#not because he Wants to- god knows he's been trying to side with roman over owens

[foe-wrestling]

the cinnamon tography..............

[webshooterrr9]

dbf!miguel staying over

i mean....... i had to eventually...

w.c: 2.6k

content warning: alcohol usage, age gap (reader is 21, Miguel is 35), smut, unprotected PiV sex (wrap it before you tap it!), slight dom/sub dynamic but not really because mig is such a sweetie and reader is sassy af, teasing because mig is secretly a meanie :(, not really tho he wants it just as much as her, big scary men whimpering!!!

sorry for y'all who don't speak spanish cuz i didn't feel like adding translations because it messed up the look but dw most of it is in english

Miguel and your father have been friends since college.

When your dad needed help with homework, Miguel was there. When your dad needed someone to pass to during the game, Miguel was there. When your dad mourned the loss of your mom, taken from the world too soon, Miguel was there. There were countless nights where Miguel would tutor your dad on subjects he struggled with after missing classes to take care of you: the angel he was gifted with in high school. Although he admits you came into his life a bit too early for comfort, he has always loved and prioritized you. And Miguel quickly became your dad’s best friend because, although he never met you, he could tell just how much your father cared about you.

And so he was always there for your dad. All through college and beyond.

It wasn’t until you started college that Miguel had the pleasure of meeting you. Your dad had planned a hangout with the three of you, telling you about how important it is to have a good friend on your side, how it helped him when times got tough.

And now you’re 21 - sitting on your childhood bed after coming home from college for the summer. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been thinking about Miguel since you’ve been home. When you met him three years ago, you were somewhat intimidated by him. How could you not? Look at the sheer size of that man. But you came to know through your school breaks that he was a lot more laid-back than you previously thought. You hate to admit it, but you’ve developed a slight crush on him. It’s stupid, you know, but how could you possibly resist those deep brown eyes and that smooth baritone voice that pulls you in every time?

Knock knock “Chiquita?”

You recognized that silky tone. It was Miguel.

“Yeah?” you say, putting your phone to the side. “Come in.” The doorknob twists and your door slowly creeps open. Behind it was that beautiful man: soft brown curls, slightly hidden by a backwards cap, a strong nose, dusty jeans that hug his legs just right, and a plain white tee with a gold cross dangling from a chain around his neck. Your dad’s best friend. Miguel.

He steps into your room and lingers by the door, a lazy smile across his face.  Dios… he was something else.

“¿Qué estás haciendo, mami? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

You sit up straighter, trying not to look as lousy as you feel. He came in here looking like a goddamn Roman god and you’re just sitting in your pjs. “Just scrolling,” you reply. “Trying to enjoy my time without homework.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Your papi invited me over,” he says, stepping further into the room. “Just to catch up and share a few Modelos.”

You watch his arms cross over his chest, the sleeves of his tee tightening around his huge arms. “Doesn’t explain why you’re in here,” you say. “Shouldn’t you be out back with him, then?”

“What, ¿no puedo saludar a la hija de mi amigo?" he laughs. “That’s not fair.” he adds with a fake pout that makes you giggle.

“I didn’t say that,” you smile. He walks over and sits on the edge of your bed. You notice his watch gleam in the sunlight filtering through your windows. “Did you come here from work? Your shirt is dirty as hell.”

“You know how it is, beba. Being a blue collar worker is a tough job.”

You snort. “Please, being a mechanic is hardly blue collar work. You stay inside a garage all day.”

“My customers would beg to differ,” Miguel says. “You should see how many señoras come into my garage looking for a replacement for their shitty husbands.”

“Makes me feel like they’re tryna put a ring on it.” he wiggles his calloused fingers in front of you for added effect.

“Well, it makes sense,” you say. “You’re about their age anyway.”

“Oye!” he laughs. “I’m thirty-five, thank you very much. Not even close to their age.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever you say, viejo.”

The sun had set an hour ago and he hadn’t gone home yet.

Despite the amount of times Miguel offered to leave, not wanting to overstay his welcome, your father insisted he stay for “ten more minutes” and handed him another beer each time. The sound of the two men laughing from the living room kept you awake. It normally wouldn’t bother you, since you’re a night owl anyway, but you have plans with your friend tomorrow that you have to wake up early for.

You exit the comfort of your bedroom and head into the living room where you find Miguel and your dad chatting loudly on the couch. Miguel’s arm is draped over the back of the sofa, which accentuates his already defined chest - not to mention the dim lamp light casting beautiful shadows on his face.

“Ah, mija, there you are!” your father exclaims, very drunkenly. “I was wondering where you were. No te he visto en todo el día!”

“Lo siento, papi.” You reply, leaning against the wall. Miguel’s stare feels hot on your skin. You can see him through your peripheral vision, looking as handsome as ever.

“Es tarde en la noche, chiquita.” Miguel says, his words coming out slower due to all the Modelo in his system. “Why are you still up?”

“That’s exactly why I came in here; to tell you two to shut up.”

“¡Oye! Watch your mouth, mija.” your dad says sternly, while Miguel just chuckles.

“Sorry, pequeña,” Miguel says, setting his beer down on the coffee table. “We’ll keep it down. But don’t swear at your padre, yeah? Respect your elders.”

“Uh huh.” you shrug, waving the two men goodbye as you retire to your bedroom. You were sure that Miguel would still be there when you woke up in the morning, but hopefully he’ll be passed out by then and not still chatting with your dad.

----

You fall asleep almost immediately. The newly-installed fan in your room helped rid the summer heat and cool your bedroom to a comfortable temperature, while still allowing you to snuggle up under the blankets. A band tee and plain panties is all you wore, which was normal for you unless you were staying at a friend's house - at which point you’d obviously throw on some shorts. The moon shining through your windows acts as a sort of night-light, and you’re soothed to sleep by the crickets outside and the less-deafening sound of chatter from your living room.

Your alarm wakes you up around 8am, which is earlier than you normally start your day. As you go to turn off the noise, you hear a tired groan come from behind you. “Mmph… turn that off.”

You flinch and turn around, covering yourself with your blankets at the stranger in your bed. But it wasn’t a stranger. It was Miguel.

“Miguel!” you whisper-shout, nudging his shoulder. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

He huffs and pushes his face into your pillow, and this is your first chance to get a good look at him. He’s shirtless, of course, but his muscular frame isn’t what draws you to him. His hair is tousled from sleep in a way you haven’t seen before, a grumpy pout peeking out from the pillow he’s buried his face in. He still has his gold chain around his neck, but he seems to have discarded his hat and jeans - which you see laying on your floor. You knew this man was gorgeous… but this was the most stunning you’ve ever seen him. The morning light only makes it better.

“Tu papá durmió en el sofá,” he mumbled, the sleepiness of his voice making him sound more attractive than ever. “And his room was too hot to sleep in.”

“That doesn’t explain why you decided to crawl into my bed unannounced.” you say.

He turns his head to look at you, and one of his arms slides under his pillow to prop himself up. “Cálmate, princesa. You had tons of room and it was cool in here.”

“God, you’re annoying.”

You sit up and brush the hair out of your face, trying to wake yourself up so that you can get ready. Miguel sleepily snakes an arm around your waist and pulls you back down. Your head flops on the pillow and messes up your hair once again.

“Quédate, mami. Sleep with me.” he mumbles, closing his eyes once more.

“E-Excuse me!?” Oh you were definitely blushing now. No way he just said that! You knew that he didn’t actually mean it like that… but you also knew that he wasn’t dumb. Whether his intentions were pure or not, you knew that he worded it that way on purpose. Was your silly little crush reciprocated?

He hugs you closer to him, pulling you flush against his bare chest. The cold metal of his necklace makes you shiver, especially in contrast with how hot his body is. Temperature, you mean.

“You heard me.” he doubles down.

“Do you even-”

“I know what I said, chiquita.” Miguel opens his eyes now - the lazy drawl of his voice becoming more awake and purposeful. His gaze on you is unbearable. You could feel the intensity of his stare. “And I know what I meant.”

You stare at him in silence. How could you speak? The man who you’ve had a crush on since you started college was in your bed, half naked, making a move on you. Part of you thinks that he’s waited long enough to finally do this, but another part of you feels some sort of guilt. He’s over a decade older than you, and a family friend no less. You can see through his eyes that he feels similarly, but his passion is overpowering any sense of guilt. Besides, you’re both adults. How bad could it be?

He leans over you, pinning you down onto your own mattress. A position that’s typically domineering, and yet, you can see his gaze soften uncharacteristically for him. He brushes a strand of loose hair away from your face.

“Que linda…” he mumbles, eyes trailing all over your face. “Eres tan hermosa.”

Miguel leans his face closer to yours, his gold cross dangling from his neck and touching yours. You can feel his warm breath ghosting over your lips. You’re stunned but also… excited?

“Miguel.”

“Yes?”

“Quiero sentirte.” you whisper, your eyes meeting his. You hear his breath catch in his throat. “Tócame. Hazme el amor.”

He chuckles, a flirty pout crossing his face. “Oh, pobrecita…” he grins, tracing your jawline with his dexterous fingers. Your face tilts up closer to his, your lips brushing as he speaks. “You know I can’t do that.”

...

What?

“Why not?” he can visibly hear the disappointment in your voice. It almost makes him feel bad, especially with how beautiful you look in the morning light.

“Don’t wanna wake your papi, nena.” he caresses your face once more, leaning back a little so he can look at your face properly. “I can’t make you scream while everyone else is asleep. We have to keep this a secret. But where’s the fun in sex if I can’t hear your pretty whines, hm?”

You smack his chest. “Oh fuck off, Mig. Come here.”

Before he can respond, you grab him by his necklace and drag him down to your lips. The moment your mouths connect, it’s like fireworks going off in his head. He swears you taste better than any bizcocho he’s ever had. Miguel holds your waist as you tangle your hands through his hair, and he lets out a soft groan. His hips involuntarily rut against your thigh, and he decides he can’t take it anymore.

