin, excusing himself from the conversation and strolling over to her. "Hey, jefa," he said casually, as if nothing was wrong. "What’s up?"
(Hey, boss)
“What’s up?” she repeated, her voice laced with exasperation. “You’re what’s up. I just had to deal with your latest ‘incident’ on social media—again.”
Franco shrugged, leaning against the wall with an easy confidence that only made her more irritated. "Ah, it was just a little fun. People like it when I’m myself."
Y/N crossed her arms. “Flirting with journalists isn’t being yourself, it’s being reckless. You need to tone it down. This is a professional environment, not… whatever you think it is.”
He raised an eyebrow, his playful demeanour never faltering. "¿Estás diciendo que no te gusta que sea encantador? No puedo evitarlo si soy irresistible." (¿Are you saying that you don't like that I'm charming? I can't help it if I'm irresistible.)
Y/N frowned, her Spanish rusty but enough to pick up on something. "What?"
Franco grinned wider, sensing an opportunity. "Nada, nada," he said, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. "You know, maybe you should try smiling more. You’re always so… serious." He tilted his head, looking her up and down in a way that made her feel like he was studying her every reaction. "Me gusta más cuando te ríes… tienes una sonrisa preciosa, ¿sabes?" (Nothing, nothing) (I like it better when you laugh … you have a beautiful smile ¿you know?)
Her brow furrowed. Okay, that part she definitely understood, and it only made her more determined to get her point across. “This isn’t about me, Franco. This is about you being impossible to manage.”
He leaned closer, his tone dropping just slightly, enough to make her feel the warmth of his presence. "¿Imposible? No, jefa. Imposible sería si intentaras resistirte a mis encantos. Aunque… lo estás haciendo muy bien." (¿Impossible? No, boss. Impossible would be if you tried to resist my charm. Even… if you are doing it well)
She blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. “What did you just say?”
Franco simply smiled, his eyes dancing with amusement. “You know, if you want me to be more ‘professional,’ we could… work out an agreement.”
“An agreement?” she asked, wary of where this was going.
He nodded, stepping just a little too close for comfort. “Sí. I’ll behave. No more trouble. But… on one condition.”
Y/N narrowed her eyes. “And what’s that?”
Franco’s grin turned almost predatory, though still playful. “You go on a date with me.”
Her jaw dropped. "A date?"
"Sí, una cita. You know, dinner, maybe some wine… you can lecture me all you want. But I think you’ll find I’m much better behaved when you get to know me… fuera del trabajo." (Yes, a date) (… out of work)
Y/N could feel her face heating up, partly from the absurdity of the situation and partly because Franco’s intense gaze was starting to get to her. “You’re joking.”
Franco tilted his head, eyes sparkling. “¿Parezco que estoy bromeando, jefa?” (¿Does it look like I'm joking, boss?)
Y/N stared at him, her mind racing. There was no way he could be serious. This was just another one of his games, another flirtatious comment that she needed to brush off. But as Franco stood there, grinning like the cat that got the cream, she realized he wasn’t backing down. His eyes were locked on hers, waiting, full of that infuriating confidence.
“Absolutely not,” she snapped, turning on her heel to walk away. But as she took a step, Franco called after her.
"Well, I guess I’ll just keep doing what I’m doing then… Maybe tweet a little something extra for the fans later."
She froze, clenching her fists at her sides. This man was impossible. She could already picture the chaos his next social media stunt would cause. The endless calls, the damage control, the headaches…
Y/N spun back around to face him. “Fine,” she blurted out, her voice filled with frustration. “You want a date? You’ll get your stupid date. But only if you promise—promise—to behave.”
Franco’s grin widened, looking almost triumphant. "¡Perfecto! I knew you couldn’t resist." (¡Perfect!)
She narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms. “This isn’t about ‘resisting,’ it’s about making sure you don’t ruin the team’s reputation. One dinner, and you tone it all down.”
Franco nodded, still smiling like she’d just handed him the world on a silver platter. "You won’t regret it, jefa. I’ll be a perfect gentleman." (boss)
Y/N scoffed, turning away once more. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”
As she began walking back to her office, she could hear Franco’s voice calling after her, his tone teasing and undeniably smug. "No te preocupes, jefa. I’ll be on my best behaviour… unless you want me to misbehave a little." (Don't worry boss.)
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small, almost begrudging smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. Franco was trouble, and she knew it. But for some reason, as infuriating as he was, she couldn’t help but feel a spark of something… interesting.
Grumpy or not, she’d agreed to the date. And she had a feeling this was only the beginning of whatever madness Franco had in store for her.
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Hi can u please write about domestic life with Bills Eric Draven? Can there be fluffy and smutty moments? Tyyyy
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Boy can I??? I’d be DELIGHTED. His domesticity is all I think about. He’s the sweetest, kindest and most loving bf and you can’t change my mind. I got a little carried away! Hopefully this is what you were wanting! Enjoy doll!
Bf!Eric x gf!reader. Explicit sexual content under the cut, minors dni, oral (f receiving), p in v. brief mentions of drug use, mostly fluffy relationship stuff
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It wasn’t entirely easy. You and Eric. The circumstances under which you met and the nature of the both of you was quite dysfunctional. You were chaos, and he was a mess. But it worked. The two of you. You worked perfectly. You weren’t sure what it was, you had never been able to maintain a healthy relationship with anyone. But it was almost like you were meant to be together. If you didn’t believe in the whole soulmates thing, you started to believe it when you met Eric.
He was so unreal, so out of this world. He was always by your side, fingers laced with yours, arm thrown over your shoulder. He always had to be touching you, whether it was something as little as holding your hand, or going as far as putting you in a matting press when he fucked you, because he hated the idea of not being as close to you as possible. He never meant to, he didn’t even know what it was. He just did it one day. Your knees damn near next to your head, your body nearly folded in half as he draped his body over yours. You didn’t even know your body could bend this way. But god this you like it. How deep he could be this way. And you had him so close you could hear his little sounds, his hard breathing and his soft grunts.
He always felt a little bad, manhandling you around like you were nothing. If he wasn’t bending your body in ways you didn’t think were human, he was putting you in a headlock as he took you from behind, one arm draped around your neck from shoulder to shoulder. He just wanted you close, afraid you’d run away. But he sometimes forgot to take it easy on you. You always assured him you were more than happy with him, that he wouldn’t hurt you. Deep down it made you all kinds of earn to know you could arise such passions from him. For someone so morbidly quiet and nonchalant, Eric was very intense and passionate lover.
“It’s okay, baby. I got you. You’re doing so good.” He would tell you, his voice soft and quiet in your ear, grounding you as his cock fucked you into nothing. “I just want to make you feel good, hm? Just want to make you feel good. That’s what you deserve.”
“I don’t deserve this. You’re too good for me.” He would say, his lips on your cheek as quiet moans spilled from your lips. “You’re just so… I can’t believe you’re all mine.” His name falling from your lips would be the end of him. So soft and desperate for him. He didn’t have much experience before you, but now he just can’t get enough of you. He wanted to be all over you at all times it actually upset him when you had to leave or when he did.9
But he was also oh so kind, so gentle and patient with you. He always followed you around like an oversized puppy, quietly listening to whatever tangent you would go on about. You could be cursing up a storm (albeit not directed at him) and he would take it with a straight face and big eyes. And it was often that nothing more but his presence would calm you down, center you.
“How do you do it?” You asked him one day, hot tears staining your face after a day of one stressor after another. Eric had managed to get you on the couch where he silently sat you down on his lap. You almost immediately curled up into his lap, legs tucked under you and your head on his chest. You felt an almost instant sense of relief and peace fill you, and you were sighing deeply, feeling your heart slow its fast beating.
“Do what?” He asked you softly, his fingers massaging your head calmly. You rested your hand on his chest, eyes closed.
“This. You calm me down. I was crying two minutes ago and now I feel… okay.” You felt him shrug under you and when you looked up he had a smile on his face. That smile could make you forget any grief or sadness you might have, because none of it really mattered.
But it wasn’t just him who could bring you peace, you were his, too. His lows weren’t as intense or visible as yours, but when he was at his low, he was at an all time low. He wouldn’t speak, he wouldn’t eat, he would just go about his day like a corpse, eyes dead and empty and his mind elsewhere. You understood he had his issues too, so you tried to be there for him without pushing him. You were more subtle. You’d make him dinner, you’d invite him to watch a movie with you. And you’d tangle up with him on the couch as you all but forced him to eat, and you’d talk to him about your day. But something so small always meant so much to him. He couldn’t help the way he felt, he couldn’t help his negative thoughts that drove him to do drugs in the first place, but having you around to remind him someone in this world loved and cared for him, it made it all a little bit easier.
