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archangeldyke-all · 9 months ago

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Any ideas for Sevika boxer AU? Reader being her manager and both of them catching feelings for each other… 👀

EEEEK your drawings are just 🥰😍🌷💖 i'm gonna make this part of the little PT reader/ boxer sev story i've got going on, (part 1 here, part 2 here!)

men and minors dni

"quit lookin' at me like that." you chuckle.

sevika's smirk only grows, and she wraps her arm around your shoulders and pulls you toward her.

ahead of the two of you, silco's ranting into the phone about something. vander's behind you, mumbling strategies into sevika's ear. she's supposed to be focusing. your whole little posse is escorting her to the ring for the biggest fight of her life-- this is the time for her to pay attention.

this is not the time for her to be flirting.

this doesn't stop her, though. "you look good, you're my girl, how am i supposed to be lookin' at you?" she asks. you roll your eyes and gently elbow her. she grunts dramatically-- like she's not about to get the shit kicked out of her by a professional fighter.

"you're supposed to be focusing. i need you paying attention tonight-- need you to promise me you'll go easy on your shoulder." you say. sevika huffs and rolls her eyes like she always does, then she presses a kiss to your head.

"will you stop worrying?" she asks. you chuckle and shake your head no. sevika snorts. "i'll be fine. i've been training for months. i'm gonna go out there, kick some ass, and win."

"damn right you are." vander grunts behind you.

you shake your head. "and what makes you so sure?"

sevika shrugs and kisses your temple. "just gotta good feeling." she whispers.

five rounds, five minutes each.

with a one minute break between each round, this whole thing'll be over in less than half an hour.

it seems like nothing-- but you know from experience that when it's the love of your life getting the shit beat outta her-- it feels like forever.

add on top of that your training to identify strains and damage to the body, the fact that this is sevika's biggest fight yet, and all the pain her arm's been in for these past few weeks-- you're gonna be a nervous wreck tonight.

you kiss sevika goodbye as you enter the roaring arena, taking your spot at the side of the ring, watching vander and silco start to hype her up, massaging her shoulders and reminding her what they've been practicing.

announcers are droning on about her stats, fans are going crazy all around you, but the only thing you can hear is the pounding of your heart in your ears.

vander hands sevika her gloves, smacks her back, then heads over to sit beside you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. "she's gonna win." he says.

you snort. "what makes you so sure?"

vander chuckles and shrugs. "just got a feelin'."

sevika meets her opponent in the center of the ring. they've fought before, they're friendly outside the ring-- and right now they're chatting idly as they wait for the match to start.

you see sevika's opponent ask her something, followed by sevika's wide grin, and her gesturing out at the crowd to you. you laugh when her opponent waves at you, waving back and then blowing sevika a kiss. she winks.

the ref enters the ring, and sevika's friendly demeanor drops in an instant, her 'fight face' intense and a little scary.

you get tense in your seat as you wait for the bell. and then it rings, and the first round begins.

you're no good at keeping score of who hits where. that's silco's job-- the ref's and vander's. your job is to remember each hit sevika doesn't take properly, each bruise that'll blossom on her skin, each muscle that's strained by her dodges.

you don't notice the good hits she gets in, the spinning kicks she lands, the way the audience and vander beside you erupt into fierce cheers for your girl.

all you notice is the way she falls funny on her ankle, the slight strain in her left swings, the endless kicks she takes to her ribs.

it's hell on earth. you count your lucky stars that sevika fights in a league that requires head protection.

and, just when you think you can't take it anymore-- the bell rings, and the first fight ends.

silco's at sevika's side in an instant, passing her water and dabbing sweat away from her face. you take a deep breath, and vander settles back in his seat beside you from where he'd leapt up in excitement.

"she's doing good." he tells you. you huff.

"it's the first round and her arm's already bothering her."

"yeah, but she's doing really fucking good." you blink over at your friend, taking in the sparkle in his eye. vander's been watching fights for years, he only gets like this when he's witnessing something special. something in your chest lightens a bit, and you relax in your char. "i'm gettin' a beer-- you wanna beer?" vander offers, waving down the vendor walking through the crowds of fans.

you chuckle and shrug, deciding to indulge yourself. the energy in the crowd tonight is electric, vander seems confident in your girl, and she's positively beaming as she chats with silco on the side of the ring-- you can take a break from being sev's PT and be her swooning girlfriend-- just for one round.

you try to watch the second round from vander's perspective. you still flinch each time she takes a roundhouse to the head, but you manage to gasp and laugh along with her fans when she punches her opponent hard enough to send her flying across the ring.

it's hot. sevika's got this cocky smirk on her face, and it only grows each time she dodges a hit or redirects her opponents attacks.

and when the bell rings, the first thing sevika does is lift her gaze to the crowd to find you, sending you a wink, like she could feel your appreciative gaze on her the entire time.

you have to chug the remainder of your cold beer to keep yourself from getting flustered.

vander hands you another beer without asking, and you laugh, cheersing your pastic cup to his.

"she's on fire!" he laughs. "i shoulda fuckin' known she'd fight like this tonight." he says.

you giggle and lean in so vander can hear your words over the roaring crowd. "i get that it's the title fight, but she's fought and won those before! why are you all actin' like tonight's so special... 's she winning more money?" you ask.

vander cackles and shakes his head. "you'll see."

round three starts with sevika taking a nasty blow to her face.

blood starts to decorate the mats-- and sevika shakes her head the same way she always does when her brain's been rattled in her skull. you cringe, and chug your beer. vander hands you his-- knowing how much you hate seeing her take headshots.

"she'll be fine."

"i'm gonna need more fucking beer." you grunt.

sevika manages to get her advantage back by the end of the third round, but by the time she's taking a sip of water beside silco, you've managed to drink four beers.

it hits you all at once-- and when the fourth round begins, you find yourself giggling and squealing like a girl as you watch your girlfriend fight.

most of your anxiety is floating away in a haze of alcohol. you're still worryidly rambling to vander when she takes a nasty hit "fuck, that's gonna bruise nasty," and "oh her poor ankle." but you don't dwell as much, and your enthuasitc praise intersperses your worries. "she's so strong, isn't she?" you sigh dreaimly when she pins her opponent for the tenth time tonight. vander chuckles and nods.

"she sure is."

"she's so pretty." you sigh.

vander laughs. "she's covered in blood and half her face is swollen up."

"i love her so much."

vander laughs, and the fourth round ends. "no more beer for you until the fight's over." he says. you nod, a little dizzy, and wave at sevika where she's catching her breath.

she beckons you to the side of the ring with a crooked finger, and you giggle, easily breaching the circle of security guards that surround the ring-- they all know who you are.

"hi baby." you giggle up at your girlfriend.

"hi, love."

"you're amazing." you sigh, nuzzling into sevika's hand where she cups your cheek. "you're bleeding." you pout, reaching up to swipe some of the blood trailing down her nostril up. sevika snorts.

"vander gave you beer?" she guesses.

"i was basically shitting myself watchin' you get beat up."

"thirty seconds, sev." silco says. she shoots him a thumbs up.

you're vaguely aware of the fact that the jumbotrons in the arena are zoomed in on your sweet exchange with your girlfriend, but you're too focused on her sparkling eyes to care.

"how's your head?" you ask.

"i'm fine." sevika chuckles. you glare at her.

"and your shoulder?"

"i'll be okay. i've got a really good PT." she jokes. you huff and roll your eyes, and silco taps sevika's shoulder. "i gotta go, love. five more minutes, 'n then you're mine." she teases, winking at you before she walks toward the center of the ring.

you have to be pulled out of your haze by one of the security guards gently tapping your shoulder and guiding you back to your seat.

"you two are ridiculous." vander teases when you return to his side. you huff.

"shut up."

"it's adorable."

the fifth round begins, and you let yourself get swept up in the anticipation. fans have been waiting all year for this fight-- some have been following sevika for her whole career-- you're all on the edge of your seats as the last round plays out and determines the title champion.

it's thrilling.

sevika gets a series of good kicks and hits in on her opponent, but then she lunges and pins sev to the mat. there's a struggle, sevika takes a few hits, and then they break apart and manage to get back to their feet.

for a moment, the two fighters dance in a circle around one another, waiting for a moment to lunge.

and then--

sevika back with her bad arm and throws a hit. her opponent ducks, grabs her bad arm, and throws her over her shoulder.

the crowd gasps with you as you all watch sevika get thrown to the ground.

you want to cry she cringes and makes to grab her shoulder before she has to throw her hand up to block a hit.

you want to vomit.

you want to run up to the ring and tell them to stop the fight-- that that was her bad arm, that she won't be able to fight anymore with the pain she's in.

but then, because she's sevika, your girlfriend jumps up from her spot on the ground, and continues the fight with her left arm limp at her side.

and even like that-- with her left arm limp and her shoulder swelling-- sevika makes it through the round.

the moment the fight ends, sevika collapses onto the mat, holding her shoulder and groaning. silco's by her side in an instant. you're there the next.

you vaguely register the crowd's worried chattering-- the announcer's going through sevika's history with her arm-- both still shocked that she managed to finish the round with her arm dislocated.

you grab sevika's face in your hands and guide her to look at you. "i gotta pop your arm back in place, baby. it's gonna hurt like a bitch." you say.

sevika gulps and nods up at you, and you kiss up her tears before arranging your hands to grip her arm properly. she wails in pain as you adjust her, and tears well up in your eyes.