His hand dips between the two of you to tug your panties down, freeing your skin to his touch. His thumb lazily circles your clit, while the other calloused hand is still resting on your hips. He feels like he’s in heaven, feeling you squirm underneath him, but he knows this is only the start of the fun you’ll have together. He swallows every sound you make with his lips on yours, his tongue fighting with yours for control. He pulls his hands back once he’s sure that you’re wet and ready. You two are gasping for air by the time your lips part, and his deep eyes look into yours with a silent plea. You nod your head desperately.

Miguel makes quick work of removing what little clothes he had left on his lower body before sinking into your warmth, slowly but surely. You gasp.

He leans his forehead against yours, savoring the moment of stillness. It’s like you two are in your own little bubble - no one else can interfere. He kisses you lovingly as he starts to move, silencing any moans or sighs you might have that others could hear. You’re just for him, no one else can experience you. His thrusts are slow, but agonizingly deep. You feel it deep in your core, kissing your cervix with every push of his hips forward.

“God…” he whines. “You feel so fucking good. So good for me, baby.” You arch against him, your hands dragging along his back for support. He glances down at where your two bodies connect, and the sight almost makes him pass out. “Que cosita más linda, mami.” he whispers.

“Damelo… please..” you whine, scrunching your eyes shut with all the pleasure you feel.

“I am, nena, I am. It’s all for you, princesa. I promise.”

His pace speeds up a little more, but he’s still pushing into you just as deep, “Show me you love it, baby. Mírame.”

You meet his gaze with glassy eyes, breathing heavily and nails digging into his back. You wrap your legs around his slim waist and he throws his head back at the tighter feel. “That’s it, baby. Así así…”

He’s rutting into you wildly, chasing his high. You look down to watch as his dick disappears into your cunt. The wet sounds of his hips smacking yours clouds your mind. Each roll of his hips brings you closer to the edge. “You’re so pretty, muñeca. So so pretty f’me.”

His large hands sneak under your t-shirt and grope your tits, squeezing and caressing in a way that makes you hazy. “Want you to look at me while I fill you up. Can you do that for me, baby?”

You nod your head frantically, scratching the skin of his shoulders. You’ve never wanted anything more. The two of you are getting dangerously close to climax, and you swear you can hear him whimper.

“God, baby, feels so fucking good. No puedo más, no puedo más…!”

A squeal escapes you as he spills into your heat, with your own crescendo arriving shortly after. There’s a creamy white ring around his base as he starts to slow the roll of his hips. Miguel eventually stills and collapses, hugging you close in the same sort of cuddle as before, but still resting inside you.

After the exhaustion wears off, you pull back to stare into his eyes. A hand comes up to cup his face, rubbing his flushed cheek gently. “That was fucking amazing, Mig. I haven’t felt that good in so long.”

He laughs softly, returning your affectionate gaze. “Do you think your papi heard us?”

“Definitely not.” you giggle. “He’s a heavy sleeper.”

“That’s good.” Miguel holds you for a few more minutes, just silently staring at you. You can’t even imagine how blissed out you must look right now, but it’s all so gorgeous to him. “Eres increíble, mi vida.”

You hum in delight, stroking his cheeks once more. “You too, mi cielo.”

... you're gonna have to cancel your plans for today.

sort of switched to Miguel's pov in the last section cuz i wanted to experiment :))))

i hope you guys liked it!! dbf!miguel inspiration from @mybvalentine

and yes... he's a mechanic. it just suits him ok??

----

webshooterrr9

[bvidzsoo]

I'll go animal to keep you next to me

⭔ Stalker!Wooyoung ⭔ 

∞ Author: bvidzsoo

∞ Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x female reader

∞ Warning: stalking, mentions of murder and kidnaping ∞ Word count: 4.9k ∞ Genre: non-idol!au, mafia!au, stalker!au, university!au, strangers to enemies!au ∞ Rating: nc-17 ∞ Summary: Not having enough money to pay your monthly rent and also your college bills, you start working at a nice coffee shop. One day, a mysterious man with a little girl in his arms comes inside and orders an Iced Americano. Why is that after that day you find white roses in front of your front door each day? Who is giving them to you? And what does this mystery person want from you?

∞ A/N: Hii, lovelies! Last update for the week as I'm going on a mini-trip tomorrow ^^ Wooyoung's part looked a lot different in my mind initially, but the drabble turned out like this, I hope it's good! I might just turn my initial idea into a oneshot or smth lol. Most probably Hongjoong's part will be next when I sit down to continue this mini-series, so keep an eye out for that. I'm not starting a taglist for this one, sorry<3 (you'll have to lurk around) Feedback is much appreciated and I hope you enjoy!

⭔  Listen to this before or while reading! ^^

∥ Hongjoong ∥ Seonghwa ∥  Yunho ∥ Yeosang ∥ San ∥ Mingi ∥ Wooyoung ∥ Jongho ∥ 

            How we perceive others is a peculiar and particular thing. How others perceive us is another thing we do not have power over. Sometimes, people can tell when somebody isn’t a good person, and sometimes, somebody manages to hide their dark side so well you wouldn’t even know until their mask slips and their true nature starts showing through the cracks. A good-hearted person will always try to see the good in everyone, in everything around them despite their friends' warnings about said somebody. A kind person will try and ignore all the red flags they seem to be getting from said somebody in favor of writing it off as paranoia. Because a handsome man with a sharp jawline and a Roman nose, high-pitched laughter that sounds like a witch's laughter, and is good with children cannot be a crazed man, right? He cannot hide his ugly nature underneath this perfect mask that seldom cracks, seldom.

I had met him in a coffee shop while I was on my shift, desperate for this part-time job to keep the bills paid as my parents paid for my university. It was a fair arrangement, I had been on board with the idea, but after they had to lay me down at my previous well-paying job, I was rather desperate and accepted almost any job to be able to pay this month’s rent. The coffee shop was in a relatively safe part of the city and was usually frequented by college students, so I had never truly felt unsafe. The bus station was right in front of it, so I didn’t even have to walk through dodgy alleyways to get home, or anything. Yet, somehow, when a man who looked like he was sculpted by a Greek God walked inside the coffee shop, my heart dropped and my arms got covered in goosebumps. It wasn’t even from his unnatural beauty; it was due to this very quiet voice in the back of my mind warning me that he was dangerous. But that voice must’ve been wrong because there was no way in hell a little girl would be clinging to his side and calling him uncle if that were the case. So, against my better judgment, I had ignored the warning voice, and instead, smiled widely as they arrived at the counter, our coffee shop’s welcoming speech rolling off my tongue like second nature.

Despite silencing the already quiet voice, I couldn’t shut down my body’s natural reactions to the man and I found myself having to force the smile to stay on my face, averting my eyes onto the young girl to try and remain genuine.

“I’d like an Iced Americano, Y/N.” Hearing him say my name made me blanch for a second, eyebrows furrowing as I wondered from where he had known my name until I remembered my nametag.

“Will that be all, sir?” I had asked with a polite smile as the little girl whined and pointed at the chocolate chip cookies we had in the fridge and the man, who looked barely a few years older than me, hummed and looked at me with his sharp eyes. They softened whenever he looked at the little girl and then grew harsh anytime he looked at me. His gaze was calculating and scrutinizing almost, full of wonder for a second before he was smiling dashingly, taking me off guard. I had seen many handsome men in my life before, but there was something almost ethereal to him. His dark hair fell around his face in untended curls making it look natural yet attractive. Something about his eyes made his gaze look almost lazy yet filled with sharpness, the mole right underneath his eye giving his already unusual face a charming glow.

“Two chocolate chip cookies, Y/N.” And there he was, saying my name again with a certain edge to it, and I gulped as I nervously typed in the rest of his order, telling him the total after I checked whether he needed anything else. The little girl had started singing as I got to brew his Iced Americano, and I could feel the man’s watchful eyes follow my every move as he muttered something to the little girl occasionally as he took her into his arms. I tried to calm my nervously beating heart, not quite understanding why I was having such a visceral reaction to the man. The warning voice I managed to silence in my mind was certainly gone, yet I couldn’t find it in myself not to flinch slightly away when I handed his drink over and our fingers touched accidentally. The man’s eyebrows had raised as a dangerous smirk painted his lips as he took the red straw between his teeth, waiting for me to bag the two chocolate chip cookies. Handing them over too, the little girl took one of the bags happily and pressed a sweet kiss against the man’s cheek, making him chuckle as he threw a glance at the cute girl. But then, the other bag was placed back onto the counter and slid towards me.

“For you, pretty girl.” My heart had halted as his pressing gaze bore into mine, making my cheeks flush as I stumbled through my words to thank him for his unnecessary kindness, “My name’s Wooyoung.”

And then he was gone with the little girl, the straw of his drink still between his teeth and pretty lips as he put on his shades, tickling the little girl’s side, making her giggle as she had dirtied her mouth with the chocolate from her cookie. After that first encounter, I had forgotten about Wooyoung rather quickly, with too many worries on my shoulders and too many new faces entering the coffee shop daily, making it hard to remember just one person, but perhaps it would’ve been smarter if I had remembered him. Wooyoung. White roses started showing up in front of my flat’s door every day after that warm day at the coffee shop, and I had no idea who they were from.

            The second time, based on my recollection, when I saw Wooyoung again—not that I could be sure of it—was on a random Friday night, months after having met him at the coffee shop, in an overcrowded club as I was celebrating my friend’s birthday with a large group of friends. Most of us have met at our university courses, some of us have known each other since highschool. I was relatively new to the group but they were nice and rather protective of me, I felt safe and appreciated with them. Not being a huge fan of clubbing and the sweaty crowd, I needed a few drinks in my system to make me loosen up, so, it was no surprise that I was tipsy not long after we arrived at the place. I couldn’t pre-game with them as I was on the afternoon shift at the coffee shop and had to lock up, but due to my low alcohol tolerance, it came as no problem catching up with their intoxicated states.