Eric started to bring you flowers one day. Every week once a week, he could come home with your favorite flowers. He alternated colors. With a sheepish smile he’d stand in the doorway with his hands behind his back. And the way he would look at you when gushed about how pretty they were was like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world, the only one that mattered. And to him you were. Seeing that smile on your face was the only thing he ever wanted to do.
“You like them?” He would ask as if it wasn’t obvious, but he’d do it just to hear you giggle and watch you all but skip to put them in water. “Yeah? I saw them and thought about you.”
He always thought about you. There wasn’t a single waking second where he didn’t. You were good for him. And he knew that. He didn’t need anything else to fill the emptiness in his chest because he had you. You had filled that hole and he made sure you knew that everyday.
Eric had many ways to show his love and devotion for you. He wrote you poems, he drew for you, you had so many sketches you have started to run out of places to hang them, but this one was by far his favorite. He could spend literal hours between your legs. He absolutely loved it. He was absolutely obsessed with it.
“E-Eric.. Please.” You were shaking, sweating, incoherent as his tongue circled on your clit, his long fingers fucking you through your, fourth, fifth? You stopped keeping count. He had been down there for an eternity. He just kept asking for one more, just one more and he’d leave you alone. But it wasn’t enough. He was quite obsessive with the things he wanted.
But he figured he’d have to give you a break eventually. He was also painfully hard.
“I’m sorry baby.” He muttered softly as he crawled up your body, using the back of his hand to wipe the mess you had made, but his plush lips were still bright red and glistening. “You know I get carried away sometimes… You’re just so..”
He would kiss your face, brush your hair, soothe you back into a functioning human being. It wasn’t often that Eric vocalized his thoughts, but in moments like this when he felt safe and comfortable enough to be vulnerable, he would tell you all about how pretty you were, how talented you were, how much he loved you.
Eric was always full of surprises. He was quiet and nonchalant, but he was impulsive. You learned that very quickly.
“Baby?” You heard Eric call out to you as he came into the loft. You sat on the computer as you listened to one of his recordings. He had asked you to help him out since he really wanted to start pursuing his music and art now that he actually had someone that supported him.
With a smile, you took your headphones off and went to greet him, but you immediately frowned when you saw him hold something wrapped up in his hoodie.
“Hey, whatcha got there?” You stood up, approaching him with narrowed eyes as he broke out a smile.
“I’m sorry. I just found it, I just.. I felt bad.” He pulled down his hoodie to reveal a precious little kitten. A black ball of fur coating its little face. Your heart immediately sank and you wanted to cry.
“Oh my god, Eric.” You took the kitten into your hands and your eyes started watering as you hugged it. Eric wasn’t sure what to make of your reaction. Did you hate it? Were you upset?
“No, baby, I’m sorry. I found it outside, it’s kinda cold and it was drinking from a puddle. I didn’t want a car to hit it. We don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, we can take it to a shelter or something.” He started to mumble, a hand coming to rub the back of his head and his lips fell open when he saw a tear fall down your cheek. He approached you, reaching to grab your face. “Please don’t cry.”
“No… No Eric I’m not..” You sniffled, laughing softly through your tears as you leaned into Eric’s chest while still hugging the now purring black ball of fur. “I’m not upset at all. It’s just… I’ve never had my own pet before. And it’s so cute, can we keep it, please? It’d be our little child.”
The way you looked at him with big pleading eyes made him feel so warm, he never thought he’d feel something like this. He smiled, nodding as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“Of course we can keep it. He’s kinda cute, right?” Eric chuckled as he scratched the little one’s head.
“Or she.”
Your little ball of fur wasn’t the only thing you and Eric shared. You got so many matching tattoos it was concerning. Your friends and family had even told you it was odd to get tattoos with a guy you had been dating for only a few months. But it didn’t matter to you. You didn’t know why, but deep down you knew your connection with Eric was out of this world. So what were a couple tattoos? You loved that you had a physical reminder of your connection with him. The feelings deep within your souls were forever marked on your skin, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Truth was, Eric loved tracing each and every one of your tattoos. He traced his fingers over the fine lines, traced the words, he traced his lips over them too. He particularly loved the ones on your back and on your stomach, the ones no one but him could see. They were his little secret.
You matched each other perfectly, in every way.
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andcars · 3 days
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# 𝗙𝟭-𝗕𝗙 ─── GETTING CAUGHT STREET-RACING MASTERLIST . . . REQUEST ME . . . TAGLIST . . . AO3
IT'S NOT LIKE YOU to back down from your boyfriend's talents. you go ahead and start street-racing—you never promised to be good at it. but it is just embarassing for your boyfriend to find you in a police station. ───── MV33 LH44 DR3 GR63
TAGS . . . # gender neutral reader, street-racing, light angst, light couple arguments, all happy and sweet ending TYPE OF FIC . . . # headcanons, imagine LENGTH . . . # 1.4k words (around 300w each driver)
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MAX VERSTAPPEN should be mad, he really should be, but somehow he isn't. He gets the call in the middle of the night and is half-awake as he listens to an officer rattle on how you got arrested—he listened to an officer rattle in italian in the early morning. whatever it is that he just said went one ear and to another.
"i'm sorry?" he sat up, rubbing at his eyes and hear how the officer changed to English. okay, you got arrested for street racing in italy. in fucking italy. he's being asked to go in person to bail you out. in italy. at 3am. okay. fuck.
as much as he doesn’t want someone to wake up to drive the jet, he isn’t so much keen on driving either. max pays the pilot early and double the moment he sees him, feeling really bad.
he should be totally pissed, he should be. but you’re leaning against the bars pouting as you see him. he doesn’t want to be upset at you, but he feels like he should be.
he sighs and pays your bail. you’re still pouting when you see him, not saying a single word. “will you at least tell me you’re sorry?” he asks, trying to get something out of you. it doesn’t work. “schatje (sweetheart), i had to wake up our pilot for this. at least say sorry to him.”
poor guy. when you get let out, the first thing you do is apologize to monsieur garnier. he’s very kind about it. though, max was right, he did have to wake up early. you're not about to be much of a burden to a man like him.
max doesn't stay mad at you either. it's like he's incapable of it off-track. when both of you are dead tired on the bed, he just pets you asleep. “if you want to race, don’t get caught,” he said, only half awake. “and maybe don’t do it too much like me.”
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LEWIS HAMILTON is embarrassed to have gotten the news from social media. it was no more than an hour ago when he checked twitter (he would never call it x) to your arrest. headlines: ‘LEWIS HAMILTON’S LOVER ARRESTED FOR STREET RACING’. the media didn’t even bother to mention your own name.
you bail yourself on your own and come home to an upset lewis. it’s the race weekend, he should be focusing on the race. instead, he can’t stop thinking about your race. one that, of course, you never told him about.
“how long has this been going on?” he asks first.
you shrug, collapsing on the hotel couch. “a few months now.”
“months—“ he gasps into his hands, running them over his head. “and i only found out now?”
you shrug and turn away from him. “it’s my life,” you argue, “and it’s not like i’m the only one with a dirty history in racing.”
you’re bringing up spygate, he knows that. he calms himself before he could say anything hurtful towards you. “i do it in a safe environment—“
“people die during races, lewis”
“—and i play it safe!” lewis has to walk away from this building argument. “baby, i love you, but i don’t think you can compare formula one racing to street-racing. i need you to promise you won’t do this again.”
sure, street-racing is a fun hobby. and you’re still right about formula one racing being just as dangerous. but there’s some things you have to work on in a relationship. finding a middle ground. you sigh, turning to him, “i’ll only race if you can come then.”
he thinks he’s going to have a heart attack.