"ladies and gentlemen... the judges have finished their deliberation... and it looks like we have a winner: for the fifth year in the row-- your reigning champion-- SEVIKA--"

the announcers are drowned out by the roar of the crowd and sevika's animalistic growl as you pop her joint back in its socket.

you blink up at silco as sevika catches her breath and starts to move her left arm, unsure if you had heard that correctly. "did she--"

"you fucking won!" vander shouts as he scrambles into the ring beside the three of you. he hovers over sevika where she's still cringing in pain on the ground, and wraps her up in a big hug.

silco helps you stand from the mat, wrapping his arms around you too as confetti starts to spray down on sevika's little posse.

the crowd bursts into cheers, and you asssume it must be because sevika's finally stood from where she collapsed.

but when you turn around to embrace her, you're confused to find her kneeling on the mat, still gripping her left shoulder.

"a-are you okay, baby?" you ask, crouching down to hold her face in your hands. sevika grins up at you, high off adrenaline and a win, and all the worry and stress in your chest evaporate at the sight.

she pulls her hand away from her shoulder and reveals something to you. you blink down at it in confusion-- something small and black and boxy-- and then it hits you.

sevika's kneeling. and holding a box in her hands. and she just won the biggest fight of her life, and there's cameras surrounding you and she's looking up at you like you're the only thing in the world.

"sev--"

"will you marry me?" she asks, grinning. you can't even hear her over the roar of the crowd-- you have to read her lips.

she flips open the little box and reveals a ring to you, and you lunge forward, pinning sevika to the mat for what must be the hundreth time tonight.

she doesn't fight you off though.

instead, she just laughs, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you in for a kiss as you sob and nod down at her.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @claude999 @nhaaauyen

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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jesuistrestriste · 21 days ago

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early 2000s indie band “fire&ice” make their debut ✮

✮ art donaldson, 20, singer and guitar-player. down-to-earth, slightly shy, cute blonde hair and the brightest blue eyes. status: single.

✮ patrick zweig, 20, drummer and occasional singer. a total flirt, rough-around-the-edges, pretty freckles and a killer smile. did we mention he’s brunette? status: it’s complicated.

the two young musicians are making their rounds in the state, and are already selling out shows. consider us impressed, boys !

an inside source claims that merch is on the way, but you’ll have to be quick about snagging some — limited amounts + crazy fans = hard to keep stocked ..

rumor has it that the boys already have tons of loyal groupies, oh my !

an interview with one of these so-called groupies recently revealed that the lead singer is “good with his mouth” and the drummer is “good with his hands”.. we’ll leave it at that ;)

their hit song “crushed” is taking over the country — heartbreak sells, people ! now the real question is: which member wrote it, and who were they writing about?

good luck on the road, fire&ice, we’re excited to see where this musical journey leads you both x

—

ref : indie sleaze pat and art

#i missed thinking about them #i kinda wanna write a full fic about them and their band #groupie!reader x fire&ice ?#ive never really made one of these collage posts before but they’re so fun #cutesy #art donaldson fic #patrick zweig fic #art donaldson x you #patrick zweig x you #challengers fic #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson smut #patrick zweig smut

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astrids-blog333 · 23 days ago

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To Have and To Hold

Jon Snow x Reader

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Summary: Jon returns from battle, bloodied and victorious. But all you care about is the fact that he came home to you.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (at the end) ref to canon-typical violence, blood/injuries, mild gore, strong language, ref to war.

A/N: I will forever love Game of Thrones, and I just rewatched it for the millionth time to distract myself from exams 🤭 this doesn't follow the plot specifically, but I imagined season 6 Jon :)

dividers by @cafekitsune

MASTERLIST - REQUESTS (OPEN)

WC: 2.6k

The wind cuts through the open expanse of the North, sharp and cold against your face as you stand above the large gates of Winterfell.

The men of the North have returned.

You can hear the rumble of horses' hooves long before they appear over the ridge, the sound growing louder and louder. The warriors ride in, exhausted but victorious, with cheers from the village ringing out behind them.

The familiar scent of the north fills your lungs, the fresh pine, the earth after rain, and a lingering trace of smoke from the fires burning in every hearth. You look at the soldiers, some of them grinning, others barely able to keep themselves upright.

But all eyes are on Jon. He’s at the front of the group, shoulders broad, head held high. His dark hair is matted with dirt and blood, and his clothes are stained with the gory aftermath of battle.

But to you, he’s perfect. He's your king.

Your husband.

You’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, the worry that’s been gnawing at you since he left now turning into relief that he's come home to you unscathed.

You can’t wait another second.

Without thinking, you break into a run, your feet pounding against the stone as you sprint toward him. The villagers part to let you through, some giving you nods of respect.

Jon’s eyes lock with yours in the crowd, his gaze intense, even from a distance. His lips curl into a half-smile as he urges his horse forward. You’re almost there, and in a moment that feels as though it’s been months in the making, he’s dismounting before the horse even comes to a full stop.

He’s there, in front of you, a storm of emotions swirling behind his dark, brooding eyes. You reach him in a heartbeat. Your arms are around his neck, and before he can protest, you feel the heat of his body engulf you. He tries to pull back from you.

“No, love, I’m covered in blood-”

But you don’t listen. You’re already in his arms, his chest hard and solid as he pulls you against him, lifting you off your feet in a tight embrace.

The cheers from the soldiers and villagers fade into nothing as his lips find yours. It’s hungry and desperate, as if the entire world has melted away, leaving only the two of you. His mouth tastes like salt, iron, and something raw. His arms tighten impossibly around you, pulling you closer, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away from his desperate grasp.

You feel his chest heaving beneath your fingers, his body trembling every so slightly, but there’s no hesitation in his touch. He holds you like he’s never going to let you go.

His lips break away from yours, just for a moment, but you’re still tangled in his embrace, your breath shaky. His forehead presses against yours, and you can hear the weight of his voice as he mutters, “I was worried, you know. I couldn’t stand the thought of you here all alone, and no one being here to protect-”

“I’m fine,” you say, cutting him off, your hands sliding up to cup his face. You smile up at him, feeling the rush of love flood your chest. “You’re back. That’s all that matters.”

Jon holds you even tighter, his hand cupping the back of your head as he buries his face in your hair. The world around you is still roaring with celebration, but in this moment, all you hear is his heartbeat and the sound of your own breath.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” he whispers, his voice low and hoarse. His words send a shiver through you, and you can feel the weight of everything that has happened settle.

All the brutal battles, all the bloodshed, the distance.

But now he’s home.

You hold him tighter, not caring about the blood or dirt staining your dress. You’ve missed him in ways words can’t express, and all that’s left is the overwhelming need to be close to him, to hold him, to remind each other that the war is over for now.

You don’t pull away from him, your arms still tightly wrapped around his neck, but you can feel the weight of his blood and dirt pressing against you, the remnants of the battle that still cling to him. You can’t wait to get him inside, where you can finally help him relax and tend to his wounds.

Jon pulls back just slightly, his hands still resting on your hips as he looks down at you with a soft smile. His thumb brushes across your cheek, as if checking to see if you’re truly real, as if this moment is just as overwhelming for him as it is for you.

He seems to notice the way your eyes scan him, analysing the cuts littering his body.

“I’m fine,” whispers, his tone soft but still with that familiar stubborn edge. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

You give him a look, a silent challenge to let you help, and Jon simply chuckles, his shoulders sagging slightly as he lets out a long breath.

Inside the warmth of your chambers, the two of you are finally together, alone.

You move toward the bathing area, prepared to clean him, tend to him. Jon doesn’t protest. He stands, his broad frame slightly slumped, and begins to undress slowly. His movements are tired, but there’s a quiet strength in them. You can see the exhaustion in his eyes, the lingering pain from the battle.

This is the moment where you can care for him, take away the stress, even if just for a little while.

He steps into the water, sighing as the warmth envelops him. You kneel beside the tub, reaching for the cloth. The water swirls around him, dark with the blood and dirt he’s carried back from the battlefield.

You step closer, a cloth in your hand, your presence drawing his gaze. His eyes soften as you approach, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Didn’t think I’d get a personal healer today,” he murmurs, his voice low but teasing. “I’m used to the battlefields, not the bath.”

You smile back, dipping the cloth into the warm water. “Well, today’s your lucky day.” Your fingers brush against his shoulder as you gently begin cleaning the blood and grime from his skin, the warmth of the water combined with your touch allowing Jon to finally relax.

Jon’s gaze never leaves you as you tend to him. His chest rises and falls with each breath, and you can see the exhaustion in his eyes, but also the trust. His hand reaches up to run through his wet hair, pushing it away from his forehead. The tension in his body slowly melting away.

“You always know how to make me feel better,” he says quietly, his voice soft, adoring.

