#i'm just glaring at everyone and everything

[oliversrarebooks]

a good grade in being brainwashed: wants and needs

Masterlist

tw: pet whump, bbu-adjacent, dehumanization, conditioning, references to drugging, references to dubcon

He was getting a good grade in being brainwashed, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve.

"He seems a little clingy, though."

B211's heart sank into his knees. He knew that was one of the absolute worst things a prospective owner could say about him, the very thing his handlers had spent so much time trying to train out of him. Don't cling. Don't be needy. Be affectionate, but only when your owner desires it. Be silent and still and obedient otherwise.

Don't be needy. Don't need. Don't want. Wants are for people. Your only wish is to please your owner.

He didn't miss the nasty glare that the salesman shot him before putting his customer service smile back on his face. "Yes, this one is very affectionate, which isn't to everyone's taste. Perhaps you'd be more interested in this Romantic…"

B211 fought down the whine in his throat as the customer removed her hand from his chin and walked over to one of the other Romantics, A797. He watched as A797 flawlessly executed each position, all with a smile that was just loving enough without seeming desperate. Just the way they'd all been taught.

God, B211 hated him.

B211 knew he could be the best Romantic in this whole damn showroom, if only he could be given a chance. He'd worked so hard at his training and conditioning, absorbing everything thrown at him, always striving to be the best in the room. He knew his quality -- he was eager to please any sort of master in any way they wished, ready and willing to become whatever they wanted him to be. Their lover, their fantasy, their toy, their shoulder to cry on. He was confident he could do it all.

And yet, here he was, left in the lurch yet another day. If things didn't look up, he'd spend another night in his cold bunk. Another night where his training headphones whispered to him about how much he craved touch and affection. Another day where he had to fight down his cravings so he didn't scare off potential owners. Another failure, another denial.

It was enough to make him want to pull his hair out, if that wouldn't absolutely ruin his appeal.

"I think I'm going to talk to your handler about another course of conditioning. I don't know how it's possible, but you've still got too much willfulness in that head of yours."

B211 scrambled down into a kneel, touching his head to the floor, as soon as he realized that the salesman was addressing him. "My sincere apologies, sir. I will endeavor to do better," he said, reciting one of his hundreds of programmed phrases.

"I can tell when a pet's more concerned with his own needs instead of the customer's," said the salesman disdainfully. "Honestly, you could probably do with another round on the Drip, wash that right out of your head. I think that's what I'm gonna recommend."

"Yes, sir," said B211, his inner elbow twinging with the feel of a phantom needle. He knew very well that he should accept whatever medication, training, or punishment he was given, as it was all to make him a better pet. But he hated the way the Drip made him feel, the way his mind was so slow and dim now, compared to --

No, that wasn't right. His mind had always been slow and dim. That's why he was well suited to being a pet. That's what they'd told him, why he'd signed up. He was slow, and dim, and unable to cope with life, unable to pretend to be a person. So he'd done the right thing and signed up. Instead of an endless cycle of pain and disappointment, he'd receive unconditional love and affection from an owner who truly wanted him. All he had to do was follow his training. Simple instructions. Practice these poses. Recite these mantras. Speak politely. Let go of your wants. Let go of your needs. Be perfect.

That was all he had to do.

He didn't actually remember signing up, of course, because the Drip had erased his memories (how many times). It was best for a pet to not remember (what didn't they want him to remember) so he could be blank and empty for his owner to fill with love (what was he before he was blank).

(was he ever loved)

He shouldn't be thinking those thoughts. That's why he wasn't getting bought. Stupid, stupid.

"Well, B211? Do you have a problem with that?" the salesman demanded, pulling him back to reality.

"No, sir."

"Oh, I think you do. I can tell you have something to say. Out with it."

It was a trap. It was always a trap. He'd fallen into it before, he thought, although his memories of those times were hazy and tinged with pain. "I think whatever you and my handler decide for me would be best, sir."

He was being hauled upwards by his shirt, the salesman glaring down at him. "That's your problem. You shouldn't think. You should just get it right."

B211's mind searched for a better answer. Slow, too slow. "I want whatever training I'm given, sir. I want to be the best possible pet for my owner. I trust in my handlers to make me the best pet I can be."

"Better," he sneered.

The ring of a bell indicated another customer had arrived, sparing B211 the salesman's wrath for now. This particular salesman always liked to take it out on the pets when they weren't selling like he thought they should be.

All he wanted was to be touched and loved. Wasn't that what he had signed up for? He couldn't remember, of course, but that's the only thing it could have been. Why didn't anyone see that? Why didn't anyone pick him?

Maybe the salesman was right. Maybe he should go back on the Drip. He was thinking too much. Of course he was right -- his handlers always knew what was best for him.

"Oh, I'm not sure a Romantic is what I'm looking for, exactly," said a voice that was so strangely familiar. "I don't need -- I mean, I don't really have those kinds of needs."

B211 strained to hear the conversation in the other room, beyond the curtain separating the Romantic showroom from the rest of the pet store. That voice. He didn't know why, but wanted to hear more of that voice.

"There are a lot of unfortunate misconceptions about Romantics, and I'd say that the primary one is that they're only for sex," said the salesman. "That's absolutely not the case -- maybe ten years ago, but modern Romantics are so much more. They actually have much of the same programming as our platonic Companions, and even some Domestic capabilities. They're the perfect choice for a busy man who wants a little love in his life."

"Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to take a look at them…"

The customer pushed aside the curtain leading to the Romantic showroom, and B211's heart stopped.

The man was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark skin and darker curls, and large, sparkling eyes that he could get lost in. He was handsome, very much so, but that wasn't what caused B211's breath to catch in his throat -- he saw many handsome customers. No, there was something about this one that ran deeper than his looks. B211 was seized with an inexplicable, undeniable desire -- this man absolutely had to buy him. This man should be his owner.

(But pets weren't supposed to have desires.)

The customer was staring at B211, too, but not in the way he would prefer. He looked as if he had just seen a ghost.

"Oh, I wouldn't recommend that one," said the salesman. "He's a bit more high maintenance than our other Romantics, and you're looking for a pet that's very independent, right? I'm sure a lawyer doesn't have that much time to spend entertaining a pet, which is why I'm going to recommend this model…"

The customer, the lawyer, let himself be pulled away from B211's case, and B211 was filled with bubbling rage towards the salesman. Something flashed in his mind, a memory, perhaps, of fighting, of kicking and screaming, of having to be held down by four people as the IV was inserted into his arm --

No, that wasn't right. That wasn't right at all. He couldn't hate the salesman, or the handlers, who only wanted the best for him. If the lawyer wasn't a good fit…

He swallowed the lump in his throat. Why was this so important? He'd been passed up by so many people, what was one more to him?

B211 couldn't help but watch the lawyer out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he seemed bored with the other models the salesman was showing him. Distracted. He glanced back at B211, who quickly lowered his eyes to the floor.

"I think I have just the right fit for you!" said a bubbly saleswoman, emerging from the front of the store. She was leading along a man in a slouchy t-shirt and jeans, who was looking around the Romantics showroom in awe, as though he'd never seen so many pets. The saleswoman stopped in front of B211's case. "He's a refurb, so he's available at a discount! He's very affectionate and quite intelligent for a pet."

"Well, he's not bad looking," said this new customer. "Pet, introduce yourself."

B211 snapped to practiced attention. "Hello, sir, my designation is B211, and I'm a Romantic designation with additional Companion training. I enjoy cooking, old movies, and cuddling, and I'm always open to new adventures!"

"Hmm, I'm not sure. He's not really my type. I was hoping for something a little more… demure, do you have anything like that?"

"Certainly, sir, right this way!"

Normally, B211 would be devastated at losing another prospective buyer, but this time, all he could think about was the lawyer. The lawyer who was currently standing in front of the showroom's most expensive pet, being given the hard sell.

"…and he can do anything you want, sir. He'll be there for you when you need companionship, and quiet and out of the way when you need space. He's fully automated and intelligent enough to serve as a personal assistant or run a household. And when it comes to his Romantic skillset… he's very easy to please, and very eager and capable of pleasing others. If this pet is within your budget, I think he'd be the best suited to your needs, sir."

His needs. What were the lawyer's needs? Pets didn't have needs, couldn't have needs. B211 knew he could do whatever that so-called premium model could. But the lawyer probably had more than enough money to go premium, and why would he buy a discounted refurb when he could buy a brand-new luxury model?

"He does seem like an ideal fit…" said the lawyer.

"Would you like to spend a little time with him? I'm sure once you do, you won't be leaving this showroom alone."

"Well… maybe… but I'm still interested in that one. The one I saw when I first came in."

And the lawyer looked straight at B211.

It was impossible, wasn't it? Why would he be interested in B211 when a premium model was an option? Did he actually recognize B211's value? Was that why he'd been so drawn to this man as an owner?

The lawyer walked his way. B211 tried his hardest to read the expression on his face -- an essential skill for Romantics, to be able to read their master's smallest emotions -- but came up short. He couldn't tell what this man was thinking at all.

But his eyes looked kind. And B211 felt…

It was a feeling he couldn't place. It wasn't happy, or aroused, or quiet, or agreeable. B211 suspected it was one of those feelings he wasn't supposed to be having, one that the Drip was supposed to wash out of him.

"Are you sure, sir?" said the salesman, trailing after him. "This one is a refurb, you know. That's why he's on a discount."

"A refurb? Do you know why he was returned?" The lawyer's eyes never left B211.

"Ah, his original owner simply found a new relationship, and was displeased with the amount of attention this Romantic required. He's been wiped of those memories, and we've done our best to train out his unfortunate need for attention, of course, but he'd be a risk compared to our premium models, which can all be customized just for you for only a small additional fee…"

The lawyer wasn't paying attention to the salesman at all as he continued his pitch. He seemed to be weighing something in his mind.

And B211 finally placed what that strange feeling was. Safe. The lawyer made him feel safe. It wasn't something he had felt in training. It was something much older, something he shouldn't remember.

"I want to buy this one," said the lawyer abruptly, cutting off the salesman's patter.

The salesman couldn't hide his shock. "Are you sure, sir? There's no rush. We'd be happy to put a model on hold for you for a small deposit if you'd like more time to make up your mind."

"I've made up my mind. I want this one." The uncertainty on his face from a moment ago was gone, his voice firm. Firm enough that B211 dared to hope.

"If you're certain, then… I'll draw up the paperwork. But keep in mind that we don't accept returns on refurbished pets."

"I won't be returning him."

And the lawyer smiled at B211, actually smiled.

And someone had finally seen him. Someone wanted him. Someone was going to love him.

All he had to do was not screw it the fuck up.

Masterlist

[amirasainz]

Could you please do reader is Charles daughter and she invites her boyfriend to a dinner with the leclercs and her uncles ( some of the grid) and the uncles and Charles are very protective over their baby and reader asked , “ can you pass the salt please daddy” and Charles AND THE BF reach for it. Charles and uncles not happy

No, stop. Why can I imagine something like that really happening? If you guys could send me some requests for Oscar, George, Lewis and Max, that would be amazing.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-XoXo

Leclerc family dinner

The sun was setting over Monaco, casting a golden hue through the large windows of the Leclerc family dining room. YN, Charles and Alexandra's teenage daughter, had invited her boyfriend, David, over for dinner. The table was beautifully set, reflecting the family’s love for tradition mixed with a hint of modern flair.

As everyone gathered around the table, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement. Charles sat at the head of the table, his protective demeanor evident as he glanced at YN with a mixture of pride and wariness. Next to him, Alexandra wore a warm smile, trying to ease the tension that always lingered whenever new boyfriends entered the family circle.

“Are you ready for this, David?” Lando teased, smirking from his seat. “Just remember, we’re not just racing fans; we’re a family of racers. We take everything seriously—especially dinner.”

David chuckled nervously, glancing at YN, who was biting her lip to suppress a laugh. “I’ll do my best,” he replied, trying to sound confident despite the palpable pressure from the Leclerc clan.

“Alright, let’s dig in!” Charles said, gesturing to the lavish spread of pasta, fresh salads, and bread. The meal began with light-hearted banter, but it was clear that Charles and the uncles had a watchful eye on David.

As the meal progressed, YN felt her heart race. She loved having David around, but she could sense her father’s scrutiny. Amidst the laughter and stories, she suddenly realized she needed the salt.

“Daddy, can you pass the salt, please?” YN asked, her voice sweet yet steady.

Both Charles and David reached for the salt at the same time. For a brief moment, silence enveloped the room as they locked eyes. Then, chaos erupted.

Charles narrowed his eyes at David. “Why did you reach for the salt?” he asked, his voice a mixture of disbelief and irritation.

“Uh, I—” David stammered, clearly caught off guard.

��‘Daddy’? Really?” Max chimed in, barely holding back a laugh, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. “I mean, that’s bold, mate.”

“Very bold,” Lando echoed, grinning. “You do realize you’re asking for trouble, right?”

“Guys, come on!” YN exclaimed, her face burning with embarrassment. “It was just a slip!”

Charles turned to David, arms crossed. “So, what’s your excuse? You think you can just react to ‘Daddy’ like it’s no big deal?”