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DANIEL RICCIARDO wouldn’t say he’s a bad influence. however, it’s not like he’s innocent when it comes to this new hobby of yours either. yeah, he never told you to go ahead and start racing like a madman like he was with max on a redbull. but the message was still the same.
the message, of course, simply being: ‘i always wanted to try street-racing. i bet you’d look good doing it.’
it’s on your third race that you got arrested. you phone him yourself and he arrives in the police station with a worried face. he’s not upset, he’s fucking relieved you’re alive.
he asks the officer what happened and is hit in the gut with the fact that you went street-racing. you don’t even look at him to see the disappointed look on his face. it’s embarrassing. you did this just to look cool in your boyfriend’s eyes and it failed. you thought you had more time to improve.
you’re bailed and you and him walk out. “so…” he trails, voice surprisingly calm, “why’d you get arrested?”
weird question. “street-racing?”
he laughs and you finally look at him. he’s just got this stupid smile on his face as he looks at you. “no, i know you got arrested for street-racing, baby. i just wanna know what did you do to get caught?”
a grunt left you as you remember how it went. “one of those fuckers i race with fucking drove me to the side of the road. almost crashed into the river, but i didn’t. the cops manage to arrest only me.”
“aw,” he places an arm around your shoulder and pats your head. “you think they’ll be scared if an f1 driver were to race with them? i gotta make sure you’re protected somehow.”
there’s really just so many things daniel can surprise you with. you don’t know how he managed to surprise you with this too. “you do know we’re like couple of steps away from a police station, right?”
he shrugs. “it’s unfair if only you can be the one to brag that your lover races.”
“i don’t think you can actually brag to anyone that i illegally race, daniel.” he laughs and already is planning how to keep you safe while you enjoy your dangerous little hobby.
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GEORGE RUSSELL got the news from a fan. a fan. he can't name a more embarassing moment than someone asking him if he approves of his partner's street-racing. you told him you wouldn't be able to make it to the race because you were with your family. you were not, in fact, with your family.
he arrives at the police station and you're walking back and forth in a cell with some of your buddies. he's red faced as he talks to the police officers and pays for your bail. his heart churns a little when he hears that you're also being fined for destruction of public property. holy shit.
"george—" you try to talk to him but he continues to walk in front of you. a sigh leaves you. "come on, george, i'm really sorry."
he doesn't say anything. however, he does open the door for you to get in. you're not one to turn down the littlest bit of mercy from your boyfriend.
it's unclear to you how you're supposed to fix all of this. you didn't think it was that big of a deal! it's that you made a small mistake, and one of the guys got a little bit too competitive. of course, it was never in the plan to make george find out about this little hobby of yours.
it's at home when he finally talks to you. he asks you, "are you okay?"
"yes," you don't pick a fight with him about how he only asks that now. "i'm okay."
"good," he drops his anger quickly as he embraces you. "why didn't you tell me?"
burying your face in his shoulder, you're hesitating to tell him. "i don't know..."
he calls your name and you give in. "it's just that i wanted to be like you, in a way. but i'm too fucking old for karting now, i doubt anyone would take me in."
gently, he pulls you away to caress your face. he looks at you like you've done no wrong, like an utter angel in his eyes. he tells you, "baby, if you wanted to go racing then we could go racing. hell, maybe i could pay someone to give us a circuit for a while and we can go karting ourselves."
"it's not the same—"
"of course it's not the same," he cuts you off. "because it's gonna be you and me. not you and some random people that are probably out for blood. it's you, who loves me. and me, who loves you. we'll both be safe and i can be there to watch you win."
your heart hurts from how much george loves you. a smile comes to you and he immediately kisses your forehead. you tell him, "you'll never let me win."
he laughs, "yeah, i won't."
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🗒 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗟 . . . i am alive ~ anyways. here's a funky little thing. i love the idea of street-racing so bad even though i have no knowledge about it other than drive fast recklessly. also ! i'm opening up a prompt list soon for requests so if you have any ideas for prompts (dialogues and tags), feel free to send it over to my inbox or comment ! ˎˊ˗ ᝰ.
──── 📨 @delululeclerc @coconut-dreamz
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you support me best on tumblr with reblogs and comments ! ── by andcars ⟡
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shiroxichigo · 3 days
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Ichigo gets a lot of shit (typically from outside of the Bleach fandom) for being a character whose wants/goals never change from beginning to end of his series. He always wants to protect people (and even though I could argue that he went from only wanting to protect those close to him to wanting to protect everyone he can, that's not the point I'm making with this post).
I think a lot of people who only give Bleach a passing glance fail to see Ichigo's true character growth. It's not about what his goals are or who he's trying to protect, but rather, it's about how he achieves it.
Ichigo is very self-sacrificing in the first third of Bleach. He believes that if the mission is successful, then it doesn't matter how broken or close to death he gets. The mission, saving Rukia (and hurting/killing as few people in the process), is all that matters.
Then, when a part of himself (his inner hollow) emerges, and says "hey yeah no, I'm not letting you get yourself killed and I'm also not letting you hold back against your enemy", Ichigo immediately rejects it.
It's not until he defeats his inner Hollow that we see Ichigo really dive into a fight with the intent to kill. The problem is, once his Hollow is defeated, he thinks that's it. He's freed himself of that part of him and he can go back to being self-sacrificing.
We see this throughout the Hueco Mundo arc. It's why saving Orihime parallels saving Rukia. Ichigo naively thinks he can suppress a part of himself. He bottles it up until it explodes, coming back to haunt him in his fight with Ulquiorra, etc. He learns that side of himself isn't so easily tucked away, and if he recklessly endangers himself, he could end up endangering his friends too. At his own hand, no less.
Then Ichigo discovers he can commit the ultimate sacrifice. Final Getsuga Tenshou. He can throw away these powers and the parts of himself that he doesn't like, and he can get rid of Aizen all in one go. He's lucky that it worked, but only because Kisuke was there.
Then, once Ichigo is powerless, he learns that's not what he really wants. Life doesn't "go back to normal". The can is open, and there's danger out there beyond just Aizen. And Ichigo can't do anything to stop it unless he gets his powers back.
So he does. Then he cuts down the threat to his friends and family. And he doesn't hesitate this time. Yes, he still has compassion for his enemies (he even goes to the Soul Society to ask for Ginjo's body so he can give him a proper burial), but he's learned not to hold back and he's learned that new threats will appear and he'd rather have the power to face them head on.
So then comes TYBW, and Ichigo is facing battles head-on without hesitation. He goes straight to the "bad guys" with the intention of cutting them down. He learns the truth about who his Inner Hollow is, and he accepts it. He's even willing to accept whatever consequences may come from training in the Royal Palace and becoming stronger. He accepts his power and potential fully, and learns that he has what it takes to protect his loved ones with his strength, and not with a sacrifice.
Ultimately, he heals the part of himself that thinks his life is worth less than other people's. He heals the part of himself that blames himself for not protecting his mother (when he was 9!! Like come on Isshin, put the kid in therapy!! Anyway...) He grows into someone who knows his self worth. And I think, for me at least, that makes him one of my favourite protagonists of all time. Because can't most of us relate to feeling worthless at times? And don't we also wanna overcome that?
Thanks for reading my ramble lmao, I'm sure this could have been more elegantly written but I'm very sleepy and just wanted to get my thoughts out there.
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megalony · 15 hours
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Wait And See
This is a new Jake Seresin imagine, requested by anon, sorry it's taken me so long to get round to this. I hope you will all like it.
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Masterlist
Summary: When Jake's wife finally goes into labour, it's a long and hard few days. But it's all worth it in the end.
Enjoy.
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Jake slumped his signature helmet on his head, letting it slide further down one side of his temple when his chin tucked down into his chest. He focused on doing up the buttons on his beige uniform that made him blend into the background of the base.
His boots thundered against the concrete floor and created an echo once he was out in the open, making his way towards his plane. Once the buttons were aligned, Jake fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeves and rolled them part-way up his arms so they didn't chafe.
He felt a hand pat his back rather forcefully between his shoulders and he glanced to the right as the jolt set his helmet jostling on his head.
"You actually going to play fair today, hangman? Or are you leaving us out to dry?"
He cocked a brow at Phoenix as she patted his back once again before she picked up the pace to hurry ahead of him, Bob trailing along behind her like a shadow.
"Depends what kind of mess you get into up there." He shrugged his shoulders and veered over to the right.
It suited Jake to fly solo. He didn't do well with someone sitting behind him calling out the orders or the locations, he couldn't be doing with Bob in the back of his plane chattering in his ear. Jake understood they needed to work as a team and working in pairs was part of the job, but he was relieved he could always fly solo. He preferred being the one in control and not having to deal with someone sitting behind him chattering through his ear.