The music was loud and the flashing lights blinded me every few minutes, but I was enjoying myself. Arms high up in the air and hips swaying to the beat, I was surrounded by my friends who were screaming the lyrics to the songs that were played, and I finally felt free after ages. It was refreshing, relaxing, and most of all…I finally felt stress-free. I was enjoying myself, laughing and playing around as my friends and I played random dance challenges on the dance floor, roping in a few others as well as they seemed to be amused by our shenanigans. I felt eyes on me all night, a heavy and intense gaze, but I couldn’t pinpoint just one person. Perhaps it didn’t help that my vision was hazy from all of the alcohol I had consumed, but I didn’t feel uncomfortable. We were in a club, after all, everyone was looking at everyone, surveying the crowd and the people, probably looking for someone to hook up with for the night.

When my throat had started feeling parched and my stomach a little unsure, I pulled aside one of my friends and told her I needed a drink. She was eager to accompany me to the bar and I was even more eager to down a whole bottle of water in under a few seconds. My friend chuckled and asked for another one, knowing that I would need it, and she was right, the second bottle of water was gone in no time too, but this time I did share it with her as well. I wasn’t as thirsty as seconds before. But we weren’t satiated just yet, so, my friend asked for two rounds of some sour shots that I didn’t care to memorize the name of and once we had downed them, I was positive I would be throwing up in the morning with a head-splitting headache on the horizon. But that was tomorrow me’s problem, tonight was about having fun.

Just as my friend and I had decided to head back to the dance floor, the tall bartender came over with a pink and orange-looking cocktail, motioning for me to lean closer as his voice wasn’t audible over the loud music and even louder crowd. Apparently, the drink was from someone sitting down at the bar, and the bartender had said the man wanted me to know that a pretty girl like me deserves a sweet drink. Finding no harm in that, I thanked the bartender and tried to find the man, but upon being unsuccessful, I allowed my friend to lead the way back to our friend group as we shared my drink, which was definitely too sweet. Despite being curious of who the mystery man was that bought the drink for me was, I never came across him. Feeling those piercing eyes on me continued throughout the night, but I never quite seemed to make eye contact with anyone who could’ve been the culprit. I suppose it was meant to stay as a mystery. It also didn’t help that in a confusing flash of moment when someone crashed into me from behind and I turned to look at them, I had thought it was Wooyoung, from the coffee shop. But before I could actually make out his face, he was gone.

Underneath the blinding lights, as I was guided by my intoxicated mind, sometime along the night, I had felt arms sneak around my waist and then a broad chest pressing up against my back. I didn’t find it in me to complain and shake the man off, instead, I turned in his embrace and danced the night away by his side, vision too hazy to see his face clearly. But he was tall and he had muscles that could certainly crush my skull if put in a headlock, not that I thought he was dangerous or had evil motives, it was simply an observation that entered my fuzzy mind. But despite us enjoying each other’s company and even finding common ground in surprising subjects, after the man had excused himself to the restroom, he never returned. I was confused for a while until I realized he had probably found himself another company, and I couldn’t blame him or feel bad about it. We were here to have fun and if he found someone more suitable, that was alright. It’s not like I had found my soulmate in him.

What I didn’t expect, however, was to find another white rose in front of my door two days after clubbing with an added gift box to it. It was peculiar, it made me feel uneasy, but I’ve been receiving these roses for four months now, however, the gift was unusual. I still couldn’t figure out from who the roses were from, and despite my friends advice of reporting it to the police, I kept it to myself for now. What were they going to do? Probably send me back home after they tell me they can’t do anything about it, unless I was actually harmed, or this mystery person shows their face. Another shocking development to my day was switching on the TV as I wiped my kitchen clean, gasping and feeling faint for a second as despite my hazy memories I could recognize the face of the missing person they had shown in the news. Apparently, his name was Kim Mingyu, and he had been missing for exactly two days. It’s been exactly two days since we’ve been clubbing, and suddenly, I wasn’t so sure he didn’t return to me because he found somebody else to mingle with. As I went to phone my friend in a confused and worried frenzy, I realized the consistent eyes I had felt on me at the club had disappeared just as Mingyu had gone to the restroom.

I was scared to open the gift box, and when I did, my eyes widened and I panicked, scared to even touch the necklace that was so obviously Kim Mingyu’s. A letter with few words on it had been slipped inside it, underneath the necklace, and it read, ‘Pretty thing he was, unfortunate that he had to go so early on’. Instead of phoning my friend, I phoned the police.

            A month had passed and Kim Mingyu was nowhere to be found. I hadn’t known him for long, but it pained me that police could find no leads on him. I was ruled out as a suspect after I called and informed them of the box put in front of my door and they came to speak to me. The investigation was still ongoing, and I was asked to be very cautious as apparently whoever hurt him was the one probably sending me the roses. Rightfully so, I have grown paranoid and scared for my safety, often times I would only leave my apartment if one of my friends could accompany me. I still couldn’t give up my job, so most of the time I just sucked it up and put aside my fear, knowing that I was the safest I could be at the coffee shop with all the cameras in and outside, as well, watching and surveying everything. The roses never stopped showing up, and if at first I found them beautiful and kept them, now they lay in a pile in the trashcan, thrown out every day before I left for my classes. The grounds of the university were safe too. The only time I actually felt scared for my safety was when the crowd wasn’t big, or when I heard footsteps outside my flat. It could’ve only been my neighbors, but I still couldn’t know for sure.

Tonight, however, I finally gave in to my friends' naggings and went out to a barbeque with them. They were worried about me and I could understand them. They rarely saw me now, unless they would come over for the night or walk with me to my destinations. It was hard, I was trying to return to normal and ignore this weird paranoid feeling that I was constantly being watched, even inside my apartment. My gut had twisted before I left my flat, the quiet voice in the back of my mind warning me to stay out of my flat tonight, to just sleep over at my friend’s house, but I couldn’t do that. Her boyfriend was coming over and I didn’t want to be a burden. I already felt bad for always needing someone to be by my side, I didn’t want to inconvenience her even more. I was a big girl and I could take care of myself, it was just that stupid voice trying to scare me and nothing else. I was safe, besides, if whoever was sending me roses hadn’t approached me after five months of possible stalking, then I was alright, they certainly wouldn’t approach me now.

It was past eleven in the evening when I finally made my way home, belly full and tummy hurting from continuous laughter, body and mind at ease from having been with my friends who knew how to up-lift my spirits. I felt fine, serene even, and perhaps the fact that there wasn’t a rose in front of my door today only added onto feeling less worry. Perhaps this somebody had gotten bored of me, finally realized there was nothing special about me, or even fun. I unlocked my door and walked inside my small hallway, dropping my bag onto the floor as I stepped out of my shoes and wore my slippers, hanging my coat onto the hanger. I grabbed a hair tie from the small bowl on the shelf and tied my hair in a low bun, excited to shower and change into my pajamas and perhaps read a bit before going to bed. I had the morning shift tomorrow and I didn’t want to go to bed too late tonight. But as I started shuffling towards my bathroom, I froze in my steps as I realized there was light humming coming from the kitchen and the aroma of multiple foods combined in the air.

My muscles grew tense as I felt around my jeans for my phone, feeling dread when I realized I had left it in my bag, which was on the floor in the small hallway. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I started tiptoeing back to the hallway, but jumped and almost screamed when a body in the darkness rounded the corner, leaning against the wall. The person was now blocking my way towards the hallway and I gulped as my heart started racing, eyes narrowing as I tried to see through the darkness and recognize the person. Perhaps it was one of my friends’, it must be them. I has to be them.

“You’re home later than I expected.” I shuddered as I exhaled, the voice unfamiliar as my heart now beat even faster. So it wasn’t any of my friends. This wasn’t good.

“I—I was out with my—friends.” My voice sounded unsure, and I tried not to tremble too much as the person hummed nodding. I still couldn’t see their face; the blinds were drawn in the living room and I realized it wasn’t me who left them like that.

“You threw my roses away.” The voice sounded disappointed, accusing. I gulped, feeling a chill run down my spine as I eyed the exit. I needed to do something, I couldn’t just stand here and wait for something horrible to happen to me.

“There, uh, there were too many of them.” I whispered, fumbling with my hands as the person just hummed again then sighed loudly.

“Did you have fun at the barbeque, pretty girl?” I gasped quietly as he asked that question, making me shake as I realized he hadn’t only been sending me flowers, he was probably watching my every step. Had this person been inside my flat before? Were there cameras inside? I felt like crying, but I quickly swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to keep my composure.

“It was alright.”

“I cooked us dinner.” I bit my lower lip and flinched as the man pushed off the wall, approaching me very slowly as if he waiting to see if I would run away or not. I did think of running away, but I had no idea whether he was armed or not, whether he’d try to kill me or not if I flee. Not that I was safer staying put, my last dying hope was in talking my way out of this.

“I’m starving.” I lied through my teeth as the man chuckled, a low rumble, and then finally stopped just a few steps in front of me. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked up in his eyes, searching his face to familiarize myself with his features in case I do make it to the police to report him, but I was taken aback when I realized he seemed somewhat familiar. A sharp jawline and a Roman nose, asymmetrical eyes and a sharp gaze, I had seen him before. Months ago, perhaps at the coffee shop. Perhaps he was the man with the little girl. I needed a second to remember his name as my eyes stopped on the mole underneath his eye.

“Wooyoung?” I whispered uncertainly, flinching away when he reached a hand out towards.

“I knew you’d remember me, pretty girl.” He whispered smirking, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he touched my hair despite me trying to cower away, “Look at you, you’re prettier than I remembered you were.”