“Uh, I mean, it was just a habit!” David stuttered, looking desperate for an escape. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Alexandra, sensing the rising tension, leaned in to help. “Everyone, let’s take it easy. It was an innocent mistake,” she said, her tone soothing. “David didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

“Trouble?” Carlos scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “It’s not just trouble; it’s a declaration of war!”

“Please, Carlos,” YN sighed, rubbing her temples. “Can we not escalate this?”

Max leaned forward, genuinely intrigued. “So, David, tell us. What were you thinking when YN said that?”

“Yeah, spill!” Lando added, winking. “We need to know if you’re worth our YN or if we should start sharpening our forks.”

“I really wasn’t thinking,” David admitted, his cheeks flushed. “I just… it felt natural? I’m sorry. I'm so so sorry!”

“Natural?” Charles echoed, his brow furrowing. “Natural? In what universe is having your girlfriend call you ‘Daddy’ natural?”

“I think we should all calm down” Alexandra interjected, trying to ease the situation, but even she felt the weight of Charles’s glare. “But maybe we should stick with first names for now?”

Charles huffed, shaking his head. “Exactly! No more pet names under my roof.”

“David,” YN interjected, her voice softer now, “just ignore them. They’re being dramatic.”

“Dramatic? I’m just looking out for you, YN!” Charles shot back, a hint of protectiveness creeping into his voice. “You deserve someone who respects the family.”

“Dad, I know that!” YN replied, her frustration bubbling over. “But I’m not a child anymore. David respects me!”

“Does he, though?” Max teased, crossing his arms, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “This could be the most entertaining dinner ever!”

“Can we just finish dinner without interrogating him?” YN pleaded, her eyes darting from her father to her uncles. “He’s a great guy. Just give him a chance.”

Alexandra put a hand on YN’s arm. “Sweetheart, we’re just trying to look out for you. You know how protective they are.”

David looked at YN, his eyes pleading for support. YN looked at everyone before saying: “I swear I’ll never call him that again. Just please let’s move on.”

Charles sighed, his demeanor softening slightly. “Fine, but we’re not done discussing this.”

“Yeah, not even close,” Lando whispered dramatically to Carlos, who nodded in agreement.

As the meal continued, the laughter resumed, but there was a newfound tension beneath the surface. YN kept stealing glances at David, who was trying to blend in and not draw more attention to himself.

“Hey, David,” Carlos said suddenly, breaking the brief silence, “what’s your favorite race track? Or is that a secret now, too?”

David chuckled, grateful for the change of subject. “I think I’d have to say Monaco, obviously! It’s iconic. But honestly, the atmosphere at Silverstone is unbeatable.”

“Nice choice,” Lando replied, nodding. “But you better be prepared for the Leclerc family charm—or lack thereof.”

“More like the Leclerc family chaos,” Max added with a grin.

“Seriously,” YN murmured to David, her eyes glinting with amusement. “You have no idea what you’re in for.”

“Just promise me one thing,” David said, leaning closer to her. “If this gets any more chaotic, you’ll save me from the crossfire, right?”

“I’ll do my best,” she replied, trying to suppress a smile.

As dessert was served—a delicious chocolate mousse—Charles took a deep breath, finally relaxing. “Alright, David. You’re still on thin ice, but I suppose you can survive the evening… for now.”

The uncles laughed, and the atmosphere shifted again, returning to the warmth that filled the Leclerc home. YN felt a wave of relief wash over her. Maybe they’d all survive this dinner after all.

As the night continued, amidst playful banter and the clinking of cutlery, YN couldn’t help but think that while her family might be a bit overprotective, it was all rooted in love. And maybe, just maybe, David would become a part of this chaotic, wonderful family after all.

[runariya]

I am in love with that Jk merman story of yourssss , you are such a talented author !!!! Keep it up with the good work .

Even i want to request a prompt after that story because i believe only you have the capability to bring that prompt to life (only if you want to write ofcourse, no pressure )

I have never read an ABO fic with enemies to lovers troupe in modern era , I mean just imagine them being the high-school academic rival wolves who can't bear standing eachother

but the moment they turn 18 and their wolves will develop some special senses and powers, they both will realise that they both are actually mates . damnnn now image the strong pull their wolves will feel towards eachother making them go crazy ( their wolves will fall in love with eachother the moment they will recognize eachother as mate and start rebelling their human counterparts and start convincing them to love eachother too .)

and how bad they will try to hide it , deny their wolves forbid their animal counterparts from eachother only to fail miserably in the end because yeah that mate bond will win 🥹

You can choose any BTS member you want because I love and enjoy reading all seven of them so go for any member you want .

Borahae 💜 , no pressure if you are not interested in writing this prompt , I will still adore you and your work 💜 😘 so feel free to reject this request if you want .

part of the prompt game pairing: alpha!Jungkook x omega!female reader genre: fantasy!AU, "E"2L, ABO, high school romance warnings: Jungkook's the most pitiful teenager in all of existence, bad handling of emotions/feelings, a lot of cliques, denial, a little bit of physical fighting, mentions of blood, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 2.754

a/n: tysm for all your compliments, I'm so flattered 🫂 I've tweaked your request a tiny bit to fit the character of OC better and left out marking etc. bc they're still so young 🥹 hope that's okay 💕

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He hates you.

No, he loathes your entire existence.

That Miss Perfect attitude, excelling in everything you do as if it’s the easiest task in the world. You’ve been enemies since high school started—not because either of you declared it so, but because Jungkook simply can’t stand you.

You, on the other hand, are oblivious to this feud, always kind and friendly towards everyone, especially Jungkook. He doesn’t understand how you do it, staying so humble and kind towards him when he takes every opportunity to throw jabs your way, or cause you minor inconveniences, like not holding the door open or letting you trip more times than he can count.

It’s infuriating to watch you be so lovely, especially when you’re not only the smartest but also the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen—something he will never admit. Ever.

“Jungkook?” Your soft, sweet voice startles him. He’s been too busy glaring at the papers scattered before him, his thoughts circling back to you. There's no one else in the lecture hall, and he didn’t even realise you’d entered. You seem to appear out of nowhere, catching him off guard. “I think you dropped this.”

You’re smiling again, that blinding smile of yours, starry eyes sparkling with joy, courteous as ever. He wants to scream. He doesn’t want this treatment from you, not when you’re a little older than him—well, only two months, but still. You’re 18 now, with your wolf, while he’s not, which only deepens his resentment. Once again, you’re ahead, better at something.

The whole school talked about your wolf. Despite your gentle nature, everyone was shocked to learn after your first turn that you’re an omega—one of the very few in the city, the only one known in school. It’s yet another thing Jungkook can’t stand, especially now that everyone, wolf or not, showers you with attention.

“Not mine,” Jungkook lies through his teeth, eyeing the pencil still held out towards him in your small, delicate hand, your nails perfectly manicured.

“Oh…” you murmur, glancing down at the pencil, your brows drawing together in disbelief. Of course, you don’t believe him. “But it’s got your initials, and it’s the one you’re always using.”

Damn you! Of course, you know it’s his favourite. He should’ve seen this coming.

“You think I’d use it after your germs have contaminated it?” Jungkook scoffs.

“That’s not very kind.” You purse your lips, those beautiful lips.

“It’s the truth, ___.”

“Is it okay if I keep it?”

What?! “What?” Jungkook can’t believe his ears. Why would you want to keep it?

“Can I keep your pen? It would be a waste to throw it away, especially when it looks so cool.” You repeat, smiling again.

The pencil is cool, and Jungkook has half a mind to just snatch it back, but he won’t give in. He won’t concede even the smallest defeat.

“I don’t care,” he grumbles. It’s enough to make you burst with joy, your face lighting up as you clutch the pencil to your chest.

“Thanks, Jungkook! You’re so kind!”

“Whatever.”

And ‘whatever’ indeed, because seeing you every day with his pencil, as if it’s the most precious thing in the world, drives him mad. He regrets his decision. He wants it back. It’s his, and what’s his should stay his, but it isn’t—and it makes him livid.

Livid in a way that fuels his pettiness, pushing him to new lengths to make your life difficult. He puts fake spiders in your bag, bumps into you when you’re struggling with your food tray in the canteen. But all of it is in vain, because you’re an omega—everyone’s darling. Every time something inconvenient happens to you, a horde of people rushes to your aid.

This alone is enough to make Jungkook reconsider his actions—or rather, the attention he’s giving you. It’s not like you care. It’s not like you treat him any differently when he’s mean. So what’s the point? At some stage, he’s not even sure why he started all this, why he loathes you so much. If he’s honest, you’ve never actually wronged him. Not once. And now, he’s running out of ways to break you, to show everyone your true colours, because no one can be this perfect, right?

It’s the Friday before his birthday weekend when you approach him again, this time holding a small present. You look up at him as he stands by his locker.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you say softly.

“What do you want?”

“Uhm, I know Sunday’s your 18th birthday and… well, I know you didn’t invite me to your party, which is totally fine! Don’t get me wrong! But I just wanted to give you this because it’s a big birthday, right? So, yeah…”

The tiny gift is wrapped in floral paper with a neatly tied bow, and it looks exactly how he imagined your presents would. It screams 'you', and he’s unsure what to say. He reckons he should just take it and thank you, but the way you’re looking up at him, so small and kind despite knowing you weren’t invited, bothers him like a sock slipping off mid-walk.

Jungkook reluctantly takes the present, ignoring the slight relieved droop of your shoulders and how your warm, soft fingers brushed softly against his.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, his eyes transfixed on the gift.

“Happy birthday, Jungkook. I hope it’ll be everything you wanted and beyond.”

And with that, you turn away, a light spring in your step, your hair moving behind you like a fairy’s wings.

Jungkook doesn’t waste any time after you leave, ripping the gift open in a rush of curiosity, only to freeze, stunned, when a tiny jewellery box is revealed to him. He’s never received any jewellery before, and the fact that it’s a gift from you—a female ‘stranger’, no less—makes his nerve endings prickle with discomfort. The idea of receiving something so personal feels wrong somehow, and yet, despite this strange feeling creeping over him, he still finds himself opening the small red box.

Inside, nestled on an equally red velvet cushion, is a delicate necklace with a pendant that bears his initials. It’s the prettiest necklace he’s ever seen, and the worst part is that he can already picture himself wearing it, the style so perfectly matching his aesthetic that it’s rather unsettling.

He carefully takes the necklace from the box, letting it twist and turn in the sunlight, the metal gleaming ever so mesmerising. But that’s when he notices an engraving on the back of the pendant, and as he peers closer, he fights the urge to rub his eyes.

You’ve had ‘alpha’ engraved onto it. There’s no way anyone could be so bold as to assume another person’s future rank, and yet here you are, making such an assumption about him. Jungkook can’t help but think maybe he was right all along—there’s something strange about you. You’re just a little too perfect, a little too confident in your kindness, a little too bold in your presumptions.

Shaking his head, he lets the necklace fall back into the box, snapping it shut and tossing it carelessly into his locker, fully intending to forget about it sooner or later. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Saturday night and Sunday come and go in a blur of noise, people, and anticipation. Jungkook has invited practically everyone he knows to his birthday party, hoping that with the arrival of his wolf, his mate might finally be revealed as well. But no one who attends is his mate, and this realisation drags his mood dangerously low. He feels a nagging stab in his chest that he can’t shake, made even heavier by the recurring thought that you, little Miss Perfect, were right all along—Jungkook has become an alpha, just as you predicted. Typical.

What infuriates him even more is that on Monday morning, as you—like always—walk past his locker on your way to the lecture hall, the world seems to slow around him. He watches in disbelief as you suddenly stop, staring at him with wide eyes that shimmer with unshed tears. You look stunned, but more than that, you look happy, as though you’ve just discovered something wonderful. And then, in the midst of his confusion, his inner wolf starts to go wild, barking ‘mate’ over and over again, leaping with excitement inside him.

It should be a moment of joy, a moment where he feels relief and happiness in finally knowing who his mate is. But instead, all Jungkook feels is denial, a desperate refusal to accept the truth, even though, deep down, he knows that you’re everything he ever wanted in a mate.

Still, he turns away from you, ignoring the way your face crumples, the way your bright, hopeful tears turn into ones of sadness, the way you rush past him with your head down, leaving his wolf whimpering in confusion and hurt. Jungkook tries to convince himself that this can’t be real, that it can’t be right, even though every part of him knows it’s exactly what he wanted, what he’s been waiting for.

In the days that follow, he struggles to keep up his usual routine of tormenting you, making snide remarks whenever he gets the chance, but there’s no joy in it anymore. You’re not kind to him the way you used to be, not anymore. You don’t smile at him, don’t even really smile at anyone; instead, you accept his cruelty with a resigned, sad look in your eyes and a forced, brittle smile that never quite reaches your eyes.

Each day, it becomes harder and harder for Jungkook to suppress his wolf, who clearly isn’t on the same page with his cold treatment of you. His wolf growls at him, restless and unhappy, frustrated with the way things are. And Jungkook knows—he understands why—but he feels trapped.

How could he possibly make things right after all he’s done to you? How could he ever redeem himself after letting his bitterness and resentment carry him so far? It doesn’t help that the necklace you gave him is now tucked securely under his shirt, the cool metal pendant resting against his chest, near his heart, multiplying the ache that’s slowly but surely forming there as well. He fiddles with it absentmindedly, the action soothing in a way he can’t explain, though it only makes the guilt grow.