The conversations through the earphones was quite sufficient for Jake.
With his helmet finally secured and the strap clipped beneath his chin, he held his breath and climbed up into his plane. Noticing the rest of the Dagger squad aiming for their respective but matching planes.
They were going out on a training exercise. Maverick was, yet again, pushing them as far as he could to make them efficient and ready for whatever mission they were given next. Training kept them sharp and made them all work better as a unit.
Once he was seated, Jake tried to get comfy and found his gloves from his pocket. He shrugged them on and clipped his harness on before he started up the engine. He had done safety checks this morning.
As much as he loved being out on missions and taking the dangerous challenges they were handed, being at the base was much more preferred for him right now. It meant Jake could go home each night and be home with (Y/n). It meant he got to kiss her goodbye in the morning and spend limited days off with her.
And now it ensured that Jake was going to be around when (Y/n) went into labour.
They had both panicked that Jake would be shipped off on a long mission or a tour by the time she reached nine months pregnant. The last thing (Y/n) wanted was to have their baby on her own, and Jake didn't want to miss the birth of his first child. He had missed enough of the scans and (Y/n)'s appointments to make him feel guilty. He couldn't miss the birth too.
"Let's get this show in the air."
Jake checked both engines and the fuel light which he knew would be half full since they all fuelled up yesterday. And he clipped the mouth piece onto one side of his helmet, letting it hang loose for a while. He wasn't up in the air yet, he didn't need the oxygen or the microphone.
All the gear didn't help when the heat down here was scorching hot. They all felt like they were flying under a magnifying glass with the sun rays burning down on them until they were roasted alive.
Jake could feel the excitement building up inside of him when the engine fired up and he could see the rest of the team getting ready to take flight. He was ready to take off and have some fun.
Being up in the air always made Jake feel like he should have been born a bird, or become reincarnated as one. He felt so at peace and in control and automatic once he was up in the air. It was second nature to him.
He turned to the right and gave a thumbs up to Phoenix before he pushed up in his seat as much as the harness would allow. He braced himself on his heels and stretched his arm back behind him, reaching for the roof which he promptly slid across. Enclosing himself in the plane like he was in a time capsule about to jet off into time and space.
He landed back in his seat with a thud and a gloved hand gripped the control stick while he flipped a few switches and got ready to take flight.
"Ready."
"Not clear. Repeat, not clear. Seresin, do not take off yet."
"What? Why?"
A frown found its way onto Jake's features as he paused. He hadn't even moved the plane one inch towards the runway. Why were they telling him to stop? All the squad had been cleared to go out this morning for a flight exercise, they shouldn't be stopping.
And why were they telling Jake to stop? Had they told everyone else to stop too?
He looked out the right window and noticed Phoenix staring directly at him, waiting to see if he would suddenly throw up or climb out the plane. Clearly she hadn't been told to stop, she was assuming there was a problem with Jake.
"What's the problem?" Jake tried again, finding his grip tightening while his other hand curled into a fist and pressed against the side of his jaw, propping his head up.
"Seresin, you're grounded. Your schedule's been wiped, go see Maverick."
"What?" Anger tore through his voice that rose in pitch before he ripped off the mask and tossed it down by his feet. He took the time to switch the engines off, suddenly happy and seething that the plane was still in its bay, not having moved an inch.
The more Jake tried to undo his harness, the more it fought against him until he almost snapped the straps over his shoulders to get himself released. He shoved back the roof and clambered up out of his seat, not daring to look across at Phoenix or Bob. He was pretty sure they had heard the conversation over the radio. They would know he was grounded and he didn't want them staring at him as if he was some kid about to be sent to the principal's office.
When Jake clambered down, he spotted Maverick stood near the hanger doors. He had one hand on his hip and his other hand pinning his phone to his ear.
His boots stomped against the floor that was almost cracking under the pressure. His hands balled into fists that shook at his sides as he strode with determination in his steps until he was stood in front of his boss.
What had he done? Why had Jake been benched? Was he being punished for something?
"What the Hell? I was one minute away from taking off-"
"Then I'm glad I caught you before you got up in the air." Maverick placed a hand on Jake's chest to both cut him off and stop him from getting any closer like he was about to start a flight.
He looked down at his phone, clicking it off before he stuffed it into his pocket and moved both his hands to his hips. His expression didn't look angry, although Jake hadn't really seen Maverick when he was in a mood, not like Bradley had. And he didn't look grave or concerned. His expression was almost neutral, as always.
"Forgive me, Hangman, but I thought you wanted to be informed when your wife went into labour." The sarcasm in Maverick's voice was clear and he rose a brow, cocking one hip to the side.
While Jake's expression went from thunder and lightning to panic and confusion that blistered into realisation. His brows momentairely furrowed before his eyes widened and his mouth parted and let his jaw hang loose.
"My- the baby, the baby's coming now?"
This was the call Jake had been waiting for. He had been unusually calm these last few weeks because (Y/n) kept assuring him she felt fine and didn't feel any different. She didn't think she would have the baby early, and now they were thirty-nine weeks along. Jake was starting to think that they might reach their due date or even get past it with how comfortable the baby seemed, making no effort to be born yet.
But this was the call he wanted. To be told (Y/n) had finally gone into labour and he could go home and be with her and have their baby.
"Yes, now. So off you go, we don't expect you back for a week. Good luck." Maverick pointed over his shoulder and finally let a smile crack across his features.
It wouldn't of hurt to let Jake go on the flying exercise this morning and then tell him once he landed, but Maverick knew him. He knew Jake would want to be told as soon as (Y/n) made the call to them and if that meant stopping him just as he was about to take off, then so be it. Jake wanted to be with (Y/n) from the beginning to the end and hold her hand and keep her calm. So he had to go home.
Jake's fingers tore through his hair and he took a shuddering breath, about to bolt inside before a thought hit him and had him turning on his heels. He looked towards the squad, all lined up and about to take off, except they were watching him to make sure he was alright and see what was happening.
He threw his arms in the air, a wide smile spread across his face and yelled "Baby!" into the air, mouthing correctly to make sure the team could read his lips. Although the ecstatic look on his reddened face and the way he started to pelt inside gave away what he was doing.
He was going to have a baby.
***
(Y/n) leaned forward until her lower back was arched out and her hands were planted down on the bed to prop herself up. She bit down on her lip to swallow down a groan and tried to wait out the sharp pain that tore through her abdomen and around her hips that were aching by now.
When it finally stopped, she opened her eyes and looked down at her phone next to her on the bed. She could feel a sob bubbling up in her throat and her lower lip wobbled.
The contractions were twenty minutes apart. It felt like they were getting further apart rather than closer together. Surely it shouldn't be taking this long? Was this fair? Should this be happening so slowly?
Her back pain had been consistent, but her contractions were still just less than half an hour apart. She thought for sure that it had only been ten minutes since her last contraction. She knew she shouldn't be so het up about timing them, but she wanted them to be closer together. Every contraction made her cry with how slow they were becoming.
She thought when she called the base to let Jake know the contractions were happening that once he got home, things might move a bit faster. She prayed things would take a speedier turn. Jake may as well have stayed at the base, things weren't progressing as steadily as they hoped.
It was starting to get late, but (Y/n) already knew she wasn't going to get any sleep. She was too uncomfortable and the contractions would only wake her up or disrupt her. Keeping busy was what she needed to do.
She wanted the contractions to speed up and for labour to get moving, she didn't want to be stuck waiting around for the pains to hit and for her back to keep seizing up like this. (Y/n) didn't like waiting.
She reached out for the bag in the middle of the bed and launched it off the bed, across the room. They didn't need it yet. They didn't need the hospital bag (Y/n) had packed last month. Her contractions were nowhere near together and her water hadn't broken yet. They wouldn't be at the hospital anytime soon and that thought made tears burn into her face.
"Baby… is it a contraction?" Jake jingled the watch on his wrist, trying to remember when the last contraction was.
He slowly padded across the carpet until he was stood beside her and his teeth sank down into his lower lip when he looked ahead and noticed the hospital bag strewn on the floor.
"We're down a few more minutes then."
"It's not enough! I- I want them to hurry up."
(Y/n) hated to whine but she couldn't help it. At this rate they would still be home tomorrow morning. Jake had a week off for when the baby was born, he was likely to be back at work before she even had the baby if things continued at this slow pace.