You chuckle lightly, dipping the cloth into the water again and pressing it gently against his side, where a fresh wound is healing. “That’s what I’m here for.”

But there’s something in the way his eyes watch you that makes this moment feel different, more intimate than usual. His fingers brush over your arm, light, like he’s just feeling the softness of your skin, but it’s enough to send a small spark through you.

“Do you need to be so gentle?” he asks, his voice teasing but with a hint of something else in it, like he’s testing the boundaries. “I’m tougher than I look, you know.”

You glance up at him, catching the glint of amusement in his eyes. “I’m not worried about you,” you reply, rising to his bait. “I just like taking care of you.”

His lips curl into a smile, and he leans back, clearly at ease, letting you work. “I’m starting to think you like it a little too much.”

You raise an eyebrow, not missing the playful tone in his voice. “Maybe I do,” you smirk, the smile on your lips matching his. “But you deserve it.”

You move down his body slowly, checking over his wounds, making sure each one is clean and free of dirt. As your fingers graze over his skin, you notice his attention shifting. He’s watching you more closely now, the mood subtly shifting as his gaze moves from your hands to your face.

There’s a quiet pause before he speaks again. “You’re always so focused when you care for me. It’s... comforting.” His voice drops.

You meet his gaze, not backing down, but instead letting your hand trail along his arm as you finish cleaning the last of the blood from his side. "Like I said, I want to make sure you're alright."

Jon leans in slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m more than alright with you here.”

The room falls into silence, the only sound being the gentle splash of water as you shift and move around him. You finish cleaning his wounds, your hands lingering just a little longer than necessary on his skin. He’s close now, his body warm against yours.

With a final look over his chest, you step back, letting him relax into the water.

“All done.”

Jon leans back again against the stone side of the tub, his eyes still focused on you. There’s a moment where neither of you speaks, just enjoying the quiet. Jon’s hand reaches up, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering just a little longer than necessary.

Finally, Jon stands from the bath, his muscles glistening with water. He reaches for a towel, but before he wraps it around himself, he turns toward you.

“You’re right, you know,” he says quietly, his voice laced with both affection and something deeper. “I’ve fought battles, but this... this is different. You make everything easier.”

You don’t say anything at first; you just watch him, and your heart is swelling for the man standing in front of you. You move to help him dry off, your hands slow.

But Jon isn’t finished yet. He steps closer to you, his body warm and solid against yours as he cups your face gently in his hands, bringing you in for a soft kiss.

His lips are so soft, and you feel his hands move from your face to your waist, pulling you toward him until your bodies are flush against each other.

For a moment, you both simply stand there, caught in the kiss. His lips are a little desperate now, pressing against yours harder, deeper, he can’t get enough. His hands slip lower, sliding around your waist, and before you can even react, he lifts you off your feet. You gasp into the kiss, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries you across the room.

You cling to him, your heart racing, as he walks toward the bed, never breaking the kiss. His hands feel like fire on your skin, his body solid and strong against you.

You’re completely at his mercy, and you can feel the desire pumping through you. When he reaches the edge of the bed, he gently sets you down, taking a moment to look at you.

“You’ve no idea how much I’ve waited for this,” he mutters, voice thick and rough.

You reach for him, pulling him closer, unable to wait any longer. "Show me," you whisper back, your hands sliding down his chest, feeling every inch of him.

And without another word, Jon closes the space between you.

As you lie back on the bed, Jon hovers over you, his dark eyes heavy with desire, his fingertips grazing your skin. His breath is shallow, his chest rising and falling with the anticipation.

“You’ve no idea what you do to me,” he growls, his lips trailing down your neck, the warmth of his breath sending shivers across your skin. He finds the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, and you can't help but let out a soft moan, the sound barely escaping you.

Jon pauses, lifting his head to look at you, his gaze heated, focused entirely on you. His hand moves slowly, possessively, from your waist up to your breast, brushing against the fabric of your dress before pushing it aside. He groans softly at the sight of your skin, his mouth trailing down to your chest, kissing the exposed area before his hands start to move lower.

“Jon,” you whisper. You reach for him, but he stops you with a gentle hand, pressing your palm against the bed.

“Patience, love,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “I’ve waited far too long to rush this.”

Your heart races as his lips return to yours, his hands sliding down to your hips, pulling your body even closer to his. The heat between you both is unbearable, every inch of your skin aching for him.

Jon’s lips trail lower, his hands finding the lower hem of your dress. He pauses, looking up at you one more time, his gaze soft but filled with hunger.

“Are you sure?”

You nod, pulling him closer, not able to wait any longer. “Of course I’m sure.”

Without another word, Jon pulls the rest of your dress off, his eyes drinking you in as he undresses you. The moment he’s fully exposed you, his lips find yours again, hungry and wild. He presses his body against yours, his warmth enveloping you as he pushes you further up the bed.

As he first thrusts into you, you feel your body shudder in response. A sharp gasp escapes your lips, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he stretches you, filling you completely.

The initial ache melts into something deeper, something that sends heat curling low in your stomach. Each of his movements is deliberate, slow, drawing out the sensation, the heat building between you both until it feels like there’s no distance left between you.

Jon’s face is pressed against the crook of your neck, his breathing laboured as he continues to move against you. His hands grip the sheets beside you, and you can feel the tension in his body, the way he holds back, controlling the pace.

But as your moans get louder, his control slowly slips away.

He picks up the pace, his thrusts growing faster, harder, until everything blurs into a haze of sensation. You meet him with equal fervor, wrapping your legs around him, pulling him deeper, wanting more, needing more.

When the climax hits, it’s like a wave crashing over you both.

It's sudden, powerful, and all-consuming. Your body trembles beneath him, your nails digging into his back as he moves against you, his name escaping your lips in a breathless gasp. Jon follows soon after, his grip on you tightening as he buries his face in your neck.

For a moment, there’s only silence, the two of you wrapped in each other’s arms, recovering from the intensity of what just happened. Jon presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his breath still shaky as he pulls you closer.

“I love you,” he whispers.

You smile, kissing him softly. “I love you too, Jon.”

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starrysan · 5 months ago

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nouvelle vague

pairing: korea local!yunho x new to city!reader

summary: yunho was a workaholic. most of his day was work, eat, sleep, and repeat it all again. his friends make him finally get out of the house to go to dinner w someone new. will they be friends? will they be enemies? who know :)

pls fill out the taglist form if you'd like to be added ^^

(the titles are 1000% wave to earth songs and refs)

main masterlist

status: COMPLETE! [but i'll probs post bonus content]

──────────୨୧──────────

the terrible 3 (+chris) | yunho's office sirens

✎ = written chapter

chapters:

one: seasons

two: calla

three: sunny days

four: wave ✎

five: peach eyes

six: surf

seven: slow dive ✎

eight: pink horizon

nine: light

ten: gold

eleven: bonfire

twelve: are you bored? ✎

thirteen: sunburn

fourteen: dried flower

fifteen: pueblo ✎

sixteen: daisy ✎

seventeen: evening glow

eighteen: homesick

nineteen: love

twenty: to us ✎ [epilogue]

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez imagines #ateez smau #ateez x reader #yunho ateez #yunho x reader #yunho smau #yunho #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #starrysan

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brookediamonds · 4 months ago

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let your arms invite me, for who knows when we'll meet again this way | Axel Kovačević x Fem! Reader

summary: based off this request

Word count: 3.4k Warnings: mentions of violence, drugs (a little), fluff

gif is not mine

"Do you mind?" You whine, gently shoving your brother away from you as the two of you line up for the captain's photos.

"Can't I be close to you?" Robby teases you moving to wrap an arm around your shoulder making you growl in frustration.

"I'm gonna break your arm, you annoying gremlin," you spat shrugging his arm off. You hear a snort from behind you, making you spare a glance to your right.

The boy who made the noise makes quick eye contact with you before focusing on the camera man ahead of you.

What a cutie

The photographer shoots a few pictures before dismissing the teams. As you make way back towards your group, you see the strongly built boy that stood behind you walk past you, turning his head back to give you one last look before walking out of the building with his teammates.

"Earth to (Y/n)," Robby's hand waves in front of your face making you smack it out of the way.

"I'm listening," you fought pretending to know what he just said when you were actually checking out the tall drink of water that just left.

----------------------------------------------------------

You learn he's apart of The Iron Dragons, a team that is randomly drawn along with Cobra Kai to fight with during Captain's War.

Unfortunately as you were paired up to fight with Tory, your brother is distracted and gets knocked down easily eliminating your team out.

As you and your dojo line up along the mat, you watch as Cobra Kai is dominated by the green team within just a few seconds.

You're unable to hide the impressed expression among your face, his eyes meeting yours across the mat. There's a small smirk playing on his lips when he catches you looking at him.

Breaking eye contact first, you shake off the feeling of intrigue, knowing you needed to focus on what was next.

You luckily win the next event of one-on-one against the Dublin team, and score more points for the team when you win your match during the Bo staff competition.

"Point, (Y/n) Lawrence! Miyagi-Do wins!" The ref holds your hand up signifying your win.