“Jungkook?”

He no longer startles when you appear, his wolf always sensing your presence before you even speak, and your voice has become so quiet, so broken, that it doesn’t have the same effect it once did.

Looking at you now, standing there with your eyes downcast and your voice soft, makes him wish he could take it all back—every harsh word, every petty action. He wishes he could go back and rewrite everything, build something good between you instead of tearing it down. But it’s too late for that, far too late, and he knows it.

When he doesn’t respond, you gather the courage to continue, your voice wavering slightly. “I know it’s random, but I noticed your grades haven’t been as good as they used to be. I know you’re not the kind of person who needs help, but… if there’s anything I can do, just let me know, yeah?”

He wants to snap at you, wants to push you away, but he’s so exhausted—exhausted from pretending he doesn’t care, exhausted from pretending he hates you, and most of all, exhausted from fighting this undeniable bond between you.

Tears prick at his eyes, overwhelming him with guilt, frustration, and something else he can’t quite name. He’s so fed up with himself, so trapped in the mess he’s made that he doesn’t know how to fix it, doesn’t even know where to start.

“Hey… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” you say, your voice tinged with panic now as you shift nervously on the spot, your hands reaching out towards him only to pull back, unsure of what to do. “I’m sorry…”

“Stop!” Jungkook yells, and the sound of his own voice surprises him. You flinch, your entire body recoiling as if he’s physically struck you, your trembling hands clasping tightly in front of you.

“I… I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers, and before Jungkook can say anything else, you turn and run, disappearing down the hall, leaving him standing there with the misery of his guilt pressing down harder than ever.

To think it couldn’t get worse was the stupidest thought Jungkook ever had, because it got worse. Not only did his little outburst suffocate him in guilt, but it also made you avoid him every chance you got. It also didn’t help that most people noticed your changed persona, adding one plus one and recognising Jungkook as the culprit.

He doesn’t fault them, doesn’t really mind the insults coming his way, of being heartless for not wanting a mate like you, when he knows they speak the truth. He doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve someone who he clearly hurts without a true reason.

And the way his inner wolf retreats now from him too, is something he understands as well, because there’s literally nothing he could do to mend what he’s broken.

It’s one afternoon after classes have just finished, and he’s walking out of the school when he notices you cornered against the wall by some other alphas, three in total. Jungkook’s immediately enraged, and it’s then that his wolf rises to full strength, baring his teeth and growling violently.

You’re clearly uncomfortable, clearly scared of what might happen, especially when one of these alphas gets in your face, giving you no way to escape. The last straw for Jungkook is when one runs his filthy finger along your beautiful face.

“Hey!” Jungkook roars, storming towards the alphas who have now turned to laugh in his face. “Back off.”

“What?! She’s fair game.” One mocks, while you’re still pressed against the wall, but your eyes are hopefully locked onto Jungkook.

“I said back off my mate.”

They do, but only to now lunge at Jungkook, thinking that outnumbering him will shoo him away. But it doesn’t—Jungkook won’t let anyone else touch you, his wolf and himself ready to do anything to protect you. And so, Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to take each one of them down.

Driven by adrenaline, he doesn’t notice the sting of the hits he couldn’t block, but it’s nothing compared to the urge to protect you with all he has, all he is.

One after the other falls to the floor, while blood trickles from his split lip, knuckles burning and swollen, his chest still heaving, his wolf still angrily jabbing at the air.

“Jungkook?” His eyes snap up to you when you call for him, and he’s relieved to find no repulsion or fear in them when they lock onto him.

“Are you okay?”

“Thank you,” you nod, and his wolf wags his tail, barking mate, deafening all his other senses.

“Good."

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?”

You hesitate, and it makes him feel powerless all over again, but eventually you whisper, “Because I’m not who you wanted.”

It’s broken, it’s defeated, and it’s everything he never wanted his mate to say, because it’s not the truth. Never was. Never will be.

“But you are.” Jungkook tries to smile, despite knowing it’s not hopeful or kind, but sad in all the ways his decisions led it to be.

“I am?”

Seeing your eyes gradually returning to their lively, sparkly self is more than he ever wished to witness, more than he ever should receive, but everything he ever wanted.

“You are. Always were.”

And with that, he opens his arms, stepping over the still-groaning alphas to get closer to you.

With a push off the wall, you sprint into Jungkook’s arms, tears of relief running down your cheeks as he embraces you like you wished he would from the start. But it doesn’t matter, because no time apart could ruin the feeling of him embracing you and your bond.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook mumbles into your hair, inhaling the magnificent scent of you.

“It’s fine, everything’s fine.”

And as you cling to him, your wolves finally as content as you are, you know that you’d never change a thing, because it’s better to be loved willingly than with no other choice.

[fanficimagery]

Joining the Biz.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Live on Raw)

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

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

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

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

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

(End of segment broadcast.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You need anything?"

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

"You mean you didn't watch?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. .

. .

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

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

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

(Live on Smackdown)

The fight turns brutal fast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(End of segment broadcast.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hell no."

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

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

You shrug. "It's good."

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

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

. .

. .

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

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

(Live on Smackdown)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What the hell are you smilin' about?"

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

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

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

"Need a hand?"

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

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

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

(End of segment broadcast)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. .

. .

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

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

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

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

"Hell yes," Liv muses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, we will," Jey muses.

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

"You better kick some major ass, girl."

"Don't worry, I will."

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

"Goddammit, Reigns."

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

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

(Live on Raw)

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

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

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

USO!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THIS IS AWESOME, the crowd chants over and over.

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

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

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

"Don't do it!"

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

"No! That's enough."

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You got a cut by the temple."

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

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

"Need a medic?" His voice rumbles.

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

"Chicken tenders and ranch?"

"You know it."

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

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

Roman merely smirks and continues to walk you backstage.

(End of segment broadcast.)

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

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

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

Both Damian and Rhea chuckle.

"Never touch the tendies," she muses.

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

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

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

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

Rhea smiles evilly and they cut the segment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Happy birthday, prima."

"Go away, Dom."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Rhea," you groan.

"Nope. Up."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. .

. .

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course, but I missed you."

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

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

"You two are disgustingly adorable," Rhea muses.

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

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

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

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

"Good idea, uce."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

@enterusername: Te amo, bebe.

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

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

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

[cartoonsinthemorning]

I really like your marchil and stancest arts! Do you have any opinions on toudencest (laios x falin)?

Thank you so much! Anon, let's officially connect the suspicious dots, because I ship Toudencest hard, and I do have, in fact, a lot of opinions. Most likely, the unpopular kind. But before I go into my deranged details rant, here, have a sketch.

Ok, let's go! Laios and Falin have the BEST relationship in Dunmeshi. They understand each other like no other does. It was used as a gag, but: the party getting mad at Laios for saying 'hadn't Falin got eaten, they would have never savored the delicious exorcism sorbet'...and Laios thinks to himself Falin would had understood what he meant-- OOHHH that hit my heart so hard!! That scene meant so much to me! It's TRUE. Everyone, even his friends, misunderstand Laios constantly. But Falin would understand him. It's beautiful. It moves me. Another thing that shakes me to the core: Falin is the only one showing genuine excitement about Laios' passions, interests and discoveries. Like, what I mean is, Senshi does share with Laios an interest about making monster's edible, and later on basically everyone in the story gets mind-boggled about how useful Laios' bizarre knowledge can be- BUT! she is the only one that geeks out with him about monsters. And not out of functionality. No, she's genuinely excited about him sharing new knowledge with her. When she's brought back to life and Laios tells her about monster-eating, her first reaction is basically jumping up and down, overjoyed.

And this is so downplayed. How similar they are, in this regard, I mean. Because most people portray Falin as a poised, soft-spoken normal girl, who's got this unhinged monster-fucker as a brother- ahah- and they seem to forget she is HIGHLY weird too, that her interest and methods are VERY unconventional too! Did people miss the flashback episode showing how she did homework in magic school, basically going into wild, forbidden areas to be in direct contact with the creatures living in there, even if it's considered dangerous, almost blasphemous? COME ON, Laios and Falin share the same approach, no wonder they are best friends! People tend to downplay it, I think, because Laios is the one getting gag-worthy reactions from people- getting yelled at, glared at, etc. But in fact, Falin is just as weird as he is. And it's so sweet how that brings them together, even when they are apart... I also think the fandom largely downplays how much of a bro-con Falin is: she was so clingy as a child lmao, but seriously, she was heartbroken when Laios left home without her- and the thing is, you would expect, after she grew up some more and went to study magic, things would change, her priorities would change. BUT NOOOO, no Sir: Laios pops into her life again years later out of the blue and she drops everything to run away with him. GOD that's so ROMANTIC, she is in LOVE, she is down SO BAD for Laios. What would I give for a detailed fan fic about their travels alone together. Sigh. I think I'm gonna end it here because I went well off the rails-- BUT ONE MORE THING!!! When she was a child and she SO PROUDLY bragged how good her brother is at imitating a dog's bark. God. God my heart. her love is so sweet so precious so immaculate so pure. Ok now I'm done for real byeeeee

[jelzorz]

Oh boy oh boy if you're taking ficlet requests, how about Opeli making sure Soren doesn't collapse of exhaustion while he's supervising rescue efforts and providing aid in the aftermath of Sol Regem's attack?

193.

It's all kind of a blur afterwards. Soren chalks it up to being exhausted from, well, everything, but it's not like there's been time to rest between it all anyway. There are too many wounded, too many dead, too few supplies to share between the too many refugees, and he has enough to deal with without the grief creeping along the edges of his mind, waiting for him to feel it and to process it on top of everything else. The physical labour is hard, but he's used to that. The emotional labour...

Well. It can wait.

So he heads out to the castle ruins with different groups of soldiers and volunteers to salvage what little they can. He moves rubble and bodies and supplies, helps pitch tents and herd children, tends to the wounded with the limited training he has. He's worn thin and he knows this. He hasn't slept for more than a couple of hours since the attack and he knows this too. He knows because Opeli keeps telling him to rest and Corvus keeps telling him to sleep and they're just as tired as he is, but neither of them stop, so why should he?

It's been a week. A little more he thinks, but he doesn't really know because the days have started to bleed to into each other and the rise and fall of the sun doesn't really mean anything in light of everything that's going on. He knows that the others had all come back the morning after the attack, and he knows Ezran had given the order to move everyone to the Banther Lodge after a couple of nights at the temples, but beyond that, all Soren knows is the ache in his muscles and the precarious uneven rhythm of his next step, and the one after, and the one after that.

He's sitting by the fire tonight. There's a pile of damaged armour beside him that he doesn't really know how to repair but the blacksmith didn't make it and the Banther Lodge works, but they're still sitting ducks out here. Damaged armour won't do them any favours. There's no room to lose anybody else. He's fixing the leather in a bracer when they find him, Corvus and Opeli, both tired, both weary, both obviously concerned.

"'Sup," greets Soren absently.

Corvus and Opeli glance at each other.

"We've been ordered to rest," says Corvus.

Soren snorts. "How's that going for you?"

Opeli twitches her lips. "I can't refuse an order from the king," she says drily, "but more importantly, neither can you."

Soren pauses in his work and raises an eyebrow.

"You need to rest," says Corvus, taking the bracer from him and shoving the pile of armour over with his foot. He takes a seat next to him without waiting for an invitation and Opeli does the same on his other side, already frowning at the bandage she'd placed over the cut on his forehead.

"You've split your stitches again," she says, her disapproval obvious.

"I'm fine," mutters Soren. He tries to snatch the bracer back but Corvus holds it purposefully out of reach.

"You need to rest," says Corvus again, tossing it back into the pile and kicking the whole stack of it further away. "We all do," he adds pointedly to Opeli, who wrinkles her nose petulantly and draws her knees to her chest.

"I'm not arguing," she mutters. "But whether or not we do relies on Soren, doesn't it?"

Soren stares at them both. Corvus actually smirks.

"We made a deal with Ezran," he says somewhat smugly. "I don't need a break—"

"Yes you do," snorts Opeli.

"But I wouldn't take one unless Opeli took one—"

"And I won't take one unless you do." Opeli gives him a look then, her usual stern-faced glare laced with something stubborn and a little sour, but something hopeful too: an opportunity to rest mandated by someone else that she won't feel guilty for taking. "So whether or not we get to take a break is up to you, really," she says.

Soren pauses. Then he scowls at them both. "That's a dirty trick."

"It's pretty fair actually," says Corvus, stretching out beside him. "You need to rest, Soren. If not for yourself, then for the people who care about you."

"And you do have people who care about you," says Opeli. "You must know that."

There's another pause. Corvus leans into him on one side and, hesitantly, Opeli does the same on the other, their warmth a comfort against the evening cold, their weight a ward against the feelings he isn't quite ready to feel.

He doesn't remember closing his eyes, but when he opens them, it's dawn. The morning is quiet. The fire is out. Corvus has shifted so that his head rests on Soren's shoulder and Opeli has tucked herself under his arm in her sleep. The blanket draped over them is scratchy but warm.

Soren lets himself go back to sleep.

[sissylittlefeather]

A House That Has Everything: Chapter 2

A/N: Chapter 2 of my new series! This one came to me when I saw these amazing AI photos on Instagram made by @blackvelvetep and @_chiara975ep. (Be sure to check out their pages on Instagram!) My fic brain went crazy and this storyline was born.