A soft smile crept onto Jake's face and he slowly reached out for (Y/n). He looped her arms around his neck and turned her so she was facing him, allowing her to tuck her face into the crook of his neck.
"I know, darlin', but we've got time. They'll be here soon." Their baby was in no rush at the moment and they would just have to wait and see if things would speed up soon. Jake would contact the hospital in a while if nothing happened by morning, but for now they had to bide their time.
He felt how tightly her arms clung to his neck and and each harsh breath that fanned into his shirt tickled his sternum. He smoothed his hand up and down the middle of her back while his right hand cupped the back of her neck and he peppered kisses against the top of her head.
"I'll have no energy left." (Y/n) mumbled into his chest while he started to sway them from side to side.
"Yes you will, baby. You're gonna be just fine, I promise."
(Y/n) wanted labour to go swiftly and easily and have no complications or problems along the way. And (Y/n) wanted to be selfish and wish for the process to speed up. But she knew with it being her first, the chances were higher that it would take a while. She thought she had been prepared for waiting, but it was starting to get tiresome.
"It's late, why don't we sit down." When (Y/n) nodded, Jake carefully nudged her backwards until the back of her knees hit the bed. His hands stayed on her hips and he helped ease her down so she was sat on the edge of the bed but he winced when she groaned.
Her head flopped forward and her hands started to rake up and down her thighs, scratching into her skin as she arched her back out to try and release the tension.
Once she was sat down, Jake kissed the top of her head and moved round her to pick up the bag from the floor. They might not need it right this second, but they would need it soon. He placed it by the bedroom door, ready for when it was time to go.
***
"How you feeling?" Jake's voice was gritty and rough like his throat was made of sandpaper and each word tickled the shell of (Y/n)'s ear and made her shiver.
She felt his hand begin to trace up and down her stomach again and she almost smiled when he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck.
(Y/n) wasn't sure how long they had been laid here like this, but she knew it was long enough to make her legs go numb and make her worry that she wouldn't be able to walk once they finally got up. The pair of them were laid in bed, the tv blurring on in the background. She wasn't sure what film or tv show was playing; she only knew that she had turned the volume down twice in the last hour or so.
It was distracting. (Y/n) hadn't managed more than half an hour or sleep at a time and she knew most of the night, Jake had stayed awake with her. Every now and then she would hear his breathing deepen or he would start to snore lightly, but he soon woke up.
"A bit sick." (Y/n) saw no point in lying to him and pretending she felt fine when really, her stomach was churning and she wasn't sure if she would throw up.
But she took comfort in Jake's hand tracing patterns up and down her stomach while his right arm had gone numb long ago, laid beneath (Y/n)'s neck like an extra pillow.
He wasn't sure what time it was, he just knew it was late.
When (Y/n)'s water finally broke late on into the evening, Jake stupidly thought this might go a bit quicker. But it didn't. (Y/n) had been in labour for over a day now and it was becoming tiresome. She had barely slept at all through the night and Jake was feeling worse and worse for her, wishing he could do something, anything, to speed up the process.
They couldn't go to the hospital until the contractions were ten minutes apart or less and it was taking forever. Every time (Y/n) had a contraction, she would eagerly look at the clock and then feel like bursting into tears when she realised she wasn't close enough yet.
(Y/n) nuzzled her face into the pillow and brought her knees up higher towards her stomach until she was practically curled up into a ball. Her left hand was curled around Jake's wrist beneath the pillow and she hummed when she felt him begin to pepper kisses along her neck.
They had a bowl on the floor ready in case (Y/n) threw up, which she had done twice since this afternoon. Jake wished he could speed this up for her and make her feel a bit more comfortable, but all he could do for the time being was hold her and hope for the best.
He let his hand slide beneath (Y/n)'s shirt to trace his fingers up and down her stomach. It was crazy to think that in just a few hours, he wouldn't be able to do this anymore. He would finally be able to hold his baby in his arms and see what they looked like.
They would finally see whether they had a girl or a boy, if they had blue eyes or brown and see how big they were and be able to hold them.
(Y/n) sank her teeth down into her lower lip but it didn't do anything to hide her groan. She turned her head and meshed her face into the pillow, clenching her hand around Jake's wrist when a contraction hit, not bothering to stop the tears that soaked into the pillow. Her knees pulled up again and she tensed up and tried to wait it out.
She could feel Jake's hand pause along the bottom of her stomach and instead of drawing patterns, he waited for the pain to subside. He tilted his head up to kiss her jaw and moulded his chest against her back as if trying to merge them into one.
"Can we go now?" (Y/n) tried to keep the hurt out of her voice and she tilted her head to the left to look over at Jake. She felt him lean over her shoulder so he was looking down at her and when his eyes glanced at the bedside clock, a soft look washed over his face.
Jake had been the one keeping track of the contractions for the last hour or so because the waiting was really getting to (Y/n). She had given in and decided to just wait until Jake judged it was the right time to go to the hospital.
"Yeah darlin' we can go now. Let's get hope it won't be much longer, hm?"
He ran his hand across his face to try and wake himself up a bit more before he pushed up so he was sitting up on the bed. It was still rather early into the morning, but it felt like the middle of the night with how tired he was and their lack of sleep last night.
He would have to grab a protein bar and a strong coffee to wake him up for the drive down to the hospital.
Finally, they could go now.
***
Closing her eyes, (Y/n) rested her temple on Jake's shoulder, relaxing when she felt his lips press to the top of her head. He slowly swayed the pair of them side to side as if they were in the middle of a dance floor instead of a hospital room. It almost felt like they were back home; Jake was forever pulling her into his embrace and trying to dance. Neither of them were particularly good dancers, but they didn't let that stop them.
And his hands danced up and down her hips, squeezing every now and then like he was reminding her he was still here.
She didn't like this part. Waiting around felt like they were waiting for tomorrow to arrive, something that never happened.
The more she thought about it, the more tears she shed and (Y/n) had already cried enough to last a lifetime. Two and a half days, she had been in labour. They had spent the whole of yesterday here in the hospital, waiting for something to happen but it was as if her body had just been put on pause.
She wasn't fully dilated, her contractions were closer together but nothing else was happening. The baby didn't seem bothered about making an appearance. (Y/n) couldn't wait much longer. She wanted the midwife to do something, she would accept them dragging the baby out at this rate if it would make this process end any sooner.
She didn't know what to do with herself. Sitting on the bed made her feel tense and numb but she didn't have much energy to walk around the room anymore. Standing here, swaying in a dance together with Jake was (Y/n)'s last resort.
But she felt better when she was standing and right now, being held up in Jake's arms like this felt comforting. Her back wasn't aching as much, her mind was cloudy but calm and she could handle the pains better whe she was stood like this. It was very relaxing and almost hypnotising.
"Feeling anything?" Jake mumbled against her hair quietly and closed his eyes as he started to rub his hand up and down her back. His other hand stayed curled around her hip and he smiled into her hair when he felt her fingers push into his biceps. She nuzzled her face into his chest, tickling her nose against him and when she pushed her cheek into his shirt, he grinned down into her hair and squeezed her tight.
It was the same question he had been asking for a while now. Asking if she felt a change or the baby moving or some kind of inclination that things were going to progress now.
"Don't think so." (Y/n) responded quietly, not bothering to open her eyes. She took a deep breath, inhaling his scent as she tried to keep her mind focused but if another contraction didn't hit her soon, (Y/n) was going to throw a tantrum.
Jake was becoming restless. He wanted his baby in his arms, cuddled up into his chest already. He wanted to be sat down cradling his newborn. He wanted to be able to kiss them and look down at them and feel them wriggling in his arms rather than just kicking the palm of his hand. Jake wanted to take them home and see them in their crib and show them off to the dagger squad.
He wanted them in his arms now.
(Y/n) kept her arms loosely locked around Jake's neck as he started to sway them again. It was almost methodical and calming, but (Y/n) didn't want to be calm. She would do jumping jacks, she would run or squat and do anything at all to jostle the baby and make her body move faster.
Jake almost drifted off into his own world until (Y/n) tightened her arms around his neck and pushed her head down into his chest.
He silently looked between her and the door when their midwife walked through with a calming smile and a new set of gloves she was pulling over her wrists.
"T-that was a big one," (Y/n) whimpered as she brushed her thumb up and down the back of Jake's neck, gliding across the short hairs that tickled her skin and provided a small distraction. It was as if she could feel each muscle tearing itself apart and contorting into odd shapes to make room for the baby. It was a horrid feeling.