I gulped and tried to take a deep breath as Wooyoung stepped closer, making me back away, but then he was gripping my arm painfully and I froze, heart beating out of my chest in fright.

“Don’t lie to me.” Suddenly his voice dropped octaves and I shuddered as his grip tightened, making me wince, “How can you be hungry when you’ve been to a barbeque?”

“I didn’t eat much; I didn’t have an appetite.” I was quick with my lie as I tried to smile at him, arms covered in goosebumps as he traced his fingers down my skin, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. The quiet voice in my mind was loud now and my gut was twisting painfully, making me wish I had listened to the warnings before it was too late. Could I escape this man? What should I do now?

“Is that so?” Wooyoung hummed, grabbing my hand in his as I nodded wordlessly, my body refusing to move when he pulled me after himself. His hand was cold, his fingers decorated by chunky rings, “Won’t you have dinner with me?”

“Ye-yes.” I stuttered and forced my legs to move after him, to follow him towards the kitchen just around the corner as I desperately glanced towards my small hallway, wishing that I had some telekinesis powers to make my phone come to me.

“And how was your day, pretty girl?” Wooyoung’s voice was warm and pleasant as he led me inside the kitchen, making my mouth fall open in shock at the sight. The table was set beautifully with candles in the middle and a huge bouquet of white roses in a vase that wasn’t mine. Wooyoung walked me to the chair that was furthest from the door and pulled it out for me, smiling cheekily as I gulped and remained standing. He said nothing as our eyes met again under the candlelight and I was losing the battle of trying to stay calm as my muscles started contracting, my heart beating too fast. I felt trapped in my own flat, threatened and unsafe with a man that broke in and had been stalking me for almost half a year now.

“It was—what do you want?!” I snapped, finally losing my cool as Wooyoung just chuckled, leaning his hip against the chair as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“You don’t have to be scared of me, if I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done so a long time ago, pretty girl—”

“Stop calling me pretty girl!” My voice was shaky as I snapped, eyeing the table as I lunched for a knife before he could stop me. I held it in front of myself as I felt panic finally overtake my body and mind, making my hands shake uncontrollably and chest rise and fall rapidly.

“But you are a very pretty girl, Y/N.” Wooyoung pouted, looking down at the butter knife in my hand with an amused expression, “Since you seem scared, I’ll be honest with you. I want…you.”

I gulped as my eyebrows furrowed, growing more confused and scared by the minute. Wooyoung didn’t say anything else just stood up straight and stalked towards me with a confident stride, lips pulling into a menacing smirk again. I raised the knife as my hand shook, and lurched forward with zero intent of actually stabbing him, perhaps I hoped it would intimidate him. But before I could blink, he gripped my wrist harshly and twisted it until I dropped the knife with a pained cry, face scrunching up in pain as I was whirled around and immobilized by Wooyoung’s arms as he pulled me against his body, his warm lips pressing against my ear as his hot puffs of breath made me shiver. I was breathing loudly as Wooyoung hummed quietly, the hand that was still holding my wrist loosened slightly as his fingers started caressing my skin. It made my stomach churn as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it wasn’t working too well.

“Let go of me.” I tried to demand, but it came out as a helpless whisper and I felt Wooyoung’s lips press against my temple, making me flinch as I tried to trash around, but despite his lanky form he was strong. Way too strong, and I realized I had no chance of escaping unless he allowed me to.

“But if I let go of you, you will run, Y/N, and I can’t have that happening.” Wooyoung muttered and then sighed as if this was inconvenient to him, “I don’t want to watch you from the shadows anymore, I’ve done that enough. It’s time we get to know each other like normal people—”

“There’s nothing normal about this situation right now, Wooyoung.” I cut him off with a snare, trying to yank myself free again, “You’ve been stalking me for months.”

“Indeed,” Wooyoung confirmed and I felt like throwing up, “but that was because I had some pretty bad business to take care of first. If people would’ve seen us together they would have targeted you, and I can’t have that happening.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked in a whisper and stumbled forward as Wooyoung suddenly released me as I tugged against his arms again. I ran into a chair and caught myself just seconds before falling over. I eyed the exit as Wooyoung cleared his throat behind me.

“I have many enemies, Y/N.” Wooyoung spoke up with a casualty to his voice, and I glanced back and watched as he popped a grape in his mouth, giving me a questioning look, “Can’t have you kidnapped and tortured.”

That was all I needed to hear as I bolted towards the front door and tried to grab my bag too in the process, but realized I didn’t have time if I wanted to free myself. But as I threw the door open, I was met with two huge men blocking the doorway. They were dressed in black suits and had sunglasses on despite being inside. I gasped as they didn’t even look at me and whirled around as Wooyoung came walking to the hallway with a tsk rolling off his tongue.

“You’re making this more dramatic than it’s supposed to be, pretty girl.” I tried to scurry away from him but he marched up in my face in no time and grabbed the back of my head as I tried to fight him off, but as his eyes hardened, I knew it would be best to just obey him and stop fighting, “I like you and if you don’t stop trying to run away I will take you away with me by force, Y/N. I’m giving you two choices. One, you shut up about this and don’t go to the police, you let me take you out and we’ll see how our relationship develops from there on. Two, I knock you out right now and take you back to my highly guarded and isolated mansion and you’ll never see your loved ones or anyone you knew before. Which one will you choose?”

I was shaking as I tried to gulp, but my throat was dry and my eyes shook as they filled with tears as I clawed at his arm holding my head, “First option, I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“Good girl.” Wooyoung grinned as he bit his lower lip, eyes taking in my face as he leaned close until our foreheads pressed together, “I’ve been waiting for this since the moment I saw you cross the road and walk up to the coffee shop, ready to start your shift, Y/N.”

My heart stopped as a tear rolled down my cheek, “You’re insane.”

“I’m just a man bewitched by you.” Wooyoung retorted with a cackle and I yanked myself away as he released me and gave me a scrutinizing stare, “You don’t have to eat dinner, I know you’re full, but I’ll be back in the morning to take you out for breakfast. Now get some rest.”

I scowled when his lips touched my cheek and Wooyoung just chuckled and walked around me towards the bodyguards who stepped aside and made way for their boss. I turned to watch him with a frown, mind torn between what I should do next. But the wink he sent me before he closed the door and I heard his footsteps fade into the background, I knew Wooyoung wasn’t to be messed with. He really would kidnap me if I didn’t do as he wished. Just who is he and will I ever get away from him? What had I done to earn his attention? I fell to the ground as the tears finally fell free, wrecking my body painfully as I sobbed.

If I ran away, would he find me?

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[alessiathepirate]

The Fate of the Furious

ALIVE: Deckard Shaw x fem!reader

Summary: She thought Deckard Shaw died - yet luckily he didn't. After joining the crew on the rooftop, he had some explaining to do.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

A quiet thank you for my friend who watched these movies with me during a movie night. I love you <3

Warnings: swearing, mentioned violence and death

•••

"Oh, this will be good." Roman said to Tej as he poked - or rather punched - his arm. Both of them looked at the scenario in front of them, suddenly forgetting about their bickering over Ramsey.

Perhaps if things went differently, they'd stop arguing to quietly laugh at Shaw carrying a baby - only silently, because they perefer living over dying. Shaw with a baby was something they couldn't imagine at all, yet the thing Roman pointed out wasn't the baby. No, it was Shaw himself, who clearly overestimated his self-worth if he showed up there after the stunt he pulled.

And just in time, the girl whose feelings were very obviously hurt because of the said stunt noticed Shaw's arrival - and she looked like she's seen a ghost.

"No way, man. I really don't want to see this." Tej answered unsurely, leaning back in his seat.

"You won't want to miss it either. She'll kick his ass, that's for sure." In no other scenario would Roman dare to say that - the guy might have super hearing or something.

And just like that, the show started.

"You dick!" the shouting was so loud everyone's gaze was on her, but then - after understanding the situation - they decided to look away, not wanting to become a target of her wrath. "You absolute fucking asshole!"

"Come on, sweetheart, don't curse in front of the-"

"Don't you act like you suddenly give a shit about someone!"

"Oh, he fucked up!" Roman laughed in his seat.

"He fucked up big time." Tej agreed, and it was very rare that they did.

"No way I'd be him right now..."

Her expression was a mixture of anger and hurt, and she very clearly didn't want anyone else there to intervene - no man would dare to either way and they wouldn't succeed in doing so without getting a punch to the face.

But Letty, understanding her feelings because she was the only one she had talked to about them, did her best to diffuse the situation - in front of the child at least.

"I'll take him, don't you worry." she took the infant seat from Shaw, who had the expression of betrayal on his face.

"Thanks for your help, now why don't you go and talk this out?" if Dom's voice was anything to go by, he secretly very much enjoyed seeing Shaw's face as his son, the safety blanket he could hide behind was taken from him.

"Yeah, why don't we go and talk this out, Shaw?"

Ramsey gasped behind them and Dom patted Shaw on the back, sending him the luck he'll need. Roman poked Tej on the arm again, Hobbs chuckled from not so far away.

Deckard Shaw must have fucked up big time - he himself knew that too. It's been months since she called him Shaw. He was never Shaw, only Deckard or maybe if he was lucky enough, Deck. But he was never ever Shaw.

"All right, let's talk this out, sweetheart."

She hugged herself with her arms, not giving him the opportunity to hold onto her hand. Deckard didn't try to do so though, he understood where the line was and he didn't want to overstep it.

They walked to the other side of the roof, away from their gazes and voices, and only then did her eyes start to water.

Deckard wasn't good at apologies, but even he knew that's the time for one. She's hurt and rightfully so, but he didn't mean to hurt her at all. God, he'd go to Hell and back for her and he knew she'd do the same - they knew more than a few things about the other and they liked the other even if they don't like many people.