Set in Regency England, Mr. Presley is the gentleman who owns and resides in Graceland Manor. Annabelle Martin is his newest maid after her parents have died and left her an orphan. Can he resist his affection for her, despite the difference in their social class?

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, masturbation (male), imagining some sexy things

Word count: ~2.4k

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

Mr. Presley sighs and turns from the window. Will the responsibility of this new life never end?

******

After two weeks in her new position, Annabelle has settled into a new normal at Graceland Manor. It's not one she particularly likes or enjoys, but it's a routine at least. She's finally learned what her responsibilities are and how to do all of them. She's also met everyone in the house and learned who is worth talking to and who isn't. The other maids are not. They're both young and experienced and spend most of their time making snide comments and whispering about her. The cook, Mrs. Hall, is her favorite person, so far. She has a warm, welcoming air about her that makes Annabelle feel at home even in the big house that has no other home-like feeling. She hasn't talked to her much, but she likes her best of all anyway. And the handsome footman that answered the door when she first arrived is the cook’s son. His name is Jimmy and he's been nothing but cordial, albeit maybe a little too friendly. Most everyone else is nice enough, but she doesn't have a real companion among the group.

One of Annabelle's jobs is tending the fires in every room each morning. This means she's up before dawn every day. She doesn't enjoy that part, but it's actually quite nice to move about the house while everyone else is still asleep. Her favorite room is the library, which doubles as Mr. Presley’s private study. She never has much time to spend in there, but she does take a few minutes occasionally to look around at the books, even glancing at his desk a couple of times. He's a mess. There are papers stacked and sticking out of piles everywhere. She's not sure why, but she finds this a little endearing, even if she has sworn to hate him.

About 3 weeks after her first day, Annabelle walks into the library purposefully, ready to light the fire and try to look at the books a little. She's startled when she realizes there is a candle burning and someone sitting at the desk. There's only one person it could possibly be, so she tries to back out of the room as quickly as she can, but she hits the doorframe and it makes a loud thud. He immediately turns and stands up and she gasps.

Mr. Presley has an imposing presence even when he's not angry, so he feels almost terrifying when he is. He glares at her and Annabelle is overwhelmed with the desire to melt into the carpet.

“Where have you been?! It's freezing in here.” She shakes her head and stumbles over her words.

“I-I I'm sorry-”

“There's no excuse.” His eyes are wild and red-rimmed like he's either been crying or hasn't slept or both and his hair looks like he's run his hand through it about a thousand times. Annabelle recognizes the look of distress and her fear turns to compassion.

“Did you… have you been in here all night?” She asks in a small voice. He's obviously disarmed by the fact that she hasn't just run away from him.

“What?”

“You look like… have you slept?” She chances a step towards him and his imposing presence seems to shrink a little.

“That is none of your business! Just light the fire and get out!” He spits at her and turns away. She walks over to the fire and tends to it quickly.

As she works at the fireplace, he turns back and watches her. There was a hint of something in her voice that he hasn't experienced from anyone other than the Mrs. Hall in a very long time. Could it have been kindness?

He softens a bit as he watches her at the fireplace. Her shoulders are delicate and graceful as she works and he has the thought again that she wasn't built for this kind of hard labor. He feels an insane desire to help her, to take the task of making the fire and do it for her, but that would be inappropriate on every level. Still, something about her makes him want to throw propriety out the window and care for her the way men do in stories about knights and ladies. He's lost in this reverie when she finishes and stands up, turning back to him.

Annabelle is shocked to find him watching her when she turns away from the fire. He moves quickly to look somewhere else, but for half a second she could've sworn his expression was gentle.

“Are you finished?” He hisses, not looking at her.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Get out. Be earlier tomorrow.” His attempt to put her in the right place in his mind comes out as unnecessary coldness.

“Yes, sir.” Annabelle whispers and goes to walk from the room. But at the door, she pauses and turns back.

“You could tell me… why you haven't slept… if you wanted. No one would listen even if I tried to tell them your secrets.” For a second, he meets her eyes and the warmth he finds there soothes an ache he didn't even know he had. And then he remembers himself.

“OUT.” He tries to yell, but falters the tiniest bit. She nods and leaves the room.

Falling into the nearest chair, Mr. Presley sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose. She's right that he hasn't slept. He's been holed up in the study trying to make sense of some documents since last night. Somewhere around 3am, the frustration had turned to grief and he cried for an hour or so. He was making his way back to frustration when she came in.

Why had he responded to her kindness with such cruelty? He knows the answer but isn't ready to face the reality of it.

******

In the next room, Annabelle sits in front of the fireplace crying quietly into her apron. She's so lonely and tired of the harshness with which she's treated here. There's not even anyone she could tell about her struggles. She's alone.

And why had she tried to connect with him? Not only is he a gentleman, he's her master, and not a very nice one at that. But something about him and his emotional state touched her and she felt compelled to offer herself in some way. And for no discernible reason whatsoever, his rejection hurts worst of all.

She starts to cry big, heaving sobs, knowing they're audible but no longer caring. Let them get rid of her. Maybe she could leave this miserable place and let Mr. Presley light his own fires.

******

On his way to bed, Mr. Presley hears the unmistakable sound of a woman crying coming from the drawing room. He walks quietly to the door and peeks through the crack.

The new maid.

His heart shatters when he hears the depth of her despair as she sobs. She's probably crying because he was so hateful. He lightly puts his fingertips on the door to push it open and go to her. Then he stops. It takes everything inside him to turn from the door and leave her there crying.

******

When Annabelle gets back downstairs, the kitchen is bustling with activity. Mr. Presley is entertaining later that evening, so Mrs. Hall is in a tizzy getting everything ready. Most days she does just fine by herself since she's only cooking for one man upstairs and the help downstairs, but when he entertains, she wishes she had some help. Annabelle wanders through despondently and perches on a bench.

“Love, don't you have something else to do?” Mrs. Hall asks, sweat running down the side of her face.

“Not really. I've done all my morning work already.” Annabelle kicks the floor with the toe of her shoe. She's still having to work to keep from crying.

“Get over here and help me, then. I'm assuming you know how to peel and chop.”

“Yes ma'am. I did all the cooking when I lived with my… my parents.” Her voice catches in her throat and Mrs. Hall stops and actually looks at her with her red little nose and tear-stained face.

“Love, what's got you upset?” Mrs. Hall asks as Annabelle washes her hands and takes some potatoes to peel.

“Nothing, ma'am.”

“Call me Gladys, dear.” Annabelle shakes her head.

“Oh, I could never.” Mrs. Hall laughs.

“Even Mr. Presley calls me Gladys sometimes.” Annabelle looks up at her in shock. That's far more interesting than her troubles.

“May I ask why?”

“Sure you can. I practically raised that boy. His mother passed trying to birth his twin and I had Daniel who was nearly the same age. Colonel Presley was lost for a good while after the mistress died and he paid very little attention to his son. The nanny they'd hired wasn't a very nice woman and Elvis- I mean Mr. Presley- used to spend most of his time hiding from her down here with me. He played with my boys and I taught him to cook and play the pianoforte. He's almost like a son to me, despite the difference in station.” Annabelle’s eyes widen with Mrs. Hall’s words. She tries to imagine a young Mr. Presley running through the kitchen, learning to cook and playing with servant boys. But more than the image of him as a child, it's the look that Mrs. Hall has when she talks about him that surprises her. It's a look of deep respect and love. She wonders how long it's been since Mrs. Hall has spoken with him. Maybe he has changed. “Now why don't you tell me what's got you so troubled.”

Annabelle looks down at the potato she's peeling and decides that she needs someone more than she needs to keep her own secrets.

“It's funny you mention Mr. Presley.”

“Why, love?” Annabelle sighs.

“He's the reason I was upset. Well, not the whole reason, but kind of the last thing I could handle. No one here has been very kind to me, him least of all.” Mrs. Hall nods and smiles.

“Hm. He likes you.” Annabelle looks at her with her face scrunched in shock.

“No, he does not. I assure you.”

“He likes you and he knows he shouldn't. He's trying to keep you at arm’s length.” Annabelle shakes her head.

“How do you know? Maybe he hates me?”

“If he hated you he wouldn't speak to you at all. I know my boy. He likes you.”

“No, I'm sure that's not it.” Annabelle continues peeling potatoes in silence, but her heart is pounding. Why does the prospect of Mr. Presley liking her make her knees weak?

******

That evening, Mr. Presley has several friends over for dinner. They eat and play cards and have cigars and brandy and recount their most recent adventures in London. His closest friend, Mr. Jasper Davies, asks what everyone else is wondering.

“When will you be married, then?” They're not eager to lose the company of their bachelor friend, but they know the expectation now that he's the master of a great house.

“I have no designs on marriage anytime soon.” Mr. Presley answers, knowing this won't be realistic for very long. He'll have to marry sooner rather than later. Still, he's never found any particular young lady of his station that he liked well enough to marry. There had been one girl, an actress, that he had loved quite a bit before he joined the army, but she was not a viable partner for him. None of the ladies of the county interested him and he found most of them to be rather one-dimensional and boring.

The conversation about marriage continues, but Mr. Presley has a hard time focusing. For some reason, the new maid enters his mind. He thinks about her slender white hands, too delicate for the work she does. And the way her uniform follows her curves down to her waist and then hides the rest. What he wouldn't give to be able to see her legs and feet unobstructed. He lets his imagination go even further and suddenly a picture of her naked and sprawled on his bed appears. His cock twitches in his pants and he has to adjust and clear his throat to bring himself back to reality. That's a thought he cannot have, especially not in present company.

Eventually, everyone retires to one of the many bedrooms in the house. Mr. Presley stops briefly in the library with the vague hope that the maid might be there. Of course she's not, but the brandy he's had makes his logic a little faulty. He makes it back to his bedroom where his valet undresses him and puts him in bed.

It's not long before he realizes he's staring at his fireplace, imagining the maid on her knees in front of it. This image is quickly replaced by an image of her on her knees in front of him. He curses himself for the inappropriate images in his head and the way his dick hardens at the thought of her, but he can't stop his hand from finding himself under his nightshirt. She's so pretty and kind and graceful and oh, God, he'd give anything to see her and feel her pressed up against him as they tumble naked together in the bedclothes.

He moans softly as his hand pumps his cock, sliding his foreskin back and forth, his thumb sweeping over the tip to collect the beads of precum as they gather. His hips buck into his palm and he strokes himself harder and faster. He tries to focus again on the actress that he normally thought of when he did this, but he can't. There is only the maid. The maid with her hands on him, with her mouth on him, with her thighs on either side of his hips as she sinks down onto him, with her lips parted and eyes closed as she reaches the peak of ecstasy and cries out his name. With that, he whimpers as he cums all over his hand, his cock throbbing and pulsing and leaking until his release has fully washed over him. He lays in his bed sweating and trying to catch his breath. The picture of her in his mind is so clear. He opens his mouth to whisper, but nothing comes out.

He doesn't even know her name.

******

Until next time...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity

[rosenclaws]

Here to ask of you have any thoughts about getting Eddie off in public. Like for example you're at a meeting and you're stroking him under the table and he's trying (and failing) to be quiet and hide what's happening. Maybe he finishes 🫣 maybe Jane teases you both afterwards because she knows what's been going on

I'm sorry if this is too much but I'm having THOUGHTS about this man and I had to share

you are so real for this and i applaud ur brain. I decided for this one to be a little drabble for funsies. Hehe

wc: 579 words

warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ Only, hand jobs, exhibitionisms, flustered Eddie, he threatens to spank u oops.

"What do you think you're doing?" Eddie grits out, he's leaning over to whisper in your ear so that no one else can hear you.

"I don't know what you're talking about?" You whisper back.

An innocent look on your face as you turn your attention back to the meeting. It was just another boring writers and producer meeting. There was a good amount of people but everyone was clearly bored out of their minds. You and Eddie sat together, listening to someone drone on about ratings and upcoming guests and blah blah.

The last time you had a meeting like this someone decided to be a dick and tease you in front of everyone. Thankfully no one noticed but you knew you had to take revenge on him. So you waited until finally the time was right. Everyone was focused on Diane as soon as she started speaking. She was too energetic for it being 9 in the morning but that's good for you.

A distraction.

Your hands slip down to Eddie's lap. He plays with your hand for a bit to distract himself. Keeping a straight face you start to unzip his jeans. He tenses under you but stays still. You see the grip on his pen get tighter as you reach into his boxers and start to grab his cock.

"Do you want us to get fired?" He shifts in his seat as his cock starts to get hard.

"Do you want me to stop?" You call him out on his bluff.

If he wants you to stop you will but you know he can't resist your touch. He grumbles to himself but doesn't tell you to stop. With a smirk you turn your focus back on Diane as you continue to stroke Eddie.

You keep your movements as subtle as possible but you wrists flicks wickedly good. Eddie coughs loudly when you run your thumb over the tip. Eyes turn onto him and it takes every single bit of will power in him to stay calm.

"You alright?" You ask with fake concern. He glares at you as he takes a sip of water and mumbles that he's fine. This is utter torture for him and you live for every damn second.