"Shall we get you on the bed and see how you're doing?" The midwife commented as she walked over to the pair of them.
(Y/n) wasn't sure how she managed to get her legs working, but she realised Jake must have been holding up most of her weight. His arms stayed around her waist even as she turned around and she felt his chest gluing up against her back to help her clamber onto the bed.
"Atta girl. Where'd you want me?" His lips attached to her temple and his thumb grazed across the side of her neck as he waited for her to direct him. He would move and sit anywhere (Y/n) wanted him to.
(Y/n) wanted him as close as she could get him and more so. He had to be right next to her, he had to be touching her somehow. (Y/n) wanted to feel his breaths mingling with hers and his touch on her skin.
(Y/n) didn't say anything, but when she shuffled down a little and leaned her chest forward, she caught Jake's smile change into a smirk out the corner of her eye. As fast as anything, his hands found her shoulders and he clambered onto the bed behind her, being as careful as possible.
He hooked a leg around either side of (Y/n) so she was between his thighs and he shuffled until his chest was merged into her back and his lips could attach to the back of her head.
It felt a little strange to have his legs spread and his body straightened out like this, he was used to being cramped in a plane, not stretched out on a bed like this. But he ignored the dull ache in his hips and focused on curling himself around his wife like a blanket. His elbows pinned her waist and he held his hands out so (Y/n) could grip them as tight as she wanted.
(Y/n) managed a smile when she felt the monitoring sticker attach to her stomach to take the baby's readings. And she tilted her head back until she was leaning on Jake's shoulder. They didn't usually sit like this, but (Y/n) was already loving this position, having him wrapped around her like a blanket.
"I'd say you're fully dilated now. You can begin to push on the next contraction," The midwife stated kindly, seeing the relief on both their faces at finally getting closer to meeting their next baby.
Silence fell over the three of them for a few minutes as they waited for the next contraction to hit. Jake pecked (Y/n)'s temple and squeezed her tight while he relaxed back into the pillows, easing (Y/n) back against his chest to try and make her a bit comfier.
"Here we go." He murmured softly in her ear, nudging his cheek against hers until (Y/n) twisted her head to capture him in a quick, baiting kiss.
Jake felt like he had jinxed them.
More time seemed to pass as they sat there waiting for the pushes to do something, to make a difference, but nothing happened. Jake could see (Y/n)'s energy levels depleting and he could feel her starting to tremble from the adrenaline and exertion, but it wasn't doing her any favours.
The baby wasn't cooperating and the midwife was starting to look uncertain. He could feel the minutes ticking by like seconds and when (Y/n) threw her head back on his shoulder and started to sob, Jake smothered his lips against her temple. He quietly shushed her, holding her tighter as his worried eyes locked with the midwife.
This labour hadn't gone according to the plan Jake and (Y/n) had thought up in their heads. Nothing was working with them; their plan had gone up in the air in a heap of smoke.
"Why i-isn't it working?" (Y/n) huffed, barely able to breathe from all the effort she seemed to be blindly wasting.
Was she even dilated fully? Had it just been a lie to subdue her? Was her body not willing to do this for her? Was the baby moving and playing games?
"Baby doesn't seem to be working with us today. Let's try for a bit longer."
(Y/n)'s jaw locked and Jake could see she wasn't very happy about this, but what other choice did they have?
He tightened his arms around her and let her squeeze his hands to the point his knuckles went white and he couldn't feel his fingers anymore. He didn't care if she broke his hands, as long as it helped and made her feel better.
When the next contraction came, (Y/n) pushed and leaned herself forward, crying out through the pain. But she felt tears welling up in her eyes when the monitor started to flash. The baby's heartbeat had dropped. They were starting to become distressed. She could feel her pulse thudding in her ears and her heart was going faster while her baby's was dropping.
"What’s happening?" Jake pressed a kiss to (Y/n)'s cheek, but the worry was painted across his face. He curled around her like a protective blanket but his eyes remained on the monitor that showed their baby's heartbeat was starting to slow down.
"Baby is a bit stressed, just give them a few moments to calm down." The midwife responded as she watched the monitor showing the baby’s heartbeat and waited for it to pick back up. All of them sighed in utter relief when it started to mellow out and go back to the rhythmic beat it had been a moment ago.
A burning scream tore from the back of (Y/n)'s throat when another contraction burned through her stomach. She tugged on both Jake's hands, pulling him even closer until his chin was perched on her shoulder and he was kissing the junction between her shoulder and neck. And both his hands were pinned into her chest as if they were merging into one person.
"Let's try again."
Jake felt relieved when the baby's heartbeat stayed the same through the next contraction, but he could just tell from (Y/n)'s screams and the trembling in her system that this wasn't working. Her pushes were futile, either her body wasn't agreeing or the baby was becoming difficult.
(Y/n) cried out when another contraction hit and pushed to sit forward with her chin tucked down into her chest and her knees as close to her stomach as she could manage. But her eyes snapped open and she started to shake when the monitor started to pick up again.
Her body burned as she cried, trembling against Jake who tried his best to hold her tighter and keep her calm. Panicking wasn't going to help. (Y/n) sucked in a few trembling breaths but more tears flushed her face when the baby's heartbeat mellowed out again.
She felt another contraction and pushed again without the midwife having to tell her. She would push and push and push until this baby was out. She wasn't doing this forever, no matter what her body seemed to think.
"Please… please," The word passed through (Y/n)'s lips like a mantra but her voice became desperate and drifted into a helpless scream when the midwife patted her thigh.
"(Y/n), honey just stop for a moment." The midwife shuffled closer and reached over to try and press the heel of her hands into (Y/n)'s stomach to assess her. "Baby's moving around-"
"No." Her heels scraped along the bed and she pushed back into Jake, feeling like she wanted to scramble off the bed and twist and writhe around until the baby found their way out on their own.
"This doesn't seem to be working, and baby is getting distressed. You've been in natural labour for near on three days, I think it's time we get doctor to do a C-section."
The midwife patted (Y/n)'s thigh but her eyes locked with Jake when (Y/n) began to sob. She reached up to squeeze (Y/n)'s arm before she got off the bed and pressed the emergency assist button behind the bed. They would need a doctor to approve the operation and then they could swiftly get an epidural in place and start prepping (Y/n).
"No, please…"
Sobs bubbled past (Y/n)'s lips and both her hands pinned Jake's arms to her chest once again. She writhed in his arms, pushing back into him until he squeezed his arms around her and slowly unlatched one hand from her grip so he could trail his hand up and down her bump.
"Shh, darlin' it's okay." He slowly started to sway them from side to side, kissing the side of her head when (Y/n) smothered her face into his bicep and screamed, sending shivers up and down his arm. He could see and feel the way her heels were digging into the mattress and she was pushing back into him, desperate to stop herself from pushing and distressing their baby even more.
Why couldn't she just be finished already? Why wouldn't their baby agree and help instead of twist and cause complications? (Y/n) just wanted this to be over. She couldn't carry on and she wasn't ready to be poked and prodded and cut open.
It would be so much stress and effort to get prepped for surgery and taken down and have all the hassle. And the recovery from a C-section would be worse than recovering from natural labour. But they didn't seem to have a choice.
"Not long now darlin' and we'll have our baby. It'll be over soon, I promise. You just wait and see."
***
Twisting her head to the right, (Y/n) nuzzled her cheek into the pillow and let her weary eyes cast over her husband. She couldn't help the cheesy, tired grin that formed on her lips when she looked at him.
Jake was slouched in the blue hospital chair beside the bed, his legs parted wide like he was trying to spread and crack his hips into place. His knees were pushed towards the edge of the bed and he was half slouching down like he was about to slide onto the floor.
But there in his arms, was their girl. He'd undone the top half of the buttons on his shirt so he could lay their daughter against his chest for skin contact. Her face was nuzzled beneath his collar bone, her arms were curled up against her chest and her legs were scrunched up into her stomach like she thought she was still in the womb and had to be enclosed and packed tight.
Jake had one hand on her bum to stop her from sliding down his chest, and the other hand was softly cradling the back of her head. He was breathing softly into the blushing pink hat on her head and (Y/n) could see that he had fallen asleep like that.
She wasn't sure how long he had been holding her, but she knew it had been a while now.
Jake had been itching to hold her since the moment the C-section was done and the nurses had cleaned her up.