You see the familiar green gi standing across from you, arms crossed as he watched you. You can't read his face very well, but before you can do anything your team envelopes you proud at your accomplishments.

----------------------------------------------------------

After losing one of the events later in the day, your team stood back with the others watching the first match of the platform fight.

It's like clockwork watching The Iron Dragons captain's fight, they were an unbeatable team. A feeling of want bubbles up inside your stomach as the male captain pounds against his chest, yelling proudly they had won their match

"Was this dude made in a lab?" Hawk asks almost disgusted making you frown.

"He's like a mix between the Winter Soldier and Frankenstein's monster," Demetri adds in.

"Don't call him a monster," Sam interjects. "You don't know him or what he deals with."

Your eyes soften at the girl next to you, looking back up at the tall boy on the platform. He glances down at you and sees your soften expression making him look away.

It was time for Miyagi-Do to go against Dublin Thunder.

Your dad suggests the captain's first, you and Robby, starting off strong.

You're able to keep up with other team, again, Robby is distracted and knocked off.

"Think you're so tough? Well I'll show you tough, bitch," a blonde girl challenges you making you scoff. She's quick to come at you, but after learning Sam's defense, you're able to keep up.

"Don't mess with me, bitch," you spat back at her before catching her hands, and jumping up to use both feet to kick her off the platform.

Your other teammates do their best to protect you, and even sacrifice themselves, but almost everyone is gone when Miguel joins you.

There's one guy and the captain from the other team left, evening out the floor.

As you wait for the male captain to come to you, he laughs in your face mocking the fact that, you a girl, thought you could handle him.

Shutting him up, you take the opportunity to kick him in the face, knocking him off the podium immediately making the crowd around you cheer.

Turning to Miguel, he's just sent the last Dublin Thunder member flying back off the platform, the announcer making it known Miyagi-Do had won and was staying another day.

As you and Miguel jumped with excitement, he moved away from you and pretended to bow down to you. You laughed, pushing him away, your team gathering on to the podium with you guys.

Looking for your dad, you spot him sending him the bow of respect which he returned, and sent you a raised fist.

You see the male captain from the Iron Dragons staring at you, so you take the chance and shoot him a playful wink, making his eyes go wide at your bold gesture.

Maybe he was interested, maybe he wasn't, all you knew was, you didn't want to wait too long before you left Barcelona without knowing for sure.

----------------------------------------------------------

After Miguel and your dad receive bad news of Carmen being in the hospital, they take off back to California, leaving a spot open on your team.

"The guys want to go out, are you up for it?" Sam asks as the two of you lay in your beds completely wiped from the day.

You toss in your spot, debating the idea. It could be fun, you could drink, let loose for the night. But you were also exhausted and wanted to lay here for eternity.

"Maybe it'll help Robby loosen up," your friend suggest making you think again.

"True," you agreed. Your brother needed to get his mind off Tory, perhaps dragging him out and having fun could help just a little.

You were your father's daughter after all.

Throwing the covers off your body, you walk over to your suitcase and pull out a cute outfit to wear. You decided on some torn jean shorts, and a red off the shoulder sweater with a white tank top underneath.

"So I kind of saw something earlier," Sam comes to sit next to you as you curled your lashes in the mirror. She wore a guilty expression, her shoulders sunken down.

"What was it?" You inquire giving her your undivided attention. You knew something was eating at her this evening by the way she was silent and watching the tv but not actually paying attention.

She sighs giving you a look of remorse.

"I saw that captain from the Iron Dragons get hit by his sensei," she unloads. "And not like a sparring hit, he full on smacked him repeatedly to prove a point."

You're taken aback at her witnessing, realizing why she was defending him earlier when Hawk and Demetri were so quick to judge him.

"Oh my god," you whisper. "I can't imagine what he goes through back home."

"He looked so helpless, (Y/n), he's this big strong guy out on the mat but inside..." Sam shakes her head not being able to get the image of the scene from earlier out of her head.

You're at a loss for words, knowing what it was like to be beaten for your mistakes. It was a time you didn't like thinking about.

"I'm glad Robby was able to pull you out of Cobra Kai when he did," she says out of thoughtfulness.

"The broken knuckle really did the trick," you say lightly even though the situation was heavy.

Silver and master Kim favored you being Johnny Lawrence's daughter and that came with a territory. It meant going through extraordinary measures so you could be the best.

"Sorry," Sam apologizes seeing your saddened state. "Let's finish getting ready, the boys are waiting."

You smile faintly, turning back to the mirror to finish applying your mascara. As you leaned in towards your reflection, the pink raised scar just above your cheek, below your left eye, suddenly looked so bright reminding you of just a few months ago.

Much like your brother, you spoke your mind and Silver didn't like it. It lead to being backhanded across the face on a few occasions. You were at rock bottom when you smashed your fist into the rock behind master Kim leading you to a broken knuckle.

Concealer only covered the old wound so much, you pretty much left it uncovered because what was the use?

Swiping on the black liquid over your eyelashes, you and Sam finish getting ready while listening to music and waiting for the guys to come by the room.

---------------------------------------------------------

"This is lame," you pouted glumly, twirling your red straw around the rim of your glass of coke. "Should we look for some weed?"

"When the hell have you ever done weed?" Your brother narrows his eyes at you.

“You don’t know me and what I do when I’m not around you,” you provoke the dirty blonde next to you.

Sam looks over at you amused between you and your brother’s banter.

“You would have called me the minute you got stoned, your light weight ass called me after two beers crying because you had the spins,” Robby retorts.

“I don’t recall,” you blink. Standing up from the table, you grab your phone slipping it in your back pocket. “I’m gonna go for a walk, maybe score some crack.”

“Alright cracky, we’ll be here,” your brother says averting his attention to the girl who just sauntered into the bar. It was Tory.

You motion for Sam to call you incase anything happens, to which she nods in agreement.

Trailing down the sidewalk, you see the entrance to the beach making you giddy inside. You loved the sound of the crashing waves, the moon shining over the dark water.

As you walk closer to the water, you see a familiar face practicing a kata routine, sending a wave of nerves through your system. This was your moment.

“Nice moves,” you spoke, slowly approaching the shirtless boy who froze at the sight of you.

“T-Thank you,” he stutters out, his low accent sending butterflies through your stomach. You’d listen to anything he had to say if it meant getting to hear him talk again.

“I’m (Y/n),” you introduce yourself while squatting down to sit on the light grainy surface beneath you.

“Axel,” he responds finally giving you a name to the face. Axel. It was unique. He turns to pick up his shirt and jacket, a trail of bruises lining up along his back making you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Those must hurt,” you say making him stand up straight. “The back takes awhile to heal.”

“From Bo staff competition,” he attempts to graze over the subject avoiding your eyes.

“No they’re not,” you respond softly. “I watched you knock down that kid from Panthre team in three strikes.”

“I- uh- should probably go, I am not supposed to speak to opponent,” Axel attempts to escape the conversation only for you to push back.

Looking around your scenery dramatically, you say, “I don’t see any referees around here.”

Axel can’t help but crack a smile at your silliness, making you feel warm inside.

“You are funny,” he says taking a few steps closer to you.

“Funny enough to make you stay and talk to me?” You purpose glancing up at him with your batting lashes.

He chuckles, taking a seat on the ground next to you.

“My sensei wants me to be the best,” he says referring back to your earlier conversation. “It is because of him, I never lose.”

You watch the ocean water slowly trickle near you, barely missing the tip of your feet by a few inches.

"Discipline doesn't mean abuse your students," you explain lightly. "I used to think getting hit meant I was held to higher standard."

"What does it mean then?" Axel questions curiously. You feel him staring at the side of your face, waiting patiently for your response.

"It means we're their only outlet for control," you answer simply. "And as far as I'm concerned, I'm no one's puppet."

You begin to trace circles in the sand beneath you, aware the boy was still gazing over you.

"Is...Is that how you got this?" He reaches over, gently running his pointer finger over the faded scar below your eye. His touch left tingles on your face.

You nod unable to verbally confirm his suspicion, his hand dropping back to his side.

"The boys back home love it," you joke sarcastically attempting to lighten the mood. Axel gives you a lopsided smile, appreciating your humor somehow being able to mix in with the heavy topic.

"Your male captain, is that your boyfriend?" He asks catching you by surprise. You let out a 'pfft' finding his question absolutely hilarious.

"Absolutely not," you giggled. "He's my brother."

"Oh, makes sense," he laughs with you. You take a moment to look at him, really look at him, and admire his pretty physique.

The way his eyes were light blue like the ocean across from you, but held a shade of sea green in them with a speck of yellow, you could stare into those orbs for a lifetime.

"You have pretty eyes," you say so effortlessly making him do a double take at you. You were so confident, not only with your words, but with the way you carried yourself and the way you go into a fight.

The tip of his nose turns red along with his cheeks, his eyes flickering between you and his shoes.

"Thank you. You are so pretty, it makes me nervous," he admits shyly. Scooting closer to him, you lean your head to lay on his shoulder, and at first he freezes never been in a situation like this before with a girl.

But when he breathes in your floral shampoo, he can't help but let his guard down and relax beneath your position.