"What do you think Eddie?" Diane asks him. His face and neck are flushed red as he stutters out some reply. Not even know what the hell she was talking about. Too focused on your hand in his pants.

He buries his face in the stack of papers, lifting them to hide his face as he shamelessly comes in your hand and in his pants. You look around to see no one paying either of you any attention. He zips himself back up and excuses himself to the bathroom.

When the meeting is over you find him waiting outside. He looks pissed but there's a twinkle of lust in his eyes.

"You better be ready because tonight I'm going to spank that ass raw for that stunt." He whispers in your ear, a dangerous smile on his face.

"Hey guys!" You both turn your head to see Jane walking towards you two.

"Hi Jane!"

"Hi." She takes one look at the two of you and smiles.

"Eddie is everything alright? You look a little flushed." Eddie clenches his jaw and glares at the both of you. You bite your lip to contain your laughter as you meet eyes with Jane.

"Oh shut up."

[violetmuses]

Walk Like This - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹

Title: Walk Like This - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: You've crossed the unexpected patient.

Tag List: @nelo0wesker @yassbishimvintage @nobodygetsza @peaxhygirl @superstar-t20 @adoresmiles @klssngss @deja-r @hyper-trash-panda @amethyst-loves-bucky @planetblaque @sweettea-and-honeybutter @lovedlover @xjjawsomex 🏷

=====

2024

Designated to work somewhere in Miami this time around, you've hustled throughout various placements after joining that large-scale facility.

While trying to sleep on one rare day off, this unknown number reached this cell phone.

“Hello?” You've hardly woken up by this point and still feel exhausted.

“Rook, I need a big favor.” Cutting your nickname, Detective Mike Lowrey called out of nowhere!

“Mike, what the hell?” You somehow pull thoughts together and sit up in bed, unsure of what's going on.

“Trouble. One of our guys is wounded. I really can't bring him to the hospital, though.” Mike explained.

“Damn. Where are you?” Your heart dropped with each passing moment.

“We're on the porch, but I'm barely holding him up right now.” Mike struggled.

“Hold on!” You ended that conversation and hustled downstairs, genuinely nervous.

The stranger's lifeline just counted down more and more.

When you open the front door, Armando Aretas nearly dropped from Mike's hold.

“Shit!” Knowing so much better, you aid this moment despite holding back questions. “C'mon, Mike. Help me bring him to the couch.”

“Okay.” Mike agreed to help without thinking twice.

______

With James McGrath dead, Miami's AMMO squad returned home, but Aretas couldn't risk public sight while known as this dangerous criminal.

After facing many questions or encountering secrets over time, even Mike took responsibility and now stood as Armando's biological father.

Using First-Aid and grounding other essentials, you knew that Armando's injuries could've worsened if Mike hadn't signaled right away.

“What else do you need, Mike? I can't babysit your son.” Telling the truth, you glared at Lowrey.

“Please look out for him. I can't book hotels for recovery, either.” Mike shook his head.

“Y'all can't go home afterwards? Christine is a physical therapist, too.” You say. Mike married this remarkable person named Christine as well.

“I know, but Armando is better off hiding near strangers.” Mike continued. “Right now, if I stayed in public with him, someone would call…”

“I'm harboring a fugitive and could lose everything.” You gritted anger.

“I'll figure this shit out.” Mike held your shoulders with gloved hands. “You won't get in trouble, all right? I promise.”

“Mike…” You trailed off this response when Armando grumbled from the sofa.

Clenching through pain, Armando woke up this time and sat up while shirtless. Bandages helped the wounds.

“Hey. Take it easy, man. We got this.” Lowrey cautioned his son.

“Who's that?” Revealing slightly accented English, Aretas looked at you, drained.

“One of my friends helped out.” Mike introduced you during terrible circumstances.

“Hi.” Lifting your hand, you offered kindness while greeting Armando. “We've patched you up.”

“Thank you.” Aretas expressed gratitude despite everything.

“Of course.” You still checked this stranger regardless.

Lingering grief and exhaustion pooled his deep brown eyes.

No matter what happens next, you just wanted this man to heal.

****

Sometime later, you've returned home from work and discovered that several cars parked in the driveway.

Even Detective Lowrey's classic Porsche beamed past moonlight, and your thoughts jumbled.

Entering the garage, you opened this following door but almost hopped within seconds:

“Surprise!” Mike Lowrey brightened the kitchen lights, and this AMMO squad cheered to celebrate your birthday.

This adorable cake towered as weapons expert Kelly stood beside tech genius Dorn.

“Thank you, everyone!” You smiled. Even Mike's partner and best friend Marcus Burnett chuckled over dessert.

“Make a wish!” Marcus would offer the plan every year.

Closing your eyes, you kept thoughts private and leaned forward, blowing out candles.

Once you turned around, Armando stood in perfect health wearing this random cap.

“Take off the hat, Armando!” Mike laughed this time, and everyone cheered even louder.

Aretas left the barbershop with this buzz cut and held flowers, opening both arms to embrace you.

Happy endings became real.

[buckyalpine]

40s Sergeant Barnes with a nurse and a Sergeant kink (and breeding and house wife kink, virginity loss). This was supposed to be a pure smutty drabble but then I got in my feelings and added some fluff and angst but I promise Bucky is still a dirty, nasty little fuck in this. Just with a sweeter ending. The one he deserves.

Listen just imagine what a cute, sexy menace Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes would be just waking up from an injury when his eyes flutter open to the pretty nurse he’s been eyeing from the day he started. You’re not a shy, dainty little thing, nope. Not at all.

You bark out orders like a drill Sergeant and one glare from you is all it takes to get everyone in line and on task without a second thought. Even his superiors are scared of you, biting their tongue when you stitch them up and send them on their way before running off to your next patient.

Bucky was in love.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he rasps, throwing you a charming smirk while you roll your eyes in response, shaking your head. "How'd I get so lucky, got a my little angel tendin' to me"

“I see your injury hasn’t stopped hurt that mouth of yours Sergeant" You quirk an eyebrow while he playfully huffs as you change the dressing covering a gash on his abdomen. You swab the area clean and he doesn't flinch even though you know it must burn like hell, his muscles tensed while he continues to watch you with heart eyes. "Now you know I'm not your little angel, I got 20 other men to fix up, you better be out of this bed as soon as you're all healed up"

“C’mon sugar, you're breakin' my heart" Bucky gives you a little pout with those perfect lips and you catch the twinkle in his eye as he looks over your form with complete admiration. He loved your sassy, take no shit attitude and it's taking everything in him to calm himself down so he doesn't get a hard on right there in front of you.

"You'd tell that to a cat with three legs if it was in a nurses outfit" You try your best to not give into his flirty comments and puppy eyes, knowing damn well he's a heart breaker but he makes it so difficult when he continues to woo you with his boyish charm.

He can't help but chase after you; catching the way your eyes always dart around with anxiety when his group returns from an operation, relief flooding them when you finally spot him. He loves your indifferent attitude, patting him down to make sure he's uninjured but your furrowed brows and the tiny pout on your lips give away that you're worried.

How can he just let you go. Every time you check over him, he needs you closer.

So much closer.

-

"Ms. y/l/n, Sergeant Barnes is requesting you in his tent, he says it's urgent"

You shake your head looking over at the time, quietly making your way over to the tent he's stationed at, thankful that a number of troops were sleeping so you wouldn't be seen as you quickly slip inside.

“And what hurts now” you sass with your hands on your hips seeing the soldier in perfect health, doing your best to assess him without letting him know.

"Always checkin' over me" Bucky chuckles, seeing what you're doing; his words making your cheeks heat up, "Knew you cared about me sugar"

"Well what am I doin' here" You give him an unconvincing huff, struggling to keep your voice steady, refusing to meet his eyes, keeping your gaze on his silver dog tags instead. It doesn't help that he's handsome as hell with a light dusting of scruff covering his cheeks. Bucky's never seen you flustered before and it evokes something in him, all the blood in his body rushing south seeing your fingers twitch.

All he wanted to do was kiss you but now-

“Help your Sergeant out doll” He whispers, taking another step forward till his chest brushes against yours, his hand coming to tilt your chin up, "Will you?"

You gasp feeling his hardness press against your thigh, your heart fluttering wildly as his thumb traces your lips, any semblance of control you had slipping away feeling the warmth of his skin.

“Y-yes Sergeant Barnes”

His lips press against yours, soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the way his body was screaming for him to pick you up and toss you onto his cot.

"Sweet like sugar" He lets his hands fall to your waist, pulling you flush against his body while your arms drape on top of his shoulders. You stand on your toes chasing more of his lips and he chuckles at the needy whine you let out when he pulls away for air.

Now let's say your first night together was actually quite tame. He kisses you again and you swoon when he repeatedly checks in with you before going any further. His hand slips under your skirt, letting his fingers toy with places no on else has touched. With each night, he needs you more and more until he can't hold off any longer and neither can you.

-

You sneak into his tent and this time he doesn't hesitate to undress you completely, not when he needs you bare with nothing separating you both. You feel your heart race as he lies on top of you, draping a thin sheet over himself when you shiver at the chill night air. You feel his body heat instantly warm you up, his heavy cock resting between your soaked folds.

"Are you sure, sugar?" He asks, his hand cupping your cheek and stroking your skin.

"Please Sergeant" You whisper and the way you say his title makes his cock twitch. There's something so different about you when you're in his bed, a sweet little bunny giving herself to him completely. It drives him feral with a need to make you feel good, make you cry for his cock and his cock only, to keep you nice and full of him.

You don't look twice at anyone else and here you are completely naked in his tent with your tight little virgin cunt, your legs spread open so he can put his dick in you; there was no way he was ever going to let you go.

"You tell me if it's too much, alright?" His lips tickle your neck as kisses your skin while rubbing his heavy cock through your folds, coating it in your slick, "Breathe for me"

He slips his tags into your mouth as he starts to press in, the initial sting making you bite down hard onto the metal feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. You whine at the way he stretches you open, your thighs squeezing around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shhh, that's it love, doin' so good for me so good for your Sergeant, look how you're takin' all of me baby" He looks down to where you're both connected as he continues to slowly push himself in till hes fully sheathed inside you. He gives you time to adjust, slipping his tags out of your lips and letting his tongue lace with yours instead, his balls already throbbing with how tightly you were squeezing his cock.

"Please-Sergeant" your heels press into his ass desperate for him to move, gasping when he starts to slowly roll his hips, barely pulling out.

"I got you love-don't worry" Bucky moves as slowly as he could not wanting to hurt you, taking just as much care of you as you had with him countless of times.

But he can only keep up at that pace for so long. Your muffled whines and moans don't help the way his mind is already spiraling. His pretty little nurse all spread out just for him, taking his raw, bare cock in her soaking pussy, squeezing him so tight, he was only a few strokes from cumming.

If it were up to him he would've proposed on the spot, thinking about making love to you on your wedding night, seeing you all shy and sweet wrapped up in soft white lace. If you were his wife, he'd take you apart every which way, not giving a fuck about traditions, taking you right on the dining room table.

You'd be the prettiest little thing for him to come home to, such a good wife all dirty just for her husband. Only he'd know the way your mouth would slobber all over his cock like your life depended on it. The way you'd moan at the taste of his cum. Bucky's eyes rolled back at the thought of you with nothing but some heels and a string of pearls he'd put around your neck while he stuffed you with cum and emptied his balls in you.

"S-Sergeant-I-oh god" You whimpered feeling his cock grow harder, your pussy pulling him right back in, feeling the coil low in your belly pull tighter and tighter as he hit that spot.

Meanwhile Bucky's jaw clenched as he felt his balls pull tight to his body, the tip leaking steadily in your pussy. His mind spiraled into places he didn't think would exist before he met you, rogue thoughts he only entertained when he had his dick in his hand. The harder he fucked you the more he thought about how gorgeous you'd look with a swollen belly.

Fuck, imagine if he got you pregnant right then and there. That nurses uniform would no longer fit you. Everyone would know he knocked you up, your perfectly round tummy carrying Sergeant James Barnes' baby, breasts heavy with milk, God, he wasn't going to last-

“Gonna let your Sergeant pump you full of cum?” He pants, letting his hands grip onto your hips like his life depends on it, the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit.

“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-youI-I'm gonna-"

"M'yours sweet girl, m'all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.

"Want your cum Sergeant" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.

"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, m-gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Bucky right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair; his usual kempt brown locks now disheveled .

“Y’know m’gonna marry you” his scruffy cheek nuzzles into your neck as he continues to stay deep inside you as his cock softens, “after all this is over. Gonna put a ring on that finger”

His words send a different wave of emotions over you, feeling more safe than ever, clinging onto him as tightly as possible. You let a whimper slip out and he pulls away from your neck with an expression of concern.

“What is it love” Bucky coos, wiping away the tears that slip you, stroking your cheek while you bite back a sniffle.

“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” You weren't sure what Bucky would want-there was still a war going on. Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-

"Of course sugar" Bucky presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"

-

And of course he gets his happy ending. Because when it's all over, he gets the ring for the girl he loves. He's on one knee, proposing to you with the sweetest words. He treats you like a princess on your wedding night, making love all night long until the sun is up.

There isn't a surface in the house he's left untouched. Nothing makes him more feral than moaning for his pretty wife, constantly taking her hand and wrapping it around his cock, watching that diamond glint with each stroke.