The morphine (Y/n) had been given made her more than drowsy and she had fallen asleep almost as soon as she'd finished her first cuddle with her daughter.
Three exhausting days of labour and all the effort of a C-section had wiped them both out completely.
But Jake looked as calm as ever, laid there with his daughter settled in his arms and it was a sight (Y/n) never wanted to forget.
(Y/n) snuggled down a little more, pulling her knees as close to her stomach as she dared and tugging the cover higher up towards her chest. She was laid on her side, giving her a perfect view of her little family and she stretched her hand out for Jake's phone on the side table.
It had been set to silent for the last three days but she knew the Dagger squad had all been messaging him. Asking how it was going, if they had had the baby yet and if they had any names. His phone had barely stopped buzzing since he got home.
With a grin, she took a few pictures, zooming in to show Jake's lips smothering his daughter's head and the way his thumb kept twitching up and down every now and then.
Opening the group chat, (Y/n) tagged a few of the photos and sent them across to the squad.
*Daddy and Ella. xx
114 notes · View notes
ghostdiva · 2 days
Text
youtube
ok so the new trailer for episode 3 just dropped. big hype. here are some theory's, notes, and observations.
also I took a lot of screenshots...
anyway here we go.
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so the adventure is set to be "The Mystery of Mildenhall Manor". Now, I do think that Caine is gonna be the quest giver this time, sending the gang to find something inside the spooky, probably haunted manor.
small guess is that they gotta find Matilda, one of the ghosts haunting the manor, and trap her in a vacuum. idk why, it's literally just a hunch.
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Jax also takes a moment to harass Pomni with a vacuum, which just makes me think of Luigi's Mansion.
anyway, the gang (minus Zooble) are gonna go in the manor and try to find whatever they're looking for, and either by agreement or random set of events, the gang is gonna split up, Pomni and Kinger being paired up. I don't really know if Ragatha, Gangle, and Jax stick together or not, as they're not really shown much in the trailer.
I am inclined to believe it is a set of events that separates the gang tho.
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it's the one of the reasons I can think of that'd make Pomni climb on the door like that.
I mean... outside of the very spooky decorum.....
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which Pomni has a pretty reasonable reaction to
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btw, I fucking love Pomni's cartoon physics with the squash and stretch rubber-hose animation. it's so expressive and fun to watch.
anyway, it seems Caine is determined to have Zooble go on adventures. so he literally sits them down and tries to therapize them.
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though with Caine being an AI with very little knowledge of how the human mind works, this goes predictably horribly.
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I imagine Zooble tries on some level to convey to Caine the ludicrousness of their situation. stuck in a digital world getting repeatedly traumatized by meaningless adventures that seem to do more harm than good. though I get the feeling Caine would miss the point, leading Zooble to correct him, and/or get upset at him for not understanding. watching this verbal fight happen between these 2 will probably lead to us, the viewer, understanding more about Zooble.
anyway, back to the manor with this cute little guy.
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look at him, he's so cute and squishable. unfortunately this guy is the only cute and squishable NPC here because Pomni and Kinger seems to really be going through it.
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they're mostly poking around, opening drawers and stuff. maybe they're looking for a key to get back with the others or something? who knows.
they both probably stumble around in the dark for a bit, both figuratively and literally.
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they might end up stumbling into an antagonist NPC, which is the only way I can explain some of these screenshots.
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it looks to me like Kinger is facing something. I mean, He's missing an eye in the first one, smacking something with a gun in the second, and looking really worried in the third. Plus the fist 2 have similar lighting so I'm inclined to believe those 2 pics come from clips in close time frames to each other.
there's also another image that has similar lighting...
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now... this may sound weird, but I think that either Pomni got Possessed somehow, or something tried to take her shape. Possession seems more feasible since we know at least 2 of the NPC's in this adventure are ghosts, and at least in media ghosts are known to possess people. seeing as digital circus seems to love pulling from video game mechanics, this wouldn't surprise me at all.
this would also kind of explain why in the "POMNI WAKE UP!! IT'S TIME TO GO ON AN ADVENTURE" video, in the "Kinger with a shotgun" clip, he seems to be hitting Pomni with the gun. it makes a lot more sense if Pomni ends up getting possessed somehow, forcing Kinger to hit her in order to defend himself from the ghost.
this also could tie back to the worried look on Kingers face in the screenshot before Possessed Pomni. Cause he'd know what he has to do, even though he doesn't want to hurt Pomni.
Hell, I'm pretty sure Kinger even openly protects Pomni in this episode.
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because of the shot in the trailer taken from this hole's perspective
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not only is Pomni hiding behind Kinger, but he has one of his hands out in front of her, as if to protect her from whatever is in that hole.
also in regards to guns, Kinger isn't the only one who gets to have a gun.
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Pomni gets to wield a shotgun too, and it's likely to help both herself and Kinger fight off whatever was after them in the hole.
Ghost possession and gun-slinging aside, I do think that Pomni and Kinger have a little heart to heart in this episode.
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boy doesn't that screenshot look familiar. reminds me of episode 2 with the blue lighting and concerned expression on Pomni's face. That scene in the test room where Pomni comforts Gumigoo. this time tho, she's comforting Kinger. it almost makes me wonder if this will be a reoccurring theme, with all the other characters eventually having a heart to heart with Pomni, and Pomni comforting them.
it'd really make her live up to her quote in episode 2 "I guess I just don't want you to feel like you're nothing. I don't want anyone to feel like that".
the only thing I do still have questions about, is wtf is Kinger looking at here?
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I mean, it looks like the eyes of a ghost, if they could make their eyes glow like that.
ya know what, maybe he's looking at a mound of pillows or something.
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yeah, like that.
120 notes · View notes
fanficimagery · 2 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]
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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(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.
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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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herefortheships · 2 days
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One of the biggest reasons I feel like Beetlejuice 3 is needed is that Beetlejuice Beetlejuice felt (to me) like there was no payoff. I'd have to rewatch, but I feel that the only aspects in which Lydia's and Astrid's lives improved comparing the start of the movie to the end, is that Lydia is freed from Rory and Astrid got to see her dad again, all of which was only achieved thanks to Betelgeuse's intervention.
Lydia was not happy at the end of the film, in contrast to the end of the first movie where we see her happy living with the ghosts of the Maitlands (in addition to her actual dad and stepmom). If anything, even though Rory is gone, Lydia is perhaps lonlier and more unhappy than at the start of the film, after the death of Delia and her father Charles. Rory might have been toxic but whatever idea or feeling of support she had from him is now gone too. We don't know if Astrid will still be attending the boarding school or not, so if Lydia truly quit making her show, then she is also more alone than she was at the beginning.
Betelgeuse also did not get rewarded after spending the entire movie working hard to sort of prove himself to Lydia and show her his love was genuine (despite the few scenes where he truly scared and disturbed her [the Beetlebaby for example... ew], but even though I don't excuse him, I also understand that these dark aspects of BJ's personality just come with the package, with him being what he is, it's something he can't help). In the end he was dismissed despite keeping his part of the agreement, as I'm sure he expected he was going to be, based on the song choice and, what many fans have pointed out, how he didn't do anything to stop Lydia from saying his name and sending him away.
What I'm getting at is that, in the end, the movie left a feeling of there being no payoff, even though technically "the good guys won". When there's no payoff, the story feels incomplete and/or empty in the end. At least we had that scene at the end to confirm that Betelgeuse is not truly gone, which left the door open to the possibility of a third and final part to this series. So even though I do like an open ending, in this case it just feels like this movie just set the stage for a continuation.
Maybe not everyone would agree, but it truly feels that with what this movie set up, the ultimate payoff would be for Lydia and Betelgeuse to finally get married and complete each other's stories. I wish the next movie will focus on Lydia, so that her choosing him feels organic and entirely her own choice.
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heyaheiya · 2 days
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Will you write something about single dad bakugo falling in love with his child’s daycare teacher and her or them feeling the same 🥺🥺 -🦕
Sorry this took so long 😭😭
— — — — — —
Katsuki didn’t plan on ever getting into a relationship again; just him and his darling daughter was enough for him. That was until your stupid face somehow wormed its way into his mind.
His girl, Bakugou Chiyo, had been going to daycare for a few months now, but he’d never met you officially.