"If it's any consolation. I think you're pretty too," you tease him. "I was afraid we'd never talk before this tournament ends."

Axel barks a laugh at your choice of words, 'pretty?' That was new.

"We always seem to find each other," he says glancing down at you. "Tournament, mat..."

You look up at him, his pupils dilated with desire making your heart race. Feeling the tension of intensity between you, you notice his jaw tightening, lips parted slightly.

"The beach," you whisper, your eyes trailing down to his pink lips.

You turned to look at him first, you winked at him, you came up to him, you had the upper hand. He wanted to be the one to initiate the kiss first.

Slowly, deliberately, Axel leans in. His face inches towards yours, and the warmth of his breath hitting you. He hesitates just before your lips meet, your heart feeling like it's going to explode.

You suddenly feel his hand envelop your cheek, his thumb lightly running across the faded scar, letting you know you were safe.

Then, gently, his lips press against yours, tentative at first, as if testing the waters, before deepening the kiss, each movement slow and deliberate, a soft surrender to the moment you've both been waiting for.

You can't help but smile into the kiss, the electrifying and sparkling feeling running through your limbs, you could jump up and sprint circles around the beach because of the spark you felt.

"Wow," Axel breathes out, his mind spinning from the consumption of your lips. You let out a soft chuckle, pressing your forehead to his.

"Indeed," you agreed playfully. It feels like the world around you has ceased to exist and the two of you relinquish in this sweet moment, completely captivated by one another.

You lean in again to reconnect your buzzing lips, never wanting to return to what waited for you beyond the sand.

---------------------------------------------------------

The next day, you're still high on the feeling from last night's interactions with Axel.

"I feel like crap," Robby groaned with his face in his hands as you, Sam, and him ate breakfast together in the hotel buffet.

"I feel great!" You chirped taking a bite out of your piece of bacon.

"Don't yell," he hushed you glaring at your cheerful state. You roll your eyes, reaching into your jean pocket to pull out two pills of Aleve, smacking them down on the table for your hungover brother.

"I didn't even hear you come in last night," Sam says her blue eyes averting to yours as she took a sip of her orange juice.

Glancing down at your plate, you began to cut up your waffles trying to come up with an excuse. You knew you could tell Sam with no judgment, but your brother on the other hand...

"Well you know when I go on a beach, my shell hunting instincts kick in and once I get started on that," you smoothly respond.

Your curly hair friend nods knowing you loved your shells, and that in fact is a whole ordeal.

"I'm pretty full," you say after finishing off your glass of milk. "I'll meet you back in the room."

Robby is taking the medication, shuddering at the gulp he takes.

"So much for being a light weight," you jab at him.

"Whatever, weirdo," he shakes his head beginning to dig into his scrambled eggs.

You roll your eyes and grab your plate to place in a trash bin, and head back to the elevators. As you opened your phone feed to scroll through your latest feed, you're suddenly pulled away from your trail, causing you to yelp.

Axel tugged you in close to his chest, tucking you two into a secluded corner.

"Good morning to you too," you grin widely, laying your hands against his firm chest. He's gazing down at you no longer feeling vulnerable, but comfortable with you.

"Morning," he hums nuzzling his nose against yours sending your heart fluttering. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your old wound upon your cheek first, then grazes his lips with your own.

"I have not stopped thinking about you," Axel murmurs against your mouth making your heart feel full.

"What the hell?"

You whip your head around seeing your brother standing a few feet away from you, staring back at you in disbelief.

"Robby, please," you scoff letting go of the boy you were holding on to.

"You're kidding me right?" The green eyed boy motions to the slavic boy behind you. "He's our biggest rival, you can't be with the competition."

Your jaw fell open at the hypocrisy his advice, making your blood boil.

"Back off Robby, you don't want to go there," you threaten him.

"No, let's go," he says reaching out for your hand, practically taking your arm off. Axel is quick to grab your other free hand, pulling you back towards him.

"Let go of me!" You shout planting your feet in place making both boys release their grip from you.

"Not you," you glance back at the boy you were kissing a minute ago, holding your hand out for him which he takes immediately. Robby rubs a hand over his face letting out a frustrated sigh.

"I don't know what your deal is, but get it together," you seethe almost embarrassed at the whole situation at hand. You'd be lucky if Axel gave you a second look after this.

Your brother glares up at Axel, flaring his nostrils, and making a fist with both hands.

"If I find out you're messing with her, or playing some kind of cruel joke just for the benefit of this tournament," Robby inches closer to quiet boy next to you, his voice lowering to a threatening tone. "I will beat your ass into the ground."

"Jesus, Robby," you mutter feeling the flush creeping up your neck as Axel shifts uncomfortably beside you, clearly caught off guard by Robby’s sudden outburst.

You give him a quick, apologetic glance before turning back to your brother, your voice softer but still trying to get through to him. "I’m fine, okay?"

Your sibling nods, gazing over at Axel one last time before walking off into the opposite direction.

"I am so sorry," you sputter out profusely. "He's going through something right now and-"

"It is okay," Axel reassures you, placing his hands on your shoulder. "He is protecting you."

"He's annoying," you give him a sarcastic smile making him chuckle. He runs his hands down your arms, lacing his fingers through yours.

"I am on my way to get some breakfast, care to join me?" He asks thoughtfully. Even though you were full on waffles and bacon, you weren't gonna pass up the opportunity to spend more time with him.

After all, there was a fruit and açaí bar you skipped out on.

"I'd love to," you smile up at him. Stepping on your tippy toes, you stretch your neck up and press your lips to his tenderly.

You didn't know where this was going, or what it may lead to, but you could enjoy this time with this beautiful boy for now.

---------------------------------------------------------

(a/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄hope y'all are enjoying your holidays, sorry this was kind of long. Next thing I write will be a non-request, can't wait for you all to read it!)

#cobra kai #axel cobra kai #axel kovacevic #axel kovacevic imagines #axel kovacevic x reader #axel x reader #Spotify

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wherescody · 7 days ago

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lost at wrestlemania and post wrestlemania

WrestleMania 41 was supposed to be the pinnacle. The climax of Cody Rhodes’ hard-fought journey, the victory lap for a champion who had defied the odds, stitched together his legacy, and carried the weight of history with grace. He walked into the stadium as WWE Champion and the heartbeat of an entire generation of fans.

But fate had one more twist.

John Cena. A legend. A name etched into every corner of wrestling history. And tonight, he wasn’t just a challenger he was a man chasing immortality.

The bell rang. The match started. And for nearly 40 minutes, they battled like gods at war — trading strikes, counters, finishers, and near-falls that made the sold-out stadium shake. It was epic, gritty, and emotional.

And then, somehow, Cena landed the final blow.

The ref’s hand came down.

One. Two. Three.

The moment it happened, the world erupted — history made, a 17-time World Champion crowned. Cena fell to his knees in disbelief, tears on his face, basking in the roar of the crowd.

But behind the celebration, on the canvas, Cody Rhodes lay motionless.

Not because of the physical toll — though he was bloodied and bruised but because of what he’d lost. Not just the title, but the dream. The story he’d fought so hard to finish now had a painful new chapter. And it wasn’t the one he had written in his heart.

Backstage, Y/N watched everything unfold with her chest tight and her fingers trembling. Her heart had cracked the moment the bell rang. Watching Cody lose watching him lose the title that had cost him so much to win was gutting. Because she knew.

She knew this wasn’t just a loss.

This would haunt him.

When Cody came through the curtain after the match, he didn’t speak. The usual swarm of producers and staff parted around him like he was a ghost. Trainers tried to offer him water, a towel, to escort him to medical. He waved them off. Silently. Emotionless.

But when his eyes met Y/N’s, the facade cracked — even if only for a second.

Without a word, she walked to him and gently wrapped her arms around his waist. His body leaned into hers. Heavy. Drained. Defeated.

“You okay?” she whispered, even though she already knew the answer.

He didn’t say anything just shook his head slightly, his eyes glassy but dry.

They didn’t linger.

No post-show interviews. No press. No words for the cameras. Cody walked right past all of it, Y/N’s hand clasped in his, guiding him through the halls like a lifeline. They exited the stadium quietly, slipping into the chill of the night, away from the lights and the roar of history being made.

The tour bus was waiting.

Cody climbed the steps first, head still low. Y/N followed, the door shutting behind them with a soft hiss. Silence wrapped around them instantly.

The bus felt too still, too quiet. The kind of quiet that made every emotion feel ten times louder.

Cody stood in the center of the main lounge for a moment, unmoving, staring at nothing. His hands were at his sides, still taped up. His championship jacket hung untouched on the hook near the door. The championship his championship wasn’t with him anymore.

He finally sat down on the edge of the built-in couch, elbows on his knees, his head bowed low.

And then… he broke.

Not with screams or rage. Not with slammed fists or shattered glass. But with a single breath long, deep, and trembling. His shoulders began to shake.

Y/N rushed to his side, dropping to her knees in front of him. She reached up to touch his face bloodied and bruised from the match and he leaned into her palm like it was the only thing tethering him to earth.

“I failed,” he said, barely audible.