But now she's sad and hurt - and angry, because of Deckard and he didn't know what he should do to make it better.

"Sweetheart, I-"

"No, don't you fucking sweetheart me." Sweetheart was the petname Deckard saved for her and didn't use it on anybody else. "I thought you died, do you know how that feels? I thought you fucking died!" she grabbed onto the railing to try and regain her strength. "Do you know that I cried for you? I fucking cried for you. I almost went after Dom by myself to hurt him like he hurt me and Dom is my friend!"

He put his hand on her shoulder and she let him, but she didn't look at him at all.

"And then you just call me to tell me everything is okay, I- I don't know what hurt more: that you didn't tell me or that you don't trust me enough to tell me stuff like that."

"I trust you. I trust you and I don't trust anybody else." Deckard touched both of her shoulders to turn her towards him.

He expected her to be angry or sad, he even expected a punch to the face, like when she playfully hit him after a way too bad one liner on a mission. But she didn't do any of that.

No, she was crying. And if Deckard was bad at apologies, then he was even worse at comforting crying women - especially someone he genuinely cares about.

"Why didn't you tell me not to worry?" her voice was high pitched, the kind Deckard hadn't heard before. She never cried. He hadn't seen her cry.

He made her cry.

"Because I needed her to believe it."

It was a poor excuse. He knew it - she knew it.

Yet it was still better than not saying anything or him just saying a 'fuck you'.

"So you're okay? Not even a small cut?" she asked looking at his face, trying to find some scars.

"You know me, sweetheart." he smiled and she was the only one who has ever seen him smile. "And I know you too, so if you'll punch me please tell me so I can get ready."

She chuckled. "Because?"

"Because your punches are really fucking strong."

That was the kind of compliment Deckard Shaw gave her, the kind only she recieved and no one else. And she smiled at that too, even if her eyes were still teary and the pain and fear didn't fully go away.

"I don't want to punch you."

"Really?" he had a suspicion that she really wanted to.

"Really. I just got you back and you want me to hurt you straight away?"

"I'd let you and I'd deserve it too."

He really meant that, she thought as she examined his face, trying to find some dishonesty. She couldn't find any - but to her surprise, his eyes were soft. There was some softness in there, the kind no one's ever seen, because they didn't deserve to see it.

"No, just..." she wiped away the tears and pushed his hands off her shoulders as she leaned against the railing. "I just want you to promise me that you'll tell me- the next time, because in a job like ours there will be a next time for sure."

"Yeah, I promise."

She smiled softly, her wrath slowly disappearing and tiredness took its place. She looked tired.

"You know, we never really talk about it, but just so you know, you mean a lot to me." she said quietly, as if she's confessing something she's not ready for yet. "And I mean it. I really do. No joke or anything."

"I know." he really knew, and he also knew that not many people would do that for him. "And I'd kill for you."

"I know, you already did." she chuckled. "And not even once."

"They deserved it."

"In your eyes everyone deserves to die who looks at us the wrong way." she said remembering all the times Deckard decided to pull out a gun to shoot someone who was unfriendly. "Actually, I'm surprised Hobbs is still with us."

"I promised to fight him one day."

"Yeah, I'm not surprised about that at all." she looked at the others who sat around the table talking. "You'd win."

"I know I would."

"But he'd kick your ass too. He asked me if I want him to do that after the stunt you pulled. I said I'd think about it."

"And what do you think?"

"You'd deserve it, but I'm leaning towards a no."

Deckard laughed and so did she. It was good to laugh with him again.

They stayed quiet after that. She didn't know what else to say or rather how she should talk about the things she should definitely talk about. She thought of the last few hours and days, how Letty was there for her after Deck's fake death - and what they talked about. How she regretted not telling him the things she wanted to.

"I didn't mean it like that." she spoke up after a while. "When I said you mean a lot to me." she had his full attention, she knew it and felt it in his gaze. "I meant that I think about you as more than a friend."

She continued to look at her friends again, watched as they laughed and talked. Dom had his son in his arms and Roman and Tej were arguing again. She focused on every small detail instead of looking Deck in the eyes.

"I know what you meant sweetheart. That's what I meant when I said I'd kill for you." she had to look at him when his hand was on hers. "I just can't let them see me as a softie, can I?"

He was teasing her and he was grinning, and in that moment for her he was the most lovable, playful asshole in the whole world.

"You dick!" she shouted with a laugh as she hit his arm and she felt the others' eyes on herself. "You come back from the dead and you act like this? I should let Hobbs kick your ass. Being soft with me is the least you can do to apologize."

"I knew you wanted to hit me."

She hit him on the arm again - this time the both of them were grinning like idiots and she wouldn't have it any other way.

"Of course I do. This is the worst love confession I've ever seen."

"But you wouldn't have me any other way."

"That's right, I wouldn't. I'd be way too bored without you in my life."

This time he caught her arm before it could land and his hold on her wrist was gentle. That hand could kill and punch - and he looked damn good when he did that -, but it would never ever hurt her. Not intentionally.

They both leaned in to kiss the other - and they most likely argued about who had the balls to initiate the first kiss later. It was a great kiss, a damn good one. The one what's full of passion and emotion, the one that made her stomach tighten.

"I love you, you idiot, but if you act like you're dead in front of me ever again I--" he kissed her again to shut her up.

"I love you too."

"So much for not being a softie." she giggled as she hugged him, hiding her face from everyone - because she was grinning like an idiot in love.

"You won't let this one go, will you?"

"Not at all." she answered. "By the way, just so you know, Dom wasn't the only one who called your mother."

"You did not call my mother."

"I didn't want to punch you, but she'll definitely scold you for me."

She smirked as she saw his expression. "You're one evil woman."

"But you wouldn't have me any other way." she quoted.

On the other side of the roof the table was set a long time ago and everyone was waiting for the two of them to join in so they can start to eat. Although watching the drama before eating wasn't too bad either.

"You know, as much as I dislike him, I'm happy she's happy." Ramsey said after the pair kissed.

"I was right man, I really didn't want to see that." it was Tej's turn to poke Roman, who only stared at Deckard and her in disbelief.

"I expected more drama." Rome said with clear disappointment in his voice. "And why is she in love with the guy? What does he have that I don't?"

"Why don't you go ahead and tell that to him yourself. I'm sure he'd happily answer you with a punch." Tej teased him with a grin. "Go ahead boss, ask him."

"I hate you all..."

[sillyteecup]

That Dam attitude

Jey Uso × black!reader

Warnings:

18+

Strong language

Suggestive content

Violence, I guess? (don't thump your partners with ores)

Translation: Thixo=God

~A.N: This is me, entering the Bloodline community with a little love for Jey (I need Triple H to stop playing with him and give him a title opportunity) while working on that little Roman AU. Hope you like it. Enjoy. ❤️

30 minutes. That's how long Josh had been sitting on the other side of their shared kayak pouting like a 5 year old. Arms folded, lips pressed, eyebrows furrowed-the whole package. All because he much rather would've stayed back at their booked villa fucking instead of actually adding some adventure to their vacation.

And Siya, was frankly tired of it. "Not you still sitting over there pouting and shit," she commented with an annoyed look on her face.

Looking equally vexed, he replied, "Not you got us in the middle of the fucking ocean at 8 am on vacation," to which Siya rolled her eyes.

"First of all, dumbass it's a dam. Second of all, I did not come all the way out here to fuck, sleep, eat and repeat, I came out here to have fun and relax," she said. The fact that they were in Cape Town where there was so much to see and do (for Josh anyway since Siya had been there plenty of times as a child) and all he wanted to do was move like a damn Neanderthal amazed her. Fucking men.

"Oh, and praytell Siya, which part of any of this is fun or relaxing?" he asked incredulously, gesturing at the kayak. "And I want you to think very carefully about your answer because if you tell me some bullshit about connecting with nature, I will flip this bitch over and we gon' swim back to the dock," he warned.

At this, Siya's eyes narrowed. There was no way this man was serious. "So you, Joshua Fatu, mean to tell me that you would trade in all of this natural beauty and peace for sex? Is that what you're saying to me right now?" They were on a kayak on the Waterfront dam with a perfect view of the Table mountain and the overall serene vibe of one of the most beautiful cities in Africa. And this man wanted to trade that in for some pussy? Bomb pussy, that is but semantics.

He smirked. "Ey ma, let's just say I'd prefer to be knee-deep different type of natural beauty, know what I'm sayin'?" he said, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Usually she'd find this funny and fold like a pretzel, but this time around her pussy was sore from all the work he'd been putting in since they landed 2 days prior, she was already running out of thongs since he kept tearing them off her (with the promise to buy her ne ones of course) and frankly, she was starting to miss being able to walk without holding onto something for support. As a matter of fact, part of her had actually considered having him admitted into a rehab because his addiction to her cooch was on its way to paralyzing her from the waist down.

"You need help. Professional help," she snarked, pointing her acrylic decorated nail at him, making him chuckle.

"Girl you better stop acting like you don't like creaming on this shit," he laughed, right as an older white couple rowed by. They looked aghast, as though they'd heard his comment, which mortified Siya.

"Joshua!" she scolded before apologizing profusely to the other couple, who continued clutching their pearls while they did their best to get as far away as possible from the younger pair. She shot Josh a deadpan look, one he responded to with an innocent shrug.

"Look babygirl, ain't my fault white folk can't mind their business," he said defensively.

Siya lifted her ore and gently thumped him on the head with it, making him hiss. "No, but your big ass mouth yelling our business for the whole fucking continent to hear is your fault. No home training, I swear," she complained as she continued to row.

Still rubbing his head and trying to row with one hand, he frowned. "Oh but when you're the one hollering at the top of your lungs for me to fuck you like a little slut while doin' tricks on the dick, might I add, it's all good?" Josh retorted, to the horror of another older couple rowing by.