As much as Mitsuki loved having the little one over most weekdays, she didn’t have all the time in the world to spend babysitting. Eijirou encouraged Katsuki to enroll Chiyo and had recommended the daycare he used for his kids. Despite Katsuki’s hesitation towards it, Eijirou wouldn’t stop pestering the man to give it a chance. Something about ‘socialisation’ or whatever. Still, Katsuki put up a good fight.
“Fuck no, you know how disgusting other people’s kids are?? I don’t want Chiyo catching rabies from those things.”
“It’s expensive, I’m not exactly rich right now you know!”
“How do I know those teachers are qualified?”
“I’m sure Chiyo’s gonna hate it so what’s the bother.”
Unfortunately, Chiyo loved it, waking up early and being pretty self sufficient for a 4 and a half year old. She even packed her bag herself before bed so it was ready the next morning. Yes it was filled with just stuffed animals, and what.
“Baby, do you seriously need all of your friends? Why not pick one?”
“But they’ll be lonely :(“
Katsuki had to write out a whole schedule of which plush goes to daycare on which day. This rotation made sure the toys all got an equal amount of days.
Chiyo had been getting chattier in the recent days. Perhaps shitty hair was right about the socialisation bit… However, at dinner that night, a new name kept coming up.
“-and I was really sad. But then, Smiley came over and made it better!”
“Who’s ’Smiley’, princess?”
“Silly daddy, you see her every day at pickup!”
That was helpful. One out of the army of children he has no time to notice.
“Tell me about Smiley. She nice to you?”
“Mhm! Today she secretly gave me a chocolate from the teacher desk :D”
Alarms went off in Katsuki’s head. Chiyo’s friends with a thief. Chiyo’s gonna turn into a criminal. Chiyo’s gonna get arrested in the future. Chiyo needs to stop being friends with this ‘Smiley’ kid!!
“What??”
“Yeah. She told me not to tell anyone or she’ll get in trouble… But you won’t tell, right daddy l?”
The next day and drop off, Katsuki stomped in, all geared up in his hero suit, with a massive scowl decorating his face. Usually Mitsuki and Masaru drop the sweetheart off in the mornings, and by the end of a long work day, Katsuki doesn’t have time to chat. So other parents and teachers had basically never had a proper conversation with the man. That sure was gonna change.
“Who is this ‘Smiley’ kid??”
The receptionist looked befuddled.
“Oh no.. what did she do?”
“Nunya goddamn business. Point me to ‘er”
A shaken older hand pointed towards a young and surprisingly pretty face across the room. Must be the kids mother.
Katsuki stomped his way over to the woman. Either she shrunk back in fear of the pro hero, or his anger made him grow a few inches.
“Oi! Who do you think you are? Letting your kids behave like that? I swear, don’t give me some shi- stupid excuse!”
“I’m so sorry! Has someone been picking on Chi-Chi?”
“Chi-Chi? Seriously nicknaming a kid that doesn’t belong to you? That’s so fuc- freaking creepy.”
Chiyo yanked at her father’s pant leg a bit.
“Don’t yell at Smiley like that >:(“
Huh. Smiley.. is the teacher. Oh. A normal person would instantly apologise, but Katsuki? Pro hero Dynamight?
“What kind of relationship do you have with my daughter??”
He made you look like a child predator in front of your entire classroom, their parents, and your boss +coworkers..To say he felt bad was an understatement, the look of your terrified and embarrassed face scarring his mind for days.
Then, Chiyo came home balling her eyes out.
“Miss Smiley wasn’t there! She left me!”
Fuck. He knew what he had to do.
+81 XXX XXX XXX: Meet me at the restaurant down the street in 10.
Y/N: What the freak
When he saw you walk in, his jaw dropped. Unfortunately, you were beautiful, like the girls on the covers of magazines. However, your cute and almost squishable face quickly turned to a glare, eyes shooting lasers through his face.
It’s silent for a long time.
“This is the part where you apologise for getting me fired.”
“Right, I’m really sorry.”
“Look, I love Chiyo so so much. She’s a good kid and I’m sure you can tell she’s grown an attachment to me. If it’s because you or her mother feels jealous-“
“I’m single, the mother is out of the picture.”
“Oh so you just felt like being a dick?”
“Mind your language, Sensei. Wouldn’t want any kids to develop a fowl tongue.”
“I’m the reason Chiyo doesn’t have some of your key vocabulary. Watch it, Dynamight.”
“Oh I’m so scared😒”
You instantly stood up and grabbed your purse. “If you’re just here to rub salt in the wound, I think we’re done.” Fuck. Katsuki yanked you back down into your seat, eyes begging.
“No, fuck- I can’t stop fucking this up. Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Wanna add another f-bomb to that statement?”
“Fuck off.”
“There we go.”
Katsuki groaned to himself, wanting to kill himself right there and then.
“I came here to apologise and fix things, but I’m stupid and can’t fucking communicate!”
“There are other swear words y’know?”
“Take me seriously.”
Your face softened slightly. You seriously thought he might cry in the middle of some random ramen restaurant.
“How do I fix this??”
“Well..”
You didn’t ask for too much really. Shopping spree (clothes, jewellery, cosmetics, skincare, shoes, hair pins, the works), official apology to everyone who was in the room at the time, get job back, and a bunch of tiramisu.
After all that, you were nothing but smiles. Then it clicked. Always smiling. Miss Smiley. Damn, that was a lazy nickname.
“Chiyo was the one who came up with ‘Miss Smiley’.”
It’s the best goddamn nickname anyone has ever made.
“Is there anything else you wanna add to that long ass list of yers???”
“Perchance..”
“Well??”
“A second date?”
— — — — — — — — — — —
This is not my best, I’m sorry 😭😭 hope you enjoyed! And requests are still open. Please, I need inspiration 🙏🙏
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adayumantium · 1 day
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HEYO!! I AM LITERALLY IN LOVE WITH YOU AND YOUR WORK, sorry that i’m yelling 😔 IM JUST SO EXCITED 🤩🤩
okay anyways umm i was listening to ariana grandes unreleased song ‘fantasize’ and i just imagined logan 😩 yk what i meannn? 😮‍💨 anyways do you think that possibly, maybe, you could make a fic that was inspired by it 😣
please, i love you muah 😍
- 🎶
Fantasize
Logan x gn! Reader 
a/n: this ended up being angsty and I am a little bit sorry,,,,if you WANT maybe ill do a happier part where we actually GIVE IT TO HIM 9 to 5, 5 to 9 yk..... banner by moosgraphics
Summary: when the guy you want is smitten with someone else, you're left to fantasize
W/C: 400ish
tags/warnings: gender neutral reader, jealous reader, pining and longing, crazy levels of Jean hating i won't lie, a little suggestive, a little bit angsty and too real if ur in love with a fictional character….
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You definitely need something stronger. Your fingernails tap the neck of a cold soda bottle, desperate to keep your mind occupied. What does Logan see in her? Yes, Jean is gorgeous. Smart, and suave. She is also taken. You’ve watched her string Logan along, letting him fall in love with her. Scott is so devoted to her, too. There’s nothing to like about her, especially the way she’s wrapped Logan around her pinky finger. 
Now, you watch the two of them laugh, magnetized by each other's lips as they take swigs of their bottles. Your knees buckle seeing Logan’s gaze linger on the rim, Jean’s lipstick left behind. With a roll of your eyes, you go to find somewhere else to sit so that you don’t have to endure their display. Plopping on the couch, you hope that root beer can drown sorrows just as effectively.
Ping! 
Your phone goes off, and you check it hesitantly- the only person you want to hear from is glued to someone else. 
Dan (bar trivia): hey! I had a really good time the other night. Do you want to-
You shut off your cell with a groan, not even gracing the rest of the text with a read. Guys like Dan are the problem, kind and considerate and totally into you.
You want raunchy, rough, and unavailable. 
You want Logan. 
You decide to retire for the night, exchanging courteous goodbyes to the people around you; shooting a glance toward Logan, you’re not even sure he notices, so entranced by Jean's facade. 
Your mind starts to wander, as it often did watching him do menial tasks around the mansion. You would give him anything. Everything. You’d let his hands do whatever they wanted, let his mouth go wherever it pleased. He had to know how desperate you were for him. 
Crawling under your sheets, you’re consumed by the desire to kiss him goodnight, drawing circles on the sprawling canvas that was his back. You would wake up next to him, his hips pressed against your ass and the pillows smelling like sandalwood. 
It’s just not real.
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