“No,” she whispered.

“I failed everyone,” he repeated. “The fans. The boys in the back. The ones who believed in me. You.”

Her heart cracked in two.

“Don’t you dare say that,” she said, her voice shaking but fierce. “You did not fail me. You did not fail anyone.”

Cody finally looked up at her, tears in his eyes, red and tired. “I couldn’t hold onto it, Y/N. I said I would carry it, for them. For him. For my dad. And I dropped it. Just like that.”

She crawled up onto the couch beside him and pulled him into her arms, holding him tightly, his face buried in her neck as he cried. Not loud, but deep, guttural sobs. The kind that came from months years of weight he had never put down.

“You gave everything,” she whispered. “Everything. You fought like hell. You gave us moments we’ll never forget. That title didn’t define your worth. You do.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist tightly, like he was afraid to let go.

“I didn’t think it would hurt this much,” he admitted. “But seeing him holding that title the one I swore I’d defend with everything I had it felt like losing a piece of myself.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But you haven’t lost me. And you haven’t lost the story. This isn’t the end.

His voice cracked again. “I just wanted to make my dad proud.”

Y/N gently placed a hand over the word tattooed on his chest: Dream.

“You already have. Every time you stepped into that ring. Every time you stood up after being knocked down. He’s proud of you. I’m proud of you. You don’t have to win every match to be worthy, Cody.”

They stayed curled up on the tour bus couch, the engine humming softly beneath them, the outside world still spinning

Inside, it was just them. No cameras. No fans. No title.

Just a man hurting, and the woman who refused to let him face it alone.

⸻

Later that night, Cody would fall asleep on that same couch, wrapped in a blanket, his head in Y/N’s lap. She stayed awake for a while, fingers gently stroking his hair, staring out the window of the tour bus.

She didn’t know what came next. Redemption? A break? Maybe even reinvention.

But what she did know was this:

They’d keep going.

Together.

Because even in heartbreak, even in loss Cody Rhodes still had fight left in him.

And he still had love. Unshakable, unwavering love.

—————————

The sun rose on the Monday after WrestleMania 41, but it didn’t feel like a new day. Not for Cody Rhodes.

He had barely slept. Even on the tour bus, surrounded by silence, comfort, and the warmth of Y/N’s arms, sleep had come in fragments. Every time his eyes closed, he saw that final pinfall. The referee’s hand hitting the mat. The crowd exploding for Cena. And the championship slipping from his grasp again.

It played on a loop in his mind like some cruel joke his subconscious refused to stop telling.

He sat on the narrow bench across from the kitchenette, still in the same hoodie and sweatpants from the night before. His coffee had gone cold in his hands. He hadn’t taken a sip. He just sat there, staring through the tinted windows at the parking lot, numb.

Y/N moved quietly through the bus, giving him space but never straying far. She knew he needed stillness. And when he was ready he’d come to her.

Her phone buzzed on the counter. She glanced at the screen: Bruce from WWE.

She hesitated, then answered softly, stepping toward the back of the bus.

“Hey. Yeah, I’m with him… No, he hasn’t said much. He didn’t sleep… No. I don’t think he’s in the right place to talk tonight, Bruce. I’m sorry.

She listened for a while, her face softening as she nodded. Then, she peeked around the corner of the bus, watching Cody.

“Let me ask,” she said, and approached him gently. “Hey, baby?”

He didn’t respond at first. His gaze didn’t shift from the window.

She crouched next to him, brushing his knee softly. “Raw wants to know if you’ll come in tonight. Just to talk to the fans. Not wrestle. Just… speak.”

He blinked slowly, then let out a bitter, joyless laugh.

“They want me to go out there? Now?” His voice was flat, wounded. “They want me to walk into that arena, look those people in the eyes, and act like I’m okay?”

Y/N didn’t answer right away.

“I can’t do that,” he muttered. “I can’t stand in that ring and pretend to be proud of losing everything I worked for.”

She reached for his hand. “No one’s asking you to pretend. But… they love you, Cody. They still do.”

He looked at her then, eyes rimmed with fatigue and grief. “But what if I don’t love me right now?”

The words hit the air like ice water.

Y/N sat beside him, pulling his hand into her lap, holding it tight. “Then I’ll love you enough for both of us. And when you’re ready to face them, they’ll still be there.”

Cody swallowed hard, his jaw clenching.

“I said I would finish the story,” he whispered. “I told them it would end with me still standing. I made them believe. And I couldn’t do it. What does that say about me?”

Y/N’s voice was soft but certain. “It says you’re human. It says you gave everything you had and still stood tall even when the world took the ground out from under you. That’s what they believed in not just the title, you.”

He leaned forward, pressing his elbows to his knees, his hands now tangled in his hair. “If I go out there tonight, they’ll see it. How broken I am.”

She brushed her fingers down his back, grounding him. “Then let them. Because even broken, you’re still worth loving. Still worth cheering for. And someday, you’ll stand in that ring and finish that story for real.”

Cody shook his head slowly. “I can’t today.”

Y/N didn’t push. She simply nodded and leaned against him.

“That’s okay. Then we take today for us. Just us.”

⸻

Later That Afternoon

Cody hadn’t moved much. He dozed off briefly, his head in Y/N’s lap as she scrolled through her phone. The world was already reacting Cena’s 17th title reign was plastered on every sports page. Headlines. Tweets. Debates. Commentators calling it the greatest moment in Mania history.

But her feed was also full of Cody.

“Thank you, Cody.”

“Still our champion.”

“The American Nightmare forever.”

Y/N didn’t show him the posts, not yet. But she saved them. Every single one.

He woke up slowly, eyes squinting against the filtered sunlight streaming in through the curtains.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Hey.”

He sat up, groaning a little as his muscles protested. For a while, he just stared at the carpet, then looked over at her.

“You didn’t go to Raw either?”

“Nope,” she said softly. “Wherever you are is where I’m supposed to be.”

Cody gave a weak smile. “You’re too good for me.”

“Maybe. But lucky for you, I’m stubborn.”

He chuckled a real one this time. It was faint, but it was there. A crack in the grief. A sign of life.

She stood and offered him her hand. “C’mon.”

“Where?”

“Nowhere big. Just outside. Fresh air. Walk a bit. We can avoid the crowd.”

He took it.

⸻

Evening

They sat on a quiet bench in a grassy corner behind the venue lot, where most people wouldn’t think to look. The hum of Raw happening inside the arena was distant. Just sound and vibration. Not pain. Not pressure.

Cody sat beside Y/N in silence, watching the sun set behind a nearby building. The sky turned orange and pink peaceful, like a painting.

“Do you think they’ll forget about me?” he asked quietly.

“No,” she said without hesitation. “You left a mark. One match won’t erase that.”

He nodded slowly. “Part of me feels like I have to disappear for a while. Just… go off the map.”

She turned to face him fully. “If that’s what you need, we’ll go. Anywhere you want. I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth.”

He looked at her, tears rising again.

“I don’t deserve that kind of love.”

“You do,” she whispered. “And I’m going to keep reminding you until you believe it.”

He broke again. Softer this time. No sobs. Just tears sliding down his cheeks as he nodded and leaned into her shoulder.

And she held him, just like she had the night before. Not trying to fix him. Not trying to rush the healing. Just being there, unwavering.

⸻

That night, they didn’t watch Raw. They stayed on the bus, cooked a simple dinner, and curled up under a blanket. Y/N read him some of the fan tweets. The kind messages. The photos. The ones that said, “We believe in you.”

And for the first time in 24 hours… Cody smiled without sadness.

The loss still hurt. The title was still gone. The story was unfinished.

But maybe it wasn’t over.

Not yet.

And when it was time when he could breathe again he’d rise.

And this time, he wouldn’t be alone.

#cody rhodes #cody rhodes x reader #cody rhodes x you #wwe imagine #codyrhodes #wwe #world wrestling entertainment #wrestlemania #wwe x reader #cody rhodes fanfiction #cody rhodes x oc #cody rhodes imagine #wrestlemania 41

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bouncybongfairy · 1 year ago

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Hiii, could you please do a live action jet x reader smut? Where the reader is a water bender and he meets her when he meets sokka and Katara, she knows hes kind of a bad person but she can't help being into him. You don't have to do exactly that, just a idea!

Rude Boy

Jett x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: Needing to take a break from travel, your group stops to rest in the Earth Kingdom village of Gaipan. After meeting Jett and the Freedom Fighters, you can't help but be charmed by his bad boy persona. He invites you out to the city for a wild night.

Word Count: 1.0k+

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Rough Smut.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You guys had been flying for hours and the sun was starting to go down. Anng decided that they would find somewhere to set up camp for the night. Appa was getting tired so they needed somewhere soon and Gaipan was the nearest village. Nothing seemed off at first, Katara and Sokka were arguing about the most efficient way to set up their tent. Anng made sure Appa was comfortable when Jett and the Freedom Fighters made their appearance. After they explained their disposition, they joined you around the fire. Jett was sitting right next to you, telling these lavish stories of glory and riches. Katara wasn’t impressed by his show boating and was disappointed you weren’t seeing it. After he was out of ear shot, all she could talk about was how he was a bad guy and not to be trusted.