It doesn't take long for you to feel a little squeamish, knowing all the tell tale signs.

The day you tell him he's going to be a dad is one of the happiest days of his life. There isn't a single night that goes by where he isn't nuzzling his face into your tummy, talking to your little one.

Everything was perfecttt.

[ozzgin]

What if the Yandere school has some sort of event where they interact with students of the darling school and just like how our reader is a darling in the Yandere school they find a student of the darling school is a Yandere

You're an oblivious Darling going to Yandere School, and now you're paired up with...a Yandere hiding among Darlings. The absurdity goes on. Content: gender neutral reader, yandere horde, parody

[Yandere School] | [Yandere School 2] | [More Yandere]

He could immediately tell. You were a sheep among the wolves, and he was a wolf in sheep's clothing. He followed your movements with a predatory gaze, planning his approach.

He'd applied to Darling Academy out of sheer greed, hoping to find his soulmate. He searched, and stalked, and hounded, all in vain. Hell, he even had to repeat a year; it took him an ungodly amount of willpower to pass the damn kidnapping course.

"You're not surprised to discover your captor", the teacher had shouted, exasperated. "Unless you show me genuine shock, I cannot give you a passing grade"

"You can see her from a damn mile", he argued angrily, pointing at his darling classmate. She was supposed to simulate an attack, and he was to play the role of a clueless, helpless victim. Ridiculous.

Who would've thought his one and only was hiding in a Yandere School, of all places? So unforeseen, so unexpected, that he could not believe it to be anything but a fateful encounter. He glanced one final time at the enormous banner hanging against the school building:

"Annual Study Partnership Event: Yandere School x Darling Academy"

"You must be (Y/N). We've been paired together for the week. I'm in your care!", he beams cheerfully.

Despite his annoyance with Darling Academy, it proved to be somewhat useful in the end. Not only did it guide him to you, but it also polished his acting skills to near perfection. The teacher's office was guarded viciously given the previous attempts of the yandere students to cheat the system and have you on their team. Who would ever suspect a Darling? He simply waltzed in, scribbled his name on the event sheet, and left.

"I wouldn't be too excited", you confess, a little dejected. "I'm not...uh...the best yandere out there."

He pretends to sneeze, hiding the grin spreading across his face. Sweet, innocent thing that you are. Oh, don't worry your pretty head. He'll take care of everything.

The annual event consists of a week-long competition. A yandere student is paired with a darling counterpart, and the teams compete against each other for various activities. It's a learning experience for everyone involved, meant to hone the skills of a yandere and prepare the darlings for their future encounters.

First activity: tying up your darling.

Your eyes light up. For once, it's something you're good at. You hurry back to your partner, carrying the box filled with bondage rope, and nod towards the young man.

"Leave this to me", you state solemnly.

The timer starts, and you begin tying the knots. The yandere observes your process, completely infatuated. Your focused expression is downright adorable. Now, he could let you have your moment of victory. On the other hand...can he really waste this chance?

His fingers discreetly mess with some of the rope lying around. A little nudge here, another loop here. You're too absorbed in your work to notice anything.

You hear the bell and huff, exhausted. You wipe your forehead. This is it, the final touch. You hold onto the rope, and pull with all your strength. Suddenly you're dragged forward by an unseen force, and your face slams into your teammate's broad chest. You've tied the two of you together, somehow.

The other yanderes watch the display with a grimace.

(Y/N) is good with rope. This shouldn't have happened, they all think in unison. They glare at the darling pressed against you. Something isn't right. Is that man truly a darling? He feels more like a fellow rival.

"I'm so sorry", you sniff, humiliated.

He strokes your hair affectionately, reassuring you. It happens. The rope must've been faulty. You did your best.

He feels a cold shiver and tilts his head towards the bystanders, then smiles. It seems he isn't the only one who has fallen for you. Though he didn't expect it to be the whole school. Alas, what's life without a little competition?

"Come on, (Y/N). Let's get ready for the next part. I have a feeling we'll win this one", he says, winking at you playfully.

This must be the best week of his life.

[bananami]

A little couple's trivia with Nanami proves that he knows you all too well.

I did use the term wife and she/her pronouns just as a brief cw. The whole thing is just fluff. Nanami is in love with you. That's the whole things.

(I am delulu and in love with this man. Hope this helps us all heal. He is alive and well and no one can convince me otherwise. Also I love including Gojo's dumbass in everything. Also Yuji is a sweetheart and Nanami's son basically.)

"Please?" You're practically begging your husband, who doesn't seem to be budging.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Yeah Nanamin-"

"Don't call me that." Nanami cuts Gojo off immediately.

"But Yuji calls you that!"

"That's different." He glares at the white haired man like he's trying to eviscerate him with just his eyes. "And I'm not playing some stupid game just to prove how well I know my wife." He tries to pay attention to the paperwork in front of him again, wanting to finish it before 5pm. Because there was no way he was working overtime again today.

"Scared?" Gojo baited him. "Afraid I'm gonna ask you a question that's just too hard?"

"Gojo, there is nothing you could ask me about my wife that I wouldn't be able to answer."

A few of the students sat around watching the two go back and forth, inevitably waiting for Nanami to either get so annoyed that he walked away, or to take the bait. They hoped for the latter.

"Prove it! Or you forfeit your marriage."

"That's not how that works."

"C'mon Nanamin, it's just a game." Yuji gives the blonde sorcerer a sincere smile, hoping to lighten the mood and sway his decision just a bit.

"Don't call him Nanamin, Yuji- OW." Gojo is cut off as Nanami reaches over and smacks him in the head with the papers in his hand.

"Don't tell him what to do." Nanami sighs and rubs at his temple. He looks at the clock, then at you. It's the look in your eyes that gives way to his final decision. "Fine. You have until that clock reads 5, and then I'm taking my wife and we're going home."

Gojo wastes no time. "Who is your wife's favorite person? And think before you say yourself because-"

"Itadori. Next question."

"I'm your favorite person?!" Yuji jumps from his seat, latching his arms around you for a hug. It's obvious from the way that you smile and hug him back that Nanami is probably definitely right. You had a soft spot for the kid since you met him, playfully telling everyone that you and Nanami had basically adopted him since he arrived at Jujutsu High. Nanami would probably never verbalize it, but you could tell he felt the same about the boy.

"Ok, ok. Next question." Gojo thought hard before coming up with it. "How does your wife take her coffee?"

"She doesn't drink coffee."

"Yes she does, I bring her some like every morning."

"And she gives that coffee to me because she doesn't like it."

"You're telling me I've been buying you coffee this entire time?"

"I make her tea every morning when we get to work. You hand her the coffee, we trade cups. I don't understand how you've stared right at us when we do it and you somehow haven't noticed."

"Ok, then what tea does she drink?"

"Earl Grey, three sugars, a little bit of milk at the top. She'll say she's ok with English Breakfast or Lady Earl Grey if they're out of the regular. She's not, she's just being polite. She'll drink half and throw it away when she thinks no one is looking."

Gojo groans, not having as much fun as he thought he was going to at the beginning of all of this. "And I just bet you have a contingency plan for when your wife doesn't get her tea, don't you?"

"Of course I do," he ignores the even louder groan from Gojo, "I walk across the street to the cafe that sells her favorite pastries and I buy her five because I know that she'll want to share with her students and she'll try to split one with me even if I refuse. They have teabags they leave out so long as you're ordering something. Earl Grey, always in stock."

"Adorable." Gojo rolls his eyes.

"You're so smart, Nanamin!" Yuji jumps in. "Let me ask one! What's her favorite color?"

"Yuji, that's too easy."

"Yellow."

"Ohhhh, mine too," Yuji says, "why yellow?"

"Because it's-" Nanami stops mid-sentence and looks at the clock, like it will give him an excuse. Almost. "We don't need to worry about the why, that wasn't the original question."

Gojo perks up, clearly realizing he'd struck a nerve. And he was ready to work it. The red dusting across Nanami's cheeks told him everything he needed to know. "Are you embarrassed, Nanami?"

"Shut up, Gojo."

"Or do you just not know the answer? It's ok if you don't, I guess you just don't know your wife as well as you thought you did."

"If you don't stop talking, I'm going to tell everyone about the one time in high school when you and Geto got caught in the-"

"OK!" Gojo turns back to the students and motions them toward the door. "Time to go! Don't you all have something better to do? Go be little trouble makers somewhere. Go TP Yaga's lawn or something. Get out of here."

He'd ushered everyone out except Yuji, who stayed behind to wait for you and Nanami. The boy shyly looked away as you kissed Nanami's cheek before standing up, stating you just needed to grab your bag before you could leave.

Yuji waited for you to exit the room before he asked. "Is it because of your hair?"

Nanami sighs. "What makes you think that?"

Yuji just shrugs. "She loves you. Answers don't always need a complex reason."

Nanami can't help the smile that graces his face. "You're a smart kid sometimes, you know that?"

"That's why I'm her favorite!" His goofy nature is back in an instant. "Can I come over for dinner again tonight?"

"Of course you can."

"Can I stay over?"

"If you'd like to."

"Can I pick the movie we watch?"

"Don't push your luck."

[cloudystevie]

scary my god you're divine

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pairing || bucky barnes x f!reader

word count || 3235

summary || he would do anything for you.

warnings || smut! dom! bucky x sub! reader, possessive! bucky, a little bit of subspace, choking, little bit of exhibitionism kink, minor pain play, daddy kink (only three times okay i'm sorry i am who i am), degradation, unprotected sex

author's note || 18+ ONLY. not proofread yet. my very first request in a very long time! Anonymous asked: Could you write a Dombucky x Subreader? And if you wouldn't mind jealous!bucky, already established relationship and his dog tags on reader? hope you enjoy nonnie! as always feel free to send in requests or any asks! feel free to reblog! enjoy!

»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««

Today, a select few from the team are supposed to train the new agents, preparing them for the physical aspect of being an agent. Some made it fun or tolerable, like Steve and Sam, who were born leaders and charismatic. Natasha and Wanda enjoyed supervising the sparring sessions. Tony and Bruce enjoyed using technology to throw new obstacles at the agents.

Sometimes literally.

Unfortunately, your grumpy boyfriend, Bucky, just did not find any joy in training days. He didn’t like giving out instructions and praise unless it was you who was under him. He didn’t like supervising weak punches and miscalculated throws. And technology was just a straight-up no for him.

Usually, he could make himself useful with Steve, throwing out no-nonsense orders without making himself a massive part of the effort.

You were taking the elevator down to the gym floor. Fury had instructed you to check everything out and ensure everything went according to the itinerary. 

The doors open, and you glance around to ensure no immediate problems before letting your gaze fall on Bucky; his eyes are already on you. You offer him a bright smile, which he returns with a smirk, and your stomach flutters like it does every time you see him. You’re about 7 feet away from your boyfriend before you feel a hand on your lower back. You startle and turn around to face the newest agent. He has quickly climbed through all of SHIELD’s tests and proven himself to be of great value. He chatted you up last week at Tony’s charity ball, and you tried to let him down gently since you were already happily taken. Bucky was on a mission that day, and you didn’t want to add to his mental load by telling him about some punk who wouldn’t leave you alone.

Apparently, said punk, cannot take no for an answer.

“Back for more, cutie? You finally break up with your imaginary boyfriend?” Marcus teases, but really, he sounds more taunting than playful. You glance over your shoulder as you move away from his grip, and you already see Bucky glaring directly at the spot where Marcus’ hand was on your back. The stopwatch he was holding in his flesh hand shatters, and he doesn’t even flinch when Steve and Sam apologize for him, asking what was wrong as discreetly as they could but one glance over to where you were uncomfortably held hostage by the lean brunet man told them everything they needed to know. 

Bucky cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders up as he stalks towards you two. His looming presence is felt before you can see him in your peripheral vision. You glance up at him and take an instinctive step back toward his hulking body, breathing a sigh of relief because Marcus has to let up now.

He doesn’t.

“Oh hey, Sergeant Barnes, if you don’t mind I’m actually trying to talk to this chick so…” 

The way he talks about you as if you’re not right there makes you physically recoil. Bucky’s eyes harden; he’s not even squaring up to his full stature, and he already easily dwarfs Marcus. Bucky takes a step forward, and everyone in the room comes to a standstill. Everyone shuddering at the sheer anger rolling off of Bucky and the stupidity of Marcus.

Marcus huffs out a laugh. Maybe he gets a little pasty when he’s nervous because he seems to be digging himself a deeper hole when he says something about how many girls fall at his feet and Sarge, you've got to calm down. She’s not worth all that.

In an instant, Steve and Sam command everyone to return to their tasks, and the room begins to bustle again, but with a specific weary energy that was not there before. The very next second, Marcus is picked up by the collar of his black t-shirt and slammed against the wall, the room rattling with the force of it as all the recruits try to ignore the spectacle before them. 

“Touch her again, and I will kill you,” Bucky promises. “If you look at her, I will kill you. If you even think about her, I will fucking kill you. Understand?” His voice is a low grumble, the words resounding and reverberating as you watch Marcus sputter out panicked apologies and his flailing body while Bucky still looks so self-assured and composed. It's as if he’s not scaring a man to death while simultaneously making you drool.