"Thixo," Siya heard the older woman gasp. She sent the lady an apologetic smile and let out a string of "sorries" in Xhosa, before turning to glare at Josh again.

"The fuck all these old people doing out here so early anyway?" he exclaimed, albeit, quietly. "This is a sign if you ask me."

Siya was seething. "Fuck, you," she hissed with a deadly glare to match.

"Tuh, I wish you would," Josh replied, earning another, this time less gentle, thump to the side of his head. He raised his eyebrows, challenging his girlfriend to do it again. "Girl, you better stop playing with me, 'else it won't be no discussion."

Another thump.

"Siya," he warned, mildly irritated.

Usually she would stop but this time she was annoyed by his prior antics. "Joshua," she mocked him, moving to deal another thumped, only for him to grab her ore.

His face was set in stone. He definitely wasn't playing anymore. "Stop it," he commanded.

Siya however, was not moved in the slightest. "Or what?" she challenged.

He leaned closer to her, careful not to tip the kayak over as no one was rowing at the moment. "Keep fucking around and you gon' find out real soon," he growled.

Siya kissed her teeth defiantly. "You ain't gon' do shit."

Josh chuckled darkly as he sat back up straight. This girl was clearly dead set on testing his patience and she was gonna reap what she sowed. She didn't know it yet, (or maybe she did) but as soon as they got back to that villa he was gonna put her back in her place and fix that damn attitude.

[bowieandqueen11]

Celebrating Roman Roy’s Birthday Would Include...

Request: OOOOOH i have one if you don't mind. how about hcs for celebrating roman's birthday? cause as we know when it comes to roys there's inevitably Something Traumatic happening on every holiday, i just want him to have a good day with someone who loves him🥺

Love honestly so true he deserves someone to just love him without condition :( I am FEELING

Warning: strong language, implied eating disorder and mentions of childhood mental/physical abuse!

(I do not own Succession or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @bettercallgerri.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Roman Roy decided very early on the day to make an incredibly sensible decision. For the next twenty three and a half hours, he was going to ignore his phone every time it started vibrating in his jacket pocket, and irritated the skin against his breast. He was going to squeeze his eyes shut, and pick at his fingernails when at one in the afternoon, on the dot, his sister would send exactly the same generic fruit basket for his birthday as she did the previous year. He would crinkle his nose in irritation when the eldest Roy sent him a comic voicemail about how ‘he was still that little pup that threw a fish at him’ during their camping trip, despite his age.

And worst of all, and perhaps the most difficult for Roman Roy, he wasn’t going to feel depressed once about how his father had forgotten his birthday again. Well, not until he received the stereotypical rushed job of a blank card and sloppy signature of his father typed at the bottom the next day, sent as if he were signing a cheque. He wrote it off as being just another transaction: signing away all the love he owed Roman, justifying it as the price one has to pay for success. Only then would Roman allow himself to excuse off to the bathroom for a moment, before curling up into a ball and crying into his knees as he had done for every birthday he could remember.

He just wanted to spend one day: one single, solitary, sought after, scorned day to spend with the one person in his life he had always loved without hesitation. With the only person who truly saw him. Who loved him for who he was right now, and who, you knew, he should be. So, he decided the rest of his family could go fuck themselves for a meagre twenty four hours, while he made the most of snuggling up to you in bed.

Roman’s always been a naturally restive man at heart, and so it wasn’t long until that little goblin smirk of his came peering past the duvet and over your shoulder. 

‘You know what?’, he murmured, resting his elbow by his head so he could turn and lie facing you properly. ‘Fuck it. We should just, I don’t fucking know, stay here all day until we have become one with the comforter.’ 

‘As lovely as that sounds’, you stretch up and groan, slapping Roman’s hand away as he reaches up to tickle under your armpit. ‘I have plans, I’m afraid.’

‘You- fucking- what? You have plans, are you fucking me right now?’ For a second he jumps up, his eyes squinting as he stares at you crestfallen. But then he sees the smile you’re trying to hide twitch at the corner of your lips, and he falls back down onto the mattress unceremoniously. While he reaches around and tries to thump you in the face with his pillow, you take the opportunity to wrestle his arm and loop it around your own. He gladly gives in, settling down next to you again as you continue: ‘I may have plans, but you’re very welcome to join in with them. If you’re nice to me, that is.’

‘I’m always fucking nice to you’, Roman mutters, but he reaches up to accept the kiss you’re trying to place on the side of his stubble. ‘Good’, you turn back to look at the alarm clock on your bedside table, ‘because we have to be up and out in approximately fifteen minutes.’

‘You are full of fucking surprises, you know that? God, I love you.’

Ever since you and Roman were seven years old, and his father had hit him for the first time after sneaking you up the side of his bedroom window for a sleepover his father had strictly forbidden, as he deemed Roman getting up bright and early for his fencing lessons the next morning to be far more important, you had kept a list in your head of all the mundane things Roman had been punished for as a child. Every birthday since then, you tried to strike one off the list, and this year you had decided to plan ahead, and asked Karolina to hire out a park for you a couple of states away for a water fight. 

It was silly, and stupid, and childish, but when Roman sauntered into the kitchen after his shower and saw you trying to shove pretty hefty super soakers into your backpack, his face lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning. Hence the two of you flying off in your own private helicopter, trying to place a little wriggle room between Roman and the rest of the Roys; you felt almost ridiculous for a moment, whizzing past buildings and waving treelines with only a couple of water guns on you, but Roman was gripping onto your fingers so tightly the whole journey that the embarrassment flooded away. The whole time, his foot was tapping against the edge of yours like a wasp’s sting, his bottom lip nearly bloody from how hard he was chewing it. Whether it was from anticipation, or whether he had the foresight to anticipate the abuse he was going to garner from his father for the wasted journey and tabloid pictures you didn’t know. You held his hand back just as tightly, praying for him to have just one happy day.

Thankfully, once you arrived, Roman literally leapt out of the helicopter like some kind of Doberman. He shrugged off his coat and threw it back into the cabin, before rustling in the bag to grab his loot. Before you could even question what he was doing, a chilled gust of water came splatting you straight up the face, and hurtling you backwards. Let’s just say, Roman’s high pitched hyena laugh was heard all around the fringes of the daisy-strewn field, as he went skidding across the blades like a wanted criminal.

Sometimes, you would hold your hands up as if in defeat, and he would come strutting over to you with his gun in the air and one hand on his waist. Stating that you had run out of water, you wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face as he came and tried to pull your hands behind your back. He walked you both backwards until you were pinned against the tree, and although he’s doing his best to look all sexy, and mysterious, and sheriff like as he tries to unlatch your fingers slowly from the triggers, it was a huge mistake. Using the distraction, you pull his own gun from him and pull his shirt forward, spraying water straight down his bare chest.

‘Oh, you fucker!’

If anyone could see the two of you: sprinting about like children in the mud, not caring as bits of wet dirt skidded up and stained your suit shirts. Parading through the flowers, laughter pealing like bells wherever you went. They would think you were free, and perhaps, for a moment, you both were.

At one point Roman comes swinging down from an oak tree and scares the living absolute fuck out of you. For a second he looks afraid: that remnant of his father’s ‘love’ making him feel sick to his stomach, but that is quickly alleviated when you come over and trace down the slight stubble of his neck. Your pointer finger comes to trace up his chin, and then over the top of his lip, before you lean up and gently melt your lips against his awaiting ones.

The two of you decide (once you’ve managed to unlatch spider monkey from you) to swing your legs up over the tree branch and sit up there for a while, like you used to do when you were teenagers sickly sweet in a hidden, reciprocated love. Back in the days when Roman would carry himself, wounded and crying, to trudge around his father’s estate and find wherever your newest hidie-hole from the world was. It didn’t matter if it was underneath one of the neighbouring orchard trees, or out sitting on a lounge chair on his bedroom balcony, or tucked up inside one of the pool sheds, hidden between unused surfboards and half-chewed pool noodles, Roman had a sixth sense when it came to finding you. You, too, always knew he was coming: mainly from the sound of impeding sniffles, and you had your arm out and ready for him to come curl up into. Against his side, he would crest himself like the fallen son, trying to make himself as small a target as possible against your chest. 

Sometimes you would tuck a book out from your bag and read to him. Other times, the two of you would just chatter like soft sunlight amidst the dark blots of his father’s pristine possessions. Most of all, Roman would usually fall into an uneasy sleep against your neck, and would only rise again once the irritated call of his newest nanny rang out from the veranda.

It had taken him a while to realise he could feel safe in your arms, rather than just hide away, but when he did, he would rest his head on your shoulder and wish he could stay alone with you forever.

So he was more than delighted to re-enact his favourite parts of his childhood with you, even if he can’t fully settle his whole heart into it. You try your best to seem as nonchalant as ever: leaning your head back until it scratches on the bark, swinging one leg over until it catches the sharp gleam of the cresting mid-afternoon sun. Roman’s hunched over, sitting in between your legs, and although he’s being set alight with some kind of giddiness that he can freely be with you now without having to hide, his body’s response is still set to flight or fight. His fingers dance over your legs like a skimming dragonfly, running over the inseams before landing on your ankles and squeezing. 

Becoming over alert of how his eyes keep darting away from you, as if he’s still awaiting the strike he knows is punishment for daring to show love towards anyone, you reach out for him. After an awkward moment of manoeuvring, the two of you manage to reach an agreement on how to sit: you still leaning back, and Roman now lying against your chest, with his legs straight out against the skittish twigs. He looks ethereal against the soft rolls of honey that seemed to drape around the two of you, the crimson burnt fringes of the leaves protecting him from the outside world. And yet Roman still jumps when he feels your fingers brush against the edge of his face, as if you had been trying to burn him. 