It wasn’t that you didn’t see the signs that he was up to no good. You just didn’t give a fuck. His dominant personality was quite charming. How he didn’t tolerate anything he was unhappy with. You loved everyone in the group and have grown to be like family. However, being happy-go lucky and optimistic all the time was emotionally taxing. As Katara used her water bending to put out the fire, Jett pulled you aside.

“Hey I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come into town with me later tonight?” He asked.

“Oh uh- yeah I think I would be able to sneak away,” you said, looking over to see if anyone was watching.

“Great, I'll meet you here, in an hour or two,” he says while catching up with his group.

You were practically snaking with excitement. For so long, you’d been surrounded with morality and sunshine. You were excited to break away from that, do something that made you feel alive. Laying on your back in the tent, waiting until you felt everyone was actually asleep. Your heart was racing, trying to avoid anything on the ground that could make noise. Jett was waiting for you where he said, resting his hands on the handles of his hook swords. He smiled once he saw you, joking about how he was starting to think you bailed.

“No, not at all! I’m really looking forward to seeing the night life in the city,” you explained.

“Well, I’m excited to show you.” he said, holding his hand out for you to take.

It wasn’t long before the two of you reached the night market he was intent on visiting. It was really nice, several food stands that were making your mouth water. He pulled out a large bag of coins, and made your eyes widen a little. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw that much money in one place. Never giving you a straight answer when you asked how he acquired the money. The mysteriousness was only adding to his bravado. After walking the full length of the market, he took you to a really scenic spot. At the top of a hill, overlooking all the lights in the city. Laying on a bed of soft grass while enjoying the view.

“So how did you really get all that money?” you asked, laying your head against his shoulder; admiring his side profile.

“The less you know the better,” he chuckled.

“It’s okay if it’s bad. I know the group I'm with isn’t the most open minded but the Fire Nation made the world like this. Impossible to survive so why can’t we break a few rules to withstand their wrath you know?” you explained.

“Finally, someone that gets it,” he said, turning to face you.

Your lips were only a couple inches from his. Smelling the alcohol on his breath from a drink he’d gotten earlier that night. Everything about him was just so unacceptable, his attitude, outlook on life and his moral compass was so wrong. You were tired of trying to figure out why that was so intriguing. Shamelessly giving in to your temptations. Wanting to test the waters slowly, you brush your bottom lip against his. In return he melts his mouth into yours. Running his tongue over your lip, grabbing your face with his hands. Breathing hard out your nose, trying to get air in when you could. He rolled on top of you, pressing his pelvis into yours. Starting to kiss and nip at your neck as the two of you rock your hips together. He sits up abruptly, your lips separating with a wet pop sound. Now on his knees, he pulls out his hook swords and tosses them to the side.

For the few seconds he was hovering over you with the blades, your skin prickles with goosebumps. He looked so powerful and menacing, it made you feel hazy. Dropping back down, his hands coming down hard on either side of your head. You flinched a little, which made him chuckle before pulling your top off. Of course, you eagerly help him remove it. Your back arched off the ground as he took one of your nipples into his mouth. Swirling and flicking his tongue while pinching and pulling at the other. Your head falling back against the grass, both mind and body fully engulfed with pleasure. Your clit was aching and feeling yourself getting wetter wasn’t helping.

“Can I ride you?” you asked.

“No, I wanna fuck you until you’re braindead,” he says, flipping you onto your stomach.

Pushing your ass up and grinding against his leaking member. Spreading his pre-cum all over your skin before focusing his tip on your entrance. Teasing for a few moments before burying himself inside your heat. He started rocking his hips slowly, pulling out fully before sliding back in. Biting and sucking hickies on your shoulder. Trying his best not to animalistically pound you into the ground. Moaning every time he fully pressed his cock inside you; his head kissing your cervix every time he snapped his hips. Your head was turned to the side, perfect angle for him to shove two fingers into your mouth. Massaging your tongue and prodding down your throat. Letting out a moaning as you gagged and drooled. Wet slapping sounds came from how hard he was thrusting. Taking his hand out of your mouth and brushing the hair out of your face so he could see your expressions. Spreading your drool all over your face in the process, while making patronizing cooing noises at you. Your body went limp, barely audible uh-uh-uh’s coming out of your mouth. Seeing you turned into a fucked out pile of need was steering him closer to climax. Having no remorse and using your body for pleasure was his only goal. Pounding away at you with such force, your skin was becoming sore and reddened. Pressing his full body weight into you, pulling your hair to expose your neck and biting down as he came. Snapping his hips into you every time he shoots thick ropes of cum into your belly. Grunting and growling into your neck as he rode out his high. He got the two of you semi dressed before passing out where you two laid in the grass. Too fucked out to care about the repercussions and responsibilities that tomorrow holds.

#jett atla live action #jett x reader #jett x y/n #jet atla live action #jet atla smut #jet x y/n #jet atla #jet x reader #avatar the last airbender #netflix avatar #netflix atla #jet avatar #jet avatar smut

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jackoshadows · 22 days ago

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It's weird that in the fandom words like 'Colonizer' are thrown towards only the Targaryens, when, in the books, themes of feudal colonialism, migration and indigenous resistance are explored more explicitly through the characters of Mance Raydar and Ygritte and is a big reason for why Jon Snow unlearns his dehumanization of the Freefolk - 'You know nothing, Jon Snow'.

This is when Jon Snow understands that there are two sides to the story and that he was only taught one version and that the real threat is from the undead and the Others and not the Freefolk.

This conversation between Ygritte and Jon Snow critiques both land grabbing and feudalism with both characters arguing from their own POV:

"Maybe they were tired of fighting. Tired of barring their doors every night and wondering if Rattleshirt or someone like him would break them down to carry off their wives. Tired of having their harvests stolen, and any valuables they might have. It's easier to move beyond the reach of raiders." But if the Wall should fail, all the north will lie within the reach of raiders. "You know nothing, Jon Snow. Daughters are taken, not wives. You're the ones who steal. You took the whole world, and built the Wall t' keep the free folk out." "Did we?" Sometimes Jon forgot how wild she was, and then she would remind him. "How did that happen?" "The gods made the earth for all men t' share. Only when the kings come with their crowns and steel swords, they claimed it was all theirs. My trees, they said, you can't eat them apples. My stream, you can't fish here. My wood, you're not t' hunt. My earth, my water, my castle, my daughter, keep your hands away or I'll chop 'em off, but maybe if you kneel t' me I'll let you have a sniff. You call us thieves, but at least a thief has t' be brave and clever and quick. A kneeler only has t' kneel."

The now more educated Jon Snow later on confronts his fellow crows on their bigotry:

Marsh flushed a deeper shade of red. "The lord commander must pardon my bluntness, but I have no softer way to say this. What you propose is nothing less than treason. For eight thousand years the men of the Night's Watch have stood upon the Wall and fought these wildlings. Now you mean to let them pass, to shelter them in our castles, to feed them and clothe them and teach them how to fight. Lord Snow, must I remind you? You swore an oath." "I know what I swore." Jon said the words. [--] "I am the shield that guards the realms of men. Those are the words. So tell me, my lord—what are these wildlings, if not men?"

Jon's reasoning is unable to move Bowen Marsh's bigotry and deeply held beliefs cultivated over centuries and centuries of racial hatred.

Bowen Marsh said, “Some might call this treason. These are wildlings. Savages, raiders, rapers, more beast than man.” - GRRM, ASoIaF

“Before 1954 magistrates, policemen, barristers, journalists, and legal doctors agreed unanimously that criminality in Algeria was a problem. It was affirmed that the Algerian was a born criminal. A theory was elaborated and scientific proofs were found to support it. This theory was taught in the universities for over twenty years.” - Frantz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth

Ref: Beyond the Wall: Themes of European Migration Politics in ‘A Song of Ice and Fire’

Who was responsible for this dehumanization of the Freefolk over 8000 years? Who upheld the status quo that kept the Freefolk away from lands that they had the right to live on? Who turned the Freefolk into refugees fleeing for their lives and seeking asylum? Who rewrote history to otherize the Freefolk as the villains who are 'Savage' 'barbaric''wild'?

Answer: The Starks.

The North is comprised of one entire landmass with free moving people and the Freefolk were just First Men living in different tribes and clans further North. During the Long Night, the Wall is created by Bran the Builder with the help of the Children of the Forest to defeat the Others and one consequence of this is that it cuts off the people living North of the Wall.

Suddenly these tribes are unable to freely move to the rest of the North, even for some trade, prevented from doing so by a heavily militarized border guarded by soldiers who kill them if they attempt to cross over. Surely, the extreme North with their harsh weather would necessitate some trade with the South, which they are now unable to do. What do they do? They resort to raiding. This further exacerbates the enmity between Freefolk and the North.

From time to time, the Freefolk under a King beyond the Wall attempt to cross the Wall with their people. They try direct attacks to indirectly using underground caves (Gorne's Way) to get to the other side. They are facing off against the might of the Night's Watch and the Starks preventing them from accessing land they have every right to.