You call out Bucky’s name, and he looks at you over his shoulder, pinning Marcus with one final glare and shove before letting him go as the agent does the walk of shame to the washroom. It’s almost like you’re frozen in your spot. You’ve seen Bucky get aggressive on missions before, but watching him be so willing to defend you, stand up for you when you couldn’t, not even hesitating for a second when he threatened to kill for you. And the worst part is, you were confident he was dead serious. 

Even worse, something about the principle of the situation was really doing it for you.

On the outside, it might have seemed like you were in shock or panic due to the agents’ actions, so Bucky whisked you away to a private interrogation room on the floor above the gym. The whole elevator ride there, his hand is protectively on your lower back, and you just watch the rigid set of his jaw and the anger and possessiveness written all over his features with unmistakable doe eyes. The air in the elevator is thick, and neither of you says a word. Before you know it, Bucky is easily lifting you and placing you on the metal table in the middle of the dull room, and his eyes are scanning yours for any hint of panic or if you’re upset. His hands cup your face gently, the cool vibranium soothing against your heated skin, and he finally breaks the silence. “You’ve gotta say something, baby. Are you okay? After this, that idiot’s going to be gone. I’m sorry if seeing me like that upset you, sweetheart-” Your rushed words cut off his ramble, “I thought that was really hot.” You say quietly and watch as Bucky’s face contorts from one of worry to one of confusion. 

“The way you stood up for me, you were so nonchalant about killing for me. I can’t lie, James. That kind of did something for me.” You continue, biting your lip and scanning him for his reaction, hoping he didn’t take your words in the wrong way. 

He’s silent for a moment. His chest moving steadily with each breath against yours. 

The next moment, his lips are pressed against yours, and you let a surprised squeak out. Your mouth slots open when his wandering hands roughly squeeze your thigh through your satin pants, getting dangerously close to the heat pulsing between your thighs. Taking advantage of your open mouth, Bucky slips his tongue inside your mouth and you buck your hips to seek some friction against your needy core. The kiss is passionate and renders your breathless as he consumes all of your senses. All you can think, see, smell, hear, and feel is James. 

His name falls from your lips in a gasp, you reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, letting your head lull to the side when he peppers sloppy kisses all over your jaw, trailing down your neck and biting and licking on your sweet spot. You swat at his firm bicep, “You’re gonna leave a mark James, stop it.” Your attempt at scolding him is weak, even to your own ears.

You feel Bucky smirk against your sensitive neck, his wandering hands cupping your ass and shamelessly groping and swatting at you. “Oh really? That’s too bad baby. Gonna be a pain to cover up.” He remarks, voice dripping in cockiness.

You scoff and bite back a whimper when he grinds his undoubtedly hard length against your clothed center. Your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself by holding onto his shoulders, a shiver crawling up your spine when a particularly slow grind nudges your aching clit. “You’re such a bad influence you know that?” Your voice lacks any real conviction. Your hips move in tandem with his, both of you sharing messy kisses and your bodies thrumming with lust and pent up energy. 

“I’ll kill anyone who even thinks about looking at you.” Bucky says assuredly, and you can’t help the mewl that escapes your lips at his words. Your hands shakily going to undo his black jeans as he messily pulls yours pants down, being considerate enough not to rip them considering there was still a little more than an hour until the SHIELD training day was over. “Bucky I need you, need you to please-” Your voice is shaky and desperate, as you struggle to unbutton his jeans. He shushes you gently, cooing at you sweetly as he easily unbuttons his jeans, just enough for you to promptly pull out his erect cock. Your mouth practically waters at his length and girth, and you spit onto your hand and begin rubbing his length, swiping your thumb gently over the tip making him hiss and push his hips into your hand. 

You bite your lip and look up at him through hooded eyes, and he slaps your hand away before tearing your panties in half, the top half covering your swollen clit and the bottom scrap of fabric falling limply against the cool table. You barely have time to scold him for ripping your panties before he’s shoving his whole length inside you in one fluid thrust. Your back arches, your legs wrapping around his waist as your buddy erupts in a shiver, a short scream escaping your lips. He swallows the noise with his mouth pressed against yours as he grunts into your mouth, waiting only a short second before he begins to thrust inside you. His thrusts are slow but hard, making the heavy metal table scrape against the floor with the force of each pass of his hips into yours. 

“You’re mine, mine to touch. Mine to have. Mine to take care of.” Bucky grunts out, his movements picking up in pace as emotion swirls in his voice, his metal hand covering your neck, forcing you to stay upright in a position that allowed you to feel all of him. You sob out, digging your nails into his bicep and nodding your head, already succumbing to that foggy feeling you felt when you were so close to your boyfriend. He tuts at you, swatting your face with his flesh hand with enough force to make you moan out and clench around his length. 

“Nuh-uh sweetheart, you’re not going dumb on me that quick. Use your words, tell me you’re mine. Tell me I’m yours.” His voice is commanding and you force yourself to look at him, pulling on his shirt and tugging on his dog tugs to get him closer, your foreheads pressing against each other as his thrusts continue to get faster. “I’m yours James, only yours. You’re only mine. No one else. Just you.” Your words are slurred as he groans out a good girl in approval and decides that he wants your shirt off. He skillfully manages to slip your navy blue long-sleeve off and unhooks your bra in one motion, freeing your tits to the cold air of the room, forcing the buds into sensitive peaks which Bucky is quick to take advantage of. His hands squeeze and pull at your tits, tugging and pinching cruelly at your nipples making you whine. 

Your bodies are pressed so close to one another, each pull of his hips making his pelvis rub against your aching clit, stray tears streaming down your face and your chest heaving and pushed up against Bucky.

If anyone were to walk in right now the picture would be nothing short of debauched. You completely bare on the table, Bucky completely clothed. Getting absolutely plowed if the screech of the metal against the floor was anything to go by. Your moans get higher in pitch and volume making Bucky grunt, another swat to your cheek making your brain foggy. “Shut the fuck up slut. You want everyone to see you getting fucked like the bitch in heat you are?” But if your moans and increasing wetness are anything to go by, yes, a deep and dark part of you does want that. Bucky laughs at you, shaking his head in faux disbelief and you wrap your lips around his dog tags, enjoying the soothing sensation brought by the cool metal. Bucky looks down at your lips wrapped around the dog tags he never seemed to take off and he let out a wrecked sound. You clench around him at the sound making his rhythm falter.

Before you can even process the loss of his proximity, your back is flat against the table and his dog tags are now around your neck, landing on your chest and glimmering in the dull fluorescent lighting of the room. Bucky slams himself back inside of you, the unmistakable squelch of your wetness filling up the room alongside both of your noises of pleasure. Your high-pitched and pornographic mewls and his low grunts and deep groans. You cry out his name as your head lulls to the side, eyes shutting in bliss as your fingers move to give your aching clit some attention. But Bucky lets out a disappointed grunt, grabbing your jaw in his hand and forcing you to maintain eye contact. “Look away from me again and I won’t let you cum for a fucking week stupid baby.” Bucky threatens. “You better fucking pay attention to who’s fucking you dumb. No need to close your eyes and imagine when you’ve got the real thing right here.”

Each of his words ignites a newfound purpose in Bucky as he pounds into you impossibly harder, his hand swatting against your cheek again and wrapping around your neck, keeping you in place to take all of his thrusts. He knows you always struggle to keep your eyes open and you don’t doubt that he will follow through on his threat. He has always enjoyed testing your weakness and pushing your limits. 

“Feels s’good. You’re so big Jamie. S’big, so good s’too good.” Your words are breathy and frail, your fingers rubbing quick circles around your aching button. A mean laugh rumbles in his chest as he watches the way his dog tags move with your tits, the sight is intoxicating and fuels Bucky to continue his torment. “There she is my dumb little baby. Couldn’t help yourself huh? Can’t help the way your brain goes quiet when I have my dick inside you.” His words should be humiliating but they only spur you on, your fingers on the verge of cramping but the jolts of pleasure are so overwhelming you can’t stop. “Jus’ need you. Need you to make it better. ‘M yours Daddy, only yours.” 

“That’s it baby, I know, I know it feels so good huh. Daddy’s here baby, Daddy’s gonna take care of his needy baby.” Bucky’s head falls back on a moan when you clench around him, your walls pulsing and a ring of cream forming around the base of his cock. Your orgasm was surely just a few moments away and Bucky’s lips curled up in a smirk.

He folds your legs at the knee, sliding you closer to him with the pressure he has on your throat, the angle making him rub against your sweet spot with each deliriously pleasurable thrust. You squeal out his name, getting even louder than before and he shoves his dog tags into your mouth, muffling your garble out unintelligeble pleads to cum. With one hand Bucky squeezes your throat, and with the other he pinches at your nipples, tugging the sensitive flesh before trailing his hand down your body and slapping your hand away from your clit, he moves his lips down to your ears, licking up your earlobe before whispering his command, “Cum. Cum right fucking now or you don’t get to cum at all.” His fingers pinch your clit and the sudden burst of pain has you tensing your legs up, squealing out nonsense around the dog tags in your mouth and reaching your peak. Your body shakes against the table as Bucky pounds you through your high, his words of encouragement falling on deaf ears as you teeter between consciousness and unconsciouness. His body overwhelming your mind and soul. 

His fingers release your throat and you look up at him with watery eyes, bringing him down to rest your foreheads against each other as he nears his own high. Your lips are pressing against each other, “There isn’t a single person in the world I wouldn’t kill for you. I would do anything for you. You are everything to me.” Bucky murmurs in a pussy-drunk stupor. But the words are true, he has said them to you before and will say them a thousand times again. You taught him how to live again, not just survive. 

A broken cry falls from your lips from sensitivity and Bucky’s impassioned thrusts turn sloppy as he moans out your name, pulling you impossibly closer as he fills you with his cum. At the feeling of being completely stuffed by him, your second release is triggered and you shake in his hold as he comes down from his high. He presses lazy kisses against your lips and rubs his hands soothingly up and down your body, easing you out of your submissive state. He gently pulls himself out, using the handkerchief he carries around to wipe your thighs clean, but letting his cum keep your pussy messy. He quickly wipes himself off and helps you dress yourself. 

A few more giggly kisses and you’re pretty much ready to go back down to the gym. Just in time to catch the final thing on today’s agenda: sparring. Bucky walks one step behind you, his hand back again on your lower back protectively as a path is cleared to the front of the ring where your friends are supervising Marcus and another recruit preparing for the second round of their match. Natasha and Wanda offer you knowing smirks and you roll your eyes with heat creeping up cheeks as you shyly glance up at Bucky through your eyelashes to find him already looking at you with a stupid smile. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek and watches with intent as Steve and Sam coach their respective agents. 

“Looking strong, Marcus!” Bucky calls out and you swat his chest making him laugh. Marcus takes one look at you, Bucky’s dog tags now around your neck and falling on your shirt, teeth imprints on your neck, and swollen lips. Poor Marcus falters, and the other recruit takes advantage of his distraction and easily tackles him to the ground, winning the second round. Bucky takes a single step closer to the ring where Sam is helping Marcus up, and the smirk on your arrogant boyfriend’s face is adorable. “Better luck next time buddy,” he says supportively. Sam flicks Bucky in the forehead, unable to hide the smile on his face, “Dumbass.”

[reidswhre]

can you figure me out? ; spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: you try everything possible so that spencer realizes that you are completely in love with him, but he just doesn't seem to notice it.

warnings: i had spencer from season 2 in mind, nothing dw!

a/n: I had this draft saved and I was improving it to be able to post it, I hope you enjoy it! I have a couple of requests, thank you very much!! I hope to be able to make them soon. 💗 By the way, english is not my first language, let me know any mistakes, have a beautiful day! 💘

Everyone at the BAU knew you were completely in love with Spencer Reid.

Except for Spencer.

Which was sometimes funny—most of the time it was—but other times it was frustrating. It didn’t seem logical to you how a genius with an IQ of 187 couldn’t realize that he was basically the love of your life. It’s not like you were trying to hide it or something. He’s just oblivious.

Because of this, Morgan and García proposed a little game to you.

“I bet you could flirt with him all day, and he’d think you were just being friendly,” Penelope laughed.

You lightly bumped your forehead against your desk, staying there defeated. “Don’t even say that,” you mumbled against the desk.

“Hey, hey, don’t be sad, cutie,” Derek gently lifted your head so you could see him. “It’s not as bad as it seems. He’s just… something else,” he laughed.

“Don’t say that,” you frowned at Derek.

Derek raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. "Hey, it's okay, I'm not offending your husband."

"He's not my husband, and he never will be if he never pays attention to me." You sighed.

"Look, sweetie, flirt with him all day, no filter." She laughed.

Derek played along. "That's right, let's see how hard it is for him to notice." He laughed too.

"Stop playing around, this is serious, don't be like that." You were quite sad.

"We're being serious too!" Derek exclaimed.

"I mean, it's what you want, right? For him to notice. It's not possible that you flirt with him all day and he doesn't notice." Penelope added. "And listen, babe, if he doesn't notice this, I'm sorry to say it, but he's ignoring you," she explained to you.

You groaned and rested your head on the desk.

After a while, you started thinking about what Morgan and Garcia had said. After all, you had nothing to lose; in the end, it was basically what you did every day. Although, of course, this was a bit over the top, but who knows if it was over the top enough for Spencer to notice.

"Hey, you." You smiled at Spencer, who was in the office kitchen making one of his coffees.

Spencer looked at you. "Oh, hey." He gave you a smile, one of those where he just closed his lips without showing his teeth. Pretty typical of him.

"Those glasses?" You smiled, trying to make conversation.

Of course, you had noticed them; how could you not? He started wearing them about a week ago, and he looked dreamy. So much so that you thought you stared at him for about five minutes straight a couple of days ago while Hotch was explaining a new case.

"Mm, the contacts were really bothering my eyes lately." He explained while continuing to prepare his coffee.

"Well, they look great on you; you look great, really handsome." You began your mission.

"They’re nothing special. I had to get anti-reflective coating because the glare was bothering me too. It’s a coating applied to both surfaces of the lenses to reduce the glare caused by reflected light." He started explaining, as he always did, not noticing your attempt to tell him he looked good.

Spencer’s obliviousness: 1 - 0 : You.

"Ah—right, yeah." You sighed and watched him leave the kitchen, giving you another one of his smiles.

Second attempt.

You were at your desks, which were next to each other, finishing paperwork from the last case.

"Are you done? It's almost lunchtime," you asked Spencer.

"I still have to finish the geographical profile," he said, looking at his papers. "But I can do it after lunch." He looked at you.

"Great! I was thinking, would you like to go to that sandwich place a couple of blocks away?"

"Oh, sure! Tito’s, right?" He said, recalling the name of the place. "Sounds great." He smiled at you.

You were a bit surprised. "Oh, really? Great—Yeah, perfect." You stumbled over your words a bit—he had just accepted a date with you!

"Great, I'll tell the others," he said as he tidied up his desk.

"Okay, sure," you replied without thinking. "Wait—what? Spencer—" Maybe you thought he accepted a date with you too soon.

"Morgan loves that place," he told you. "See you later, okay?" He smiled and left.

You sighed.

Spencer’s obliviousness: 2 - 0 : You.

You sighed again.

Hotch and JJ explained a new case to you—apparently, there was a serial killer in Mill Creek, and this other guy who called himself the "Empty Man." It seemed they had some sort of rivalry and were killing women without restraint. So now, you guys would have to travel to St. Louis to help solve the case.

Everyone boarded the plane, which took off immediately after the case was announced. Everyone was scattered around the plane, analyzing the case. You were sitting next to Reid, across from the little table that those seats have.

After that tragic and terrifying lunch, you were left thinking about the possibility that Spencer did know and was ignoring you to avoid hurting you. Maybe he just didn’t like you, which wasn’t such a big deal. But you wished that if that were the case, he would at least tell you.

"Are you okay?" you heard the voice of the man from Las Vegas next to you.

"Hm? Yeah, yeah, of course," you replied instinctively.

"You don’t seem like it," he said with a frown.

Great, now he was starting to notice things.

"Really, I’m fine. I was just—thinking," you replied honestly.

"About what?" he asked.

"About you," you blurted out. The truth was, it was now or never; it didn’t matter whether he felt the same way or not.

"Me? Why about me?" he asked, even more confused.

"You're incredible, Reid," you laughed—it was better than crying. "I’ve been trying all day to get you to notice how much I like you! And you don’t understand anything!"

Awesome.

Spencer’s obliviousness: 3 - 0 : You.

Double awesome.

"Do you like me?" Spencer said, completely clueless.

"Of course i do! Ever since I got here. And I've tried everything but—" You sighed. "You don't like me... And that's okay, I don't expect you to, I just wish you'd tell me, you know?"

Spencer let out the breath he was holding and laughed a little. "Where did you get that from? How do you think I don't like you?"

"I do?" You opened your mouth in surprise, which made him laugh.

"Of course you do," he laughed. "I just thought you were being nice to me, you're nice to everyone, I didn't think it was special with me."

"Of course you are!" You laughed.

"According to April Bleske-Rechek, the psychologist leading the task force that studied the relationship between men and women, males and females have a very different perception of the messages they receive from the opposite sex." Reid started to Reidplain as he always did. "This, especially in the case of men, leads them to misinterpret signals."

"Really?" You said sarcastically, leaning on your hand, watching him as he explained.

"Yes, which is why I thought I was misinterpreting you." He shrugged.

"Not at all." You smiled as you brushed a strand of hair off his forehead.

"We're in the middle of a case, I'd appreciate it if you two could behave," Hotch said from the back of the plane.

"Oh, right, right, yeah—I'm sorry," both of you mumbled a bunch of incoherent apologies.

Then you looked at each other out of the corner of your eye with a small smile.

Awesome.

You: 1 - 3: Spencer’s obliviousness.

Triple awesome.

Take that, silly mental scoreboard.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Imagine a villain straight refusing to fight another member of the Hero Team just cuz his hero archnemesis is not present

"Where are they?"

"Oh, not again." The protagonist could feel a headache coming on. "Look-"

"-Are they hurt?" The villain's eyes went dark and dangerous. "Who hurt them?"

"They're fine! Oh my god."

"Then where are they?"

The protagonist definitely had a headache. "It's their day off."

"They didn't tell me they had the day off. What's wrong?"

The really concerning part was that the hero probably would tell the villain which days they were working and which they weren't. The two of them were as bad as each other! The hero was going to be unbearable when they came back and found out that the team had fought the villain without them.

"Can we just get this over with?" the protagonist tried.

"No."

The protagonist sighed. They pinched the bridge of their nose and took a few deep breaths. "Okay," they said slowly. "But you realise I'm still going to have confiscate your nightmare robot."

"It's not for you. And don't think I didn't notice you dodging the question!"

The protagonist considered their options; lies, truth, everything in between.

The villain's nightmare robot hunkered down a little more pointedly in the middle of the bridge. Several people honked their horns. It was, honestly, embarrassing for everyone involved at that point.

"Their grandma died."

"Oh no." The villain's whole face softened. "Grandma L or Grandma P?"

Of course he knew the hero's grandparents. Of course he did. "Look, about the robot-"

"-I'll reschedule," the villain said.

"I can't let you keep the robot. My boss would have my head."

"That sounds like a 'you' problem. I have flowers to send."

The protagonist's eye twitched. "If you try and walk away with it-"

"-Do you really want to traumatize this entire bridge of innocent civilians?"

"I'm sure they're traumatized having to listen to you two idiots on a weekly basis."

"I'm taking the robot. When are they back?"

"They haven't said," the protagonist said, through gritted teeth. "As you know-"

"-They'll be doing all the funeral arrangements. Yeah. You know what, give me their number. I'll text them."

"I'm not giving you their number."

"Why not?"

"It's against policy."

"I'd like to express my condolences."

The protagonist looked them dead in the face. "Mm. That sounds like a 'you' problem. I have a robot to confiscate."

The robot slammed a fist into the bridge. It wobbled precariously.

The protagonist raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. They folded their arms across their chest.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" the villain snarled.

"I hate you too, don't worry."

"I should kill you."

"They'd have so much paperwork when they got back from the funeral. It would really improve their month, you killing me."

They ended up glaring at each other.

"If I give you the bloody stupid robot, will you give me their number?"

The protagonist smiled sweetly. "That's the only smart thing I've ever heard you say."

Everyone, generally, preferred it when the hero was around.

They all made sure it didn't happen again.

[sunshine-sunni]

HEYY so I was wondering if you could make a small story about Simon x New!Medic!Reader and getting interested by her because she managed to punch the daylights out of a soldier that was bothering her. And maybe out of interest getting to know each other better *wink* *wink* 😏😏

Eye-catching

Of course, he noticed you. Ghost noticed everything.

You, the shiny new recruit, brought a buzz to the force that was hard to ignore.

When Price first mentioned you, Ghost had snorted dismissively at your file. Price was adamant about your potential, swearing by the renowned doctor who had trained you and recounting your impressive handiwork he'd witnessed firsthand. Price only picked the best.

But Ghost had his reservations. In his eyes, your lack of field experience was a glaring flaw. Still, it wasn't his call to make. If Price vouched for you, Ghost would reserve judgment.

Your arrival on the base was met with indifference from Ghost. He barely acknowledged your polite "hello's" and attempts to connect. You weren't the Cap'n, and you certainly weren't Soap, who, for some unfathomable reason, couldn't stop singing your praises.

Since day one, Soap had been relentless. In the mess hall, he went on about how sweet you were and how Ghost should at least introduce himself properly—after all, you were teammates. If that wasn't enough, when Gaz got injured on a mission, you stitched him up with such skill that he barely felt any pain. Gaz, too, joined the chorus of your admirers, extolling your expert skills as a medic.

It seemed everyone on the team adored you, speaking of you as if you were a miracle worker. To Ghost, you were just a decent medic at best; he saw nothing worth bragging about.

How wrong he was.

About a month after your arrival, Ghost injured his shoulder sparring with Soap. He'd really messed it up, the strain and tension becoming a constant burden. He tried to push through it, gritting his teeth and refusing to let a mere shoulder injury slow him down. For a week, he endured, hissing in pain as he lifted weights, struggling with loads he would usually handle effortlessly. Stubborn as ever, he refused to visit the med bay.

This went on until the following week when Soap, unable to take it any longer, practically scolded the lieutenant for his hard-headedness and dragged him to the medic bay himself.

You were already in the middle of organizing supplies when Soap and Ghost walked in. Ghost, begrudgingly being led, looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. Soap's face lit up when he saw you, and he immediately started talking about Ghost's shoulder, explaining the situation while Ghost stood there, a grimace on his masked face.

You turned around, offering a warm smile despite Ghost's obvious displeasure. "Lieutenant," you greeted him politely, "why don't you have a seat, and I'll take a look at that shoulder."

Ghost hesitated but finally gave in, taking a seat on the examination table. Soap, satisfied with his handiwork, gave you a quick pat on the shoulder before leaving you to your work.

The room was quiet as you began your examination, your hands gentle but firm as you checked for any signs of injury. Ghost watched you with a mix of skepticism and curiosity, trying to gauge whether you were as good as everyone said.

"Looks like you pulled a muscle pretty badly," you said after a few minutes, "but it's nothing I can't fix." You were about to approach and help fix up the lieutenant's troublesome arm when a loud commotion erupted outside. "Excuse me, I'll be right back," you said, stepping out of your office.

An argument was unfolding between a medic-in-training you recognized as Sherry and a soldier you've heard unsavory things about named Allen. Sherry looked nervous, staring at her boots while Allen yelled at her. "I don't want some fresh-blood working on me. Where's Dr. Whitfield?"

Stepping between them, you patted Sherry on the shoulder, positioning yourself protectively in front of her. "I'm sorry, Dr. Whitfield is on family leave right now, but both Sherry and I are qualified to help."

Allen glared down at you, attempting to use his height to intimidate. "I'd rather have someone reliable to help me, not some trainee or a medic with a shiny new coat."

You smiled, recognizing his type immediately. Gently pressing a hand to his shoulder, you said, "While I understand your concern, there is no one more reliable than us, as we are directly trained under Dr. Whitfield. So please, follow me." You attempted to guide him to an empty room, but he jerked his arm away and flicked your forehead while you were stunned. "Are you hard of hearing? I just said—"

Standing your ground, you brushed off his flick and cut him off. "I heard what you said, but if you're going to be an asshole, you should go. Sherry, there's another patient down the hall."

Turning to let Sherry be on her way, you were about to head back to Ghost when Allen suddenly grabbed your wrist, forcing you to face him. "So that's it? Is no one going to tend to me?"

"I've already told you your options. You insist on rejecting what I'm offering. Now let me go." You tried to pull your arm back, but Allen's grip was relentless. His insistence on disregarding your expertise and blatant disrespect tested your patience. "Let me go."

Allen didn't take you seriously, clearly thinking he could talk to the "new kid" however he wanted. Before he could react, your fist shot out, connecting solidly with his jaw.

The impact echoed through the hall as Allen stumbled back, clutching his face in shock. The surrounding soldiers and medics turned to watch, their expressions a mix of surprise and approval.

You stepped back, maintaining your stance. "Anyone else have a problem with the medical staff?" you asked, your voice steady and commanding.

There was a brief silence before Allen, still holding his jaw, muttered something under his breath and stormed off. You returned to Ghost, an apologetic look on your face. "I'm sorry for that. Give me one minute to wash my hands."

Ghost watched as you disappeared into the bathroom within your office, absolutely stunned by what he had just witnessed. He had observed the entire ordeal, ready to intervene if necessary, but he found himself taken aback by how well you had handled the situation—better than he had expected.

The image of you standing your ground and delivering that sharp, decisive punch replayed in his mind. He had seen plenty of confrontations, both on and off the battlefield, but your composed and resolute demeanor in the face of Allen’s aggression was remarkable.

He had underestimated you, and that realization was both surprising and impressive. You weren’t just a medic; you had the grit and determination that demanded respect.

Ghost saw you through a more transparent lens. How the curve of your figure swayed as you walked, the resolute look on your face when you stood your ground, and how much you clearly loved your job.

♡! I know you said short story but you gave me an idea for atleast one or two more parts!!! I'm ngl this ask couldnt have come at a better time bc I was absolutely cooked with writers block.. thank you for your service. 💞

Ghost felt a different kind of throb and this time it wasn't his arm.

P.S. this wasn't proofread.