It’s taken time. It takes time. It will take time. But to you, using all the understanding and patience in the world would be worth it, if it allowed Roman Roy to live. So you just hold him around the waist, and wait for him to become comfortable. You whisper quotes from your favourite books into his ears, and the sky slowly begins to roll over with lavender and a deep blushing maroon, you tell him about the new memes online from Connor’s campaign. He snorts at that, almost twitching awake in your grasp, but you appreciate the way he tries by leaning backwards and languidly blinking, pressing a brushing kiss against your bottom lip.

Before the two of you return home, he decides he wants to see how ‘the peasants live’ by eating in a normal restaurant. Although he shudders at your implication that he’s turning into Cousin Greg, it ends up being one of the happiest dining experiences of his life. Roman had always had a difficult relationship with food: between his mother’s teasing about his looks at the dining table when he was a toddler, to his father smacking him for bad table manners, to every adult dinner party revolving around sub-plots and back-stabbing, he’d found it all difficult to swallow. Being with you, thankfully, made the experience a little easier.

He even found himself laughing when the sushi you had tried to feed him with your chopsticks came flopping down onto the table in a mushed heap of rice and wasabi, and the joy didn’t leave his face as you came up to cradle his face and wipe bits of salmon away from the lines of his lips. The whole time, he was incredibly aware of how carelessly he allowed his knee to rest against your own; he was conscious of how other customers might notice the way he held your hand over the bar stools between courses, but for the first time in his life, he allowed himself the freedom not to care.

One of the waitresses makes a comment about how sweet the two of you look together on the way out, and oh my god does Roman ride that high the whole way back to the park. Cue him being a full peachy, blubbering, hyper mess, with giggles only a dog could hear slipping out of his mouth every ten metres down the pavements.

You give him his present when you get home: you’d collated over the last couple of months some of your favourite pictures, both of you and Roman over the years, as well as full family shots. You had asked Connor, Kendall and Shiv to add some of their favourite memories in the margins of the shots, until the black and white photobook was bursting with neatly looped letters and little drawings of dicks (kindly added by Ken.)

Roman chokes when he sees it. He fists his hand into his mouth, shrugging as his eyes widen, brimming with tears as he flips through the pages. He starts getting over hyper, repeating over and over and over again that ‘yeah, yeah- it’s nice, I like it’, because he thinks it’s some kind of trick. Because he can’t handle the thought of his siblings loving him without some sort of condition. Because just one kind word it’s what he’s been seeking from them his whole life, and your eyes widen in horror as you realise why he’s taking a step backwards. Why his bottom lip is jutting out. Why he looks like a noose is tightening around his neck. You glance down, and you can see it in all the pictures: in every frame, his siblings are looking dead-on, deadpan into the camera, and he’s glancing up at them. In the pictures with you, he’s clearly choking down the love that’s bursting out of his every being as he gazes at you in every. single. one. 

It guts you to realise it’s taking you so long to reciprocate just a little of that love that’s been suffocating him his whole life.

He regresses into Logan Roy mode, and it breaks your heart all the more; he wanders over to the cabinet to pour a tumbler of whiskey for the two of you, before settling himself down on the edge of the settee. He pulls out his phone, getting prepared to come back to himself: to scroll through the news channel and chat with you about the events he’d missed while taking a few hours off for himself.

Yet he doesn’t complain when you tenderly take his hand, choosing instead not to let him wallow. You lead him over to one of the armchairs over looking the cityscape, pushing on his chest until he collapses down into it. With a content sigh, he watches you go choose a book from the collection you had curated by the television, before coming back to squeeze yourself in beside him. He’s half sitting on your lap, but neither of you really give a stuff as he winds his arms around your neck and settles against your heartbeat. With his head on your collar bone, and your finger mindlessly drawing patterns in the tufts of hair behind his ear, you begin to read aloud to him. From time to time you peer behind the spine and catch his eye, and it makes you fumble over your words a little when you spot him. He’s gazing up at you as if you were perfection incarnate, and for the first time in his sorrowful life, Roman Roy begins his next year on this planet with one hopeful thought smacking around the inside of his head: perhaps this year, he won’t have to suffer just for being Roman.

[hughiecampbelle]

Persecution (Roy!Sibling x Roman Roy)

Character/s: Roman, Jeryd, Kendall, Shiv

Word Count: 1,465

Requested: Hihihi!!! Would it be okay to request? Or maybe just as inspiration or something: i'd love to see the dynamic between roy!siblingreader and roman and how he would interact with them trying/being the big brother to them like connor and kendall are especially takeing care of them or being protective? I have severe roman brainrot rn lol and i love how you write each of them and overall the way you use words and how alive it all feels! ♡- anon

Inspired By: Family Jewels by Marina

Warning/s: sexual harassment, harassment, men being creeps

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: You know I had to do it!!! You know I had to!!! I can't actually remember all of the election party episode, so this might be a bit off. My apologies!!! Stop my love, Roman makes my brain rot too he lives in there 24/7!!! Thank you for such kind words!!! I try my best :) I hope you like it!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

His hand lingers on the small of your back, on your shoulder, on your body. It burns all the way through. You don’t shake it off though. You can’t. So you smile and excuse yourself, trying to stop yourself from shuddering. It seems wherever you go, wherever you disappear, he is there. He is always there. If not in your presence, then calling, texting, emailing. He is obsessive, hungry, and you have been served to him on a silver platter whether they realize it or not. You sit alone on the couch, nursing your drink, your fourth or fifth of the night just to get through it. His knee touches you, his arm is around you. No one takes notice, not your brothers or sister. No one can save you. He speaks, but only to get closer, so close you can smell the scotch on his breath. He talks mindlessly of his campaign, of the work he and your brother have put into it. That is why you can’t resist. That is why you can’t push him away, throw your drink in his face, call him names that sit on the tip of your tongue. Because your brother has spent too much time building this relationship up, building this man up. You’ve told him time and time again that you don’t like him, that you side with your sister on this, but he doesn’t care. He is not your President yet, though God help you if he becomes him. You won’t be able to escape him. You won’t be able to run. 

His hand is on your thigh, inching down. As if his touch is fire you jump up, dropping your glass, spilling all over him, all over Shiv's carpet. Fuck, you think, fuck, fuck fuck. You apologize profusely despite yourself, picking up the shards. They glitter under the light. The mumble of the crowd never stops, there isn’t a single pause in conversation. You are the baby, the least significant one. These politicians, their groups, they don’t see you. They don’t notice you. No one is coming to help you. He doesn’t seem to notice your distress, instead leaning down, face to face with you, watching you avoid his eyes. He rubs your shoulder, explaining that it was an accident, no big deal. With his finger he tips your head up, smile for me, sweetie. You recoil, apologizing, taking what pieces you have, headed towards the kitchen. You’re unsteady on your feet, too tipsy. You drank too much. You curse yourself, trying not to let the tears that welled up in your eyes fall. You weren’t even supposed to be here. You were supposed to be home, safe, far away from him where he could not possibly reach you. But they wanted you here, they needed you here, the biggest night leading up to the election. You could never disappoint them. Never. So you showed up and you drank and now you’re in this mess. You can feel him behind you, like a shadow, close but not close enough. You catch one look behind you, biting back a scream. He shakes hands, introduces himself, cracks jokes, all while moving through the crowd. You are his target, you always have been. 

From the moment he laid eyes on you, you knew it was over. Too late. You were drowning and they were doing nothing to save you. He spoke to you like you were old friends, touchy from your moment of introduction. Y/n Roy, a pleasure to meet you. A kiss on the cheek. His arm snaking around your waist for the family photo. Pleading with your eyes, but no one to see, no one to understand. Your father was more than happy to serve you to him, proud you’d made a connection so quickly. Oblivious to your disgust, to your discomfort, as always. Still, he hadn’t been that proud of you in a long time, perhaps ever. You thought you could keep up the niceties until he lost, then you would rid yourself of him for good. And then your father died. And then Roman made his deal with him. And now? Now you’re leaning over the sink, trying not to throw up, your hands shaking at the thought of him being near you like that again. He got caught in conversation with a lesser political opponent, his eyes never leaving you. Someone had given him your contact information. First an email here and there. A thank you for being so kind to him. A proposition for coffee, then drink. Texts next. Jokes that fell flat. Apologies for your father. More dates, more events, all of them, he’s hoping, you’ll be there. Calls, too. Pictures. So many pictures. Silly ones, then not so funny. If he wasn’t constantly watching, talking, touching, then he was trying to. You never responded, but that didn’t stop him. It would never stop him. 

What were you going to do? 

You clutch the edge of the sink, taking a few deep breaths. As quickly as you can without making yourself even more nauseous, you cut through the pack, headed towards the bathroom. Without meaning to, your barge through your siblings semi-circle conversation. The tears are falling. All of them look up at you, startled, but you slam the door shut before they can ask anything. Shiv knocks softly, saying your name, trying to get you out. Y/n? Y/n what happened? Can you come out and talk to us? Knees to chest you slide down to the floor, drunk, tired, your skin still crawling. Trying to catch your breath. Y/n, come on, come out. Whatever happened, we can fix it. Kendall sounded exhausted. Rightfully so. You stifle a sob, the words coming out before you can stop them. I didn’t mean- I didn’t- I know this is important to you guys. Mencken. He’s important to them, he’s important to your brother, he was to your father. You couldn’t just suck it up for a little while, you had to cry like a child. Who? What are you talking about? It’s Roman now, his voice close to you. He’s not standing like the others, he’s on your level now. You don’t know how to explain it, you can’t. You fear it’ll sound ridiculous. That you’re making a bigger deal about this than necessary. You’re not sure what else to do. You open every tab, every phone call and text thread and email. Then you open the door just a crack, sliding the phone through, shutting it again. There's a moment of silence that feels like eternity. How long has been this going on? Roman sounds angry. At you? A while. It’s all you can manage, curling into a ball, bracing for the worst. For the yelling, the disappointment, for one of them to bang on the door and demand that you come out right now. You wait, and you wait, but it never comes. It never happens. Instead your brother and sister call after Roman, trying to stop him, but he’s seeing red. 

There’s no stopping him. 

It’s quiet for a long time, but you don’t move a muscle. Your nausea has gotten a little better, your head a little clearer. You call for your siblings, but none answer. What were they doing? What were they saying? You can hear muffled yelling through the door, but the words melt together. Tones rise in pitch. The apartment has quieted. Someone laughs, you think it’s Mencken. More quiet. A door slams. You wince. This is all your fault. Whatever they were doing, whatever was going on, it was your fault. It was all your fault. Then a voice, softer now. He’s gone, kid. You can come out. Roman. He didn’t sound angry, but when did that ever stop anyone? Certainly not your father. When you don’t, you hear him groan, getting to the floor. Through the door, you can hear the weight in his voice. I’m not mad at you, I, I could never be mad at you. A pause. You honestly think I would have chosen him over you? You nod before choking up a yes. It’s my fault, you start, but he doesn’t let you finish. It’s not, it never was. He’s a fucking creep y/n, a monster. I’m, I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner. He's gone now. He won’t come near you ever again. He’s never been so sure of anything in his life. He would never let fucking Mencken do that to you again. He wouldn’t let anyone do that. He shouldn’t have let it happen in the first place, he’d carry this for the rest of his life. He let you down, your big brother. He let you down for the last time.

[raya-hunter01]

Will You Be My Lady? Pt. 2

One Shot! Finale

Jey Uso x Black Female OC! (Candice)

Roman x Black Female OC!

Jimmy x Trin

Rating: 18+

Warning: oral, fluff,Sex

Summary: Candice suffers from a painful past with the Tribal Chief Roman reigns. In the aftermath, Main Event Jey Uso is begging for a chance to show her all love and affection. Will Candice go back to her ex or will she allow Jey to show her love?

She’s mine

The loving atmosphere in the club had me on edge and watching Candice singing her heart to of all people my cousin had me pissed off.

“Joe, I’m ready to go,” Sasha said as I groaned watching Jey walk backstage.

“Go, pay the bill, I gotta use the bathroom,” I said giving her my credit card. Getting up I followed the path Jey had gone but discreetly.

I slowly pulled the curtain back and felt my blood boil as I watched him and Candice.

“I can’t believe this shit,” I muttered totally caught off guard with the scene in front of me.

“You know I get what you sayin’ and all, it’s just gon’ be hard not to kiss you when I want to,” Jey said as Candice laughed against him.  She blushed, she used to be this way with me, and now she’s lovin’ up on my fucking cousin.

“Who said you couldn’t?” she said pulling away from him as Jey moaned at her words.  I’ll fuckin’ kill him…..

What the fuck is happening, I mean I know I fucked up, but we always found a way to work shit out.

“So, what you sayin’ beautiful?” Jey asked, leaning her up against the wall towering over her. I saw Candice looking at Jey like she was ready to fuck him right there as she pulled him closer standing on her tiptoes.

I held my breath waiting to hear her response.

“It means It depends on your answer to my question. Can I love you in slow motion Joshua?” she whispered against his lips as Jey took her in a passionate kiss.

I couldn’t take it anymore just as I was about to interrupt the love fest I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Joe what are you doing?” Trin asked as I turned towards her having seen enough.

“Uh, nothing Sasha and I are about to head back to the room. I thought this was the bathroom but I was wrong,” I said trying to keep my face unbothered as she moved me to the side and peaked behind the curtain seeing Candice and Jey still in their own world kissing.

“Joe, let her be, she deserves to be happy. You’re with Sasha and god knows who else, why can’t she have someone,” Trin whispered as I growled….

“Not with him, Trin!” I hissed as she jumped slightly at the harsh tone of my voice. “Not with my fuckin’ cousin, I can’t let that shit slide,” I said angry more at myself than Jey if I was really honest with myself.

“Joe, she has a right to move on with her life. It’s been a year,” Trin said as I turned and began walking away from her. “She’s mine and I ain’t gon’ stand for the disrespect,” I said trying to get away as fast as I could from her nosey ass following me.

“Joe!…. Don’t do anything crazy!” Trin shouted as I waved her off storming past Jimmy completely ignoring him.

“Who the fuck, does he think he is?” I muttered seeing Sasha by the door. “Hey, what’s wrong baby,” she said trying to touch my arm as I snatched it away.

“Not now, let me take you back to the room. I ain’t in the mood tonight alright.” I said walking past her and putting on my coat.

“Well, what crawled up your ass,” she said as I turned giving her a murderous glare. “Look, you can either get in the car or you can stay here and find your own way back,” I said as she rolled her eyes.

“I know that girl Tiffany that you cheated on Candice with does everything you ask because she’s desperate, but I ain’t the one, Joe. She said as I sneered at her invading her space.

“Fine, stay yo’ ass here, and don’t call me again,” I hissed walking away from her.

“You gon' end up alone Joe because this Tribal Chief shit has gone to your head and has brought out the worst in you. What happened to you?!” She screamed as I continued walking away, ignoring her.

I didn’t need any damn lip from her, I’ll call Tiffany and get her ass back in rotation after I get Candice back where she belongs.

----

Trin’s POV

“Where the hell big Uce come from?” Jimmy said as I sat down beside him. “He was spying on Candice and Jey. Jurdy, he just saw them kissing,” I said totally worried now.

“Ah shit, well that ain’t good, warn Candice. I’ll try to get Uce alone,” Jimmy whispered as he pointed at Candice and Jey who were on their way back to the table.

“Hey bestie,” Candice said sitting beside me as Jey kissed her cheek. “I’ll get you a ginger ale,” he said as Jimmy looked at me. “Uh, I’ll go wit you Uce,” Jimmy said following Jey.

“What’s wrong with you? Candice said looking at me as I sighed. “Girl, Joe knows about you and Jey,” I blurted out all at once as she looked and shook her head. “Trin, I ain’t worried about Joe and what he knows. I’m with Jey and there’s nothing he can do about it,” Candice said as I hoped she was right and Joe would cool off and let her be.

Jimmy’s POV

What you gon do Uce i asked as Jey rolled his eyes at me.

"Well I’m glad he saw us, he shouldn’t have been nosey. I ain't hiding how I feel about Candice anymore," I said not caring that he knew.

I wasn’t going to hide Candice, she deserved the world and I was going to give it to her. "I want ya’ll both happy Uce. Just be careful, Jimmy said as we waited on the drinks.

"I'm always careful twin, I got this I," reassured him. Nothing Joe had going on was gonna spoil my night. I had my girl, my career, man everything was perfect right now and I was gon' enjoy it no matter who had a problem with it.

----------

Hilton Hotel

 Atlanta, Ga

Joe’s POV

“Hey, um I was wondering if you could help me?” I asked the desk clerk who seemed to be a fan as to how she was smiling all dreamy at me. Yes, this will be a piece of cake.

 “Sure how may I help you? she asked as I smiled at her turning on the charm. “Yes, I’m in room 541 and I somehow deactivated my key. I’ve been trying to call my wife to let me in but she seems to have fallen asleep” I said as she began typing.

“The room is in my wife’s name it’s Candice Jones,” I said giving her my ID. After a few minutes, my attempt at getting a key to her room was a bust.

 “Well unfortunately there Is nothing I can do for you Mr. Anoa’i. Especially since I see you also have a room in your name on the seventh floor. Also, your name isn’t listed as a guest in room 541 either,” the clerk said as I tried to remain friendly.

“Oh, yea my wife and I always book an extra room, almost like a decoy for fans sometimes. It’s hard for us to have privacy sometimes,” I said rolling the lie off my tongue hoping she would buy it.

“I’m so sorry you guys have to do that. It’s really sad but in order for me to give you a key to that room I would need your wife to come down and give permission for you to get a key. We also can do a wellness check with security if you would like,” she said as I frowned. No, I want the fucking key.

“Uh, that’s ok I’ll keep calling her. I’m sure she will open the door soon,” I said stalking towards the elevator. Damn it! I needed to see Candice, she can’t do this to me…Not with him…No.

-----

Hilton Hotel

Jey’s room

Candice’s POV

“Shit, let me open the door baby.” Jey moaned as I kissed and nibbled on my neck. “You been teasing me all night lookin’ sexy as fuck with all this red outfit on. I can’t control myself,” I groaned, gently biting his neck before swirling my tongue over the sensitive area as he growled.

“Fuck, well who am I to stop you? Damn, that feels so good, lose control baby,” he panted as I smirked against his throat.

“Mmm, you betta hurry up cause anybody walking by bout to see to me on my knees swallowing all dis' dick,” I moaned unsnapping his pants and sticking my hand inside caressing his dick.

 “Fuck, you wildn’, I love dat' shit,” Jey groaned as he finally got the door opened, ushering me inside.

“I want to taste you,” I whispered against his mouth taking him in a short deep kiss as Jey moaned, cradling my head as we explored each other’s mouths only pulling apart to catch our breaths.

“Are you sure? I know you wanted to wait, baby,” he said searching my eyes for apprehension as I smiled at him. “Take off your shirt,” I whispered pushing his pants and underwear down as he made quick work of his shirt throwing it across the room.

I felt my breath catch in my throat as I saw him in all his glory.  Growling Jey grasping my throat, attacking my mouth with his as I whimpered against him with need.

I wanted him so bad this whole waiting thing may have to wait. I needed him, especially with how put it down tonight earlier in that dressing room. I’ve been horny as fuck ever since.

I untied my wrap dress, pushing it off my shoulders, standing before him clad in my lacy bra and underwear set. Slowly I took them off giving Jey a show as he pulled me close to his chest.

His hands caressed my body as he looked at me with want and need.  “You so fuckin’ sexy, he moaned as I kissed him, caressing my tongue against his