This becomes so common place that by the time the story starts in 297/298 AC, the Others and the true purpose of the Wall is forgotten and the Freefolk are seen as the real danger to be defeated, killed and kept away.

This is also why comparisons between the Freefolk and the Ironborn make no sense. The Ironborn, being part of the 7 Kingdoms and even earlier with access to trade and shipping fleets could have flourished as a kingdom without raiding and looting. Even the Vikings only went raiding to conquer, colonize and take land they then farmed and settled down on. The Ironborn meanwhile are just perennial pirates.

The Freefolk on the other hand were a people who were deliberately trapped on the other side of the Wall with no access to the rest of the Westeros. And if they tried crossing over, they were killed. They had no access to the evolving 7K, to new weapons or other developments (Though Westeros seems to have strangely developed very little over 8000 years). This is not even getting into the colonization of the North by the First Men.

I say this because just looking at what little is written about the Starks seems to indicate they have an equally dark history and maybe GRRM was planning on exploring that history when he got to the Long Night 2.0 and the arrival of the Others since those elements are also intrinsically tied to the Starks.

Then there's also the assumption that the Stark Kings of Winter were just given their power and ruled peacefully for thousands of years unlike the violent 'colonizer' Targaryens. Looking at their history, it's anything but.

There's the 'Thousand year War' between house Stark and the Barrow Kings of the Barrowlands.

The wars ended when the last Barrow King submitted to Winterfell and gave his daughter to the Stark king to marry.The barrowlands have since been ruled by House Dustin of Barrowton, bannermen of the Starks who claim descent from the Barrow Kings.

The Starks also responsible for driving different kinds of people out of the North. There's the Giants and the skinchangers:

Ancient ballads, amongst the oldest to be found in the archives of the Citadel of Oldtown, tell of how one King of Winter drove the giants from the North, whilst another felled the skinchanger Gaven Greywolf and his kin in “the savage War of the Wolves,” but we have only the word of singers that such kings and such battles ever existed

How did certain Starks become Wargs? Well, they slaugtered the Warg King and his family and took his daughters as wives:

Chronicles found in the archives of the Night’s Watch at the Nightfort (before it was abandoned) speak of the war for Sea Dragon Point, wherein the Starks brought down the Warg King and his inhuman allies, the children of the forest. When the Warg King’s last redoubt fell, his sons were put to the sword, along with his beasts and greenseers, whilst his daughters were taken as prizes by their conquerors

Even the Children of the Forest were fighting with the Warg King against the Starks. Remember this, Stark kings killed Children of the Forest to take down the Warg King. So those Warg powers the Starks have were also got by violent conquest.

Did they then automatically become Kings in the North with Winterfell as the center? No. They fought wars and took down other houses while land grabbing.

Even this did not give Winterfell dominion over all the North. Many other petty kings remained, ruling over realms great and small, and it would require thousands of years and many more wars before the last of them was conquered. Yet one by one, the Starks subdued them all, and during these struggles, many proud houses and ancient lines were extinguished forever. Amongst the houses reduced from royals to vassals we can count the Flints of Breakstone Hill, the Slates of Blackpool, the Umbers of Last Hearth, the Lockes of Oldcastle, the Glovers of Deepwood Motte, the Fishers of the Stony Shore, the Ryders of the Rills … and mayhaps even the Blackwoods of Raventree, whose own family traditions insist they once ruled most of the wolfswood before being driven from their lands by the Kings of Winter (certain runic records support this claim, if Maester Barneby’s translations can be trusted).

So the Starks were also violent conquerors just like every other single feudal house in Westeros. That's how they were ruling over the North for thousands of years. The Targaryens had the advantage of the Dragons which they used to conquer. If the Starks had dragons they would have used them as well. The current generation seem comfortable using their Direwolves (Robb and Grey Wind) in battle and any feudal house is going to use anything that gives them an advantage. That's all the difference.

With respect to morals and right or wrong, these houses are all pretty much the same.

#asoiaf #House Stark #Freefolk #The North #Jon Snow #Ygritte

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adishovskiy · 1 year ago

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Lucas Iridium refsheet

#my ocs #oc #original character #oc story #two winged earth #illustration #original story #digital art #art #artists on tumblr #character design #character art #ref sheet #character refs #oc refs

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keysnocar · 1 month ago

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we repost just so i can move his etching

@ghotstx HERE im sorry for clickbaiting you here :)

Also I can’t make this up, I literally mixed up ur username w another person so..welcome.? Haha

@ghostbny

Anyway, I'm FINALLY getting time to add to my TF Prime Numbers AU, starting with a little Orion ref/doodle sheet. This mostly helps me get to know what kind of character I'd like this version of him to be. (and ngl the plot has been whooping me idk what's happening or why sometimes :() )

This is Orion! Or, as the other bots know him,"37." (I’ll explain it later gng)

Here, he’s been with the autobots for around four vorns, (since he was just over 13 vorns old.)

His Weapon isn't the familiar star saber or Zeta Prime's Axe. This choice involves his 'childhood', as does his design. I kept his lovable boxyness (well i love it) but made him less detailed, with less armor in general- though specifically around the joints. This is mostly because I wanted him to be a smaller bot, with an emphasis on his agility and flexibility, rather than being a heavy hitter. (at least in his youth.)

The Matrix also has a bit of change in its functionality, use, and importance to the plot.

Both of which I'll expand on in a separate post.

DON'T BE MISTAKEN by my choices in drawing him, he's never without the face mask unless alone.

-------------------------------------------------

The little doodles I have of him are more so to solidify his personality while he's this age range, but this is dependent on what’s going on around him as well. His age has proven to complicate some of my plot, but since he’d bonded with the Matrix at 13, it made sense to me that he’d been gradually reformatted in that short span of time between that and joining the autobots by the Matrix . So he appears much older. (I’ll explain it later gang Ik it’s weird but its important hshgjfhd)

Since taking up residence in the main Autobot Outpost on Cybertron, Orion, or "37" works mostly in solo reconnaissance, scouting territories, or pathfinding for small teams on other kinds of missions. When on base. He focuses on compiling the small amount of data the Autobot faction has managed to gather or receive on any prominent threats.

He ‘moved in’ with the Autobots around an earth year after the ‘ Fall of Gold.’ (as many bots had not-so-fondly begun calling it.) This event being the night that Decepticon forces raided, and then destroyed the large informational hubs of Iacon. This included but was not limited to the Senate Hall, Multiple high class Universities, and the Records tower. To many this marked the true beginning of the war- as the attack and largely successful destruction of such a profound city solidified the danger of the rapidly growing Decepticon movement. After Iacon fell, the other strongholds of the planet have been slow, but surely following.

In his free time, he’s always reading, thinking, filing, sorting, polishing, solving- 'doing' something. there isn't a spare second he's not busying his mind, or if he can't at least manage that, his servos.

Orion is not social in the SLIGHTEST with new bots. (this being all of his Autobot peers) It 100% creeps everyone else out when he attempts to be. (he's got these large, piercing, non-emotive optics that seem to stare past and yet into anyone who's got his attention- and WOW is it an alarming, unreadable, gaze to be caught in if you don't know him well.)

The rare moment or two he does find himself in a conversation about something other than strategy or information he'd gathered- others find his conversation.. lacking at most. It's not that he isn't interested, not at all. It's more so that any personal information he dares to give away may end up doing more harm to his goals among the autobots than good. It sure is a lot easier to keep your origins to yourself, if everyone's too intimidated or put off to speak with you.

It's mostly because of this, that he prefers quietly watching and taking things in, over putting himself into a conversation. It's simply how he's accustomed to and has been taught how to function. Observing and compiling, interpreting and mimicking.

(That being said he is still a ‘teenager’ so it sort of sucks trying to keep himself isolated.)

His more reclusive behavior tends to keep other bots from bothering him. His quietly observant posture and constantly active tendencies often leave the others assuming he's got no time for- or interest in talking.

He sees all of this as a good thing, the first few vorns of living with the bots, as he’s committed to putting all of his focus on figuring out this weird matrix thing. More importantly, keeping the fact that it forced its way onto his spark and won’t come off- a secret. (Not to mention he can’t afford to be distracted by bots he doesn’t entirely trust.)

But considering Commander Magnus and Medical Officer Ratchet have already been looking at him as if trying to remember something they’d once known- he might not be able to make that last.

…let's hope no one puts the pieces together on where he came from before he can figure out how to explain it.

Admittedly, this style has a different feel than the ones I'm accustomed to creating in- and trying to keep the characters to a consistent level of both simplistic and shapey is already proving to be a fun challenge. I’ve been working on this idea for a while, and I have a lot of other little details or broad stories to fill in. PLEASE I can talk and brainstorm about this all day. I've already got a google doc and MAD plotholes.

(Vorn = 83ish earth years, which I use interchangeably with an earth year for easier understanding, because of the long lifespans.)

#transformers #transformers g1 #optimus #orion pax #transformers au #new au idea #prime numbers #optimus prime #digital art #artists on tumblr #fanart #Maybe fan comic soon i hope #prime numbers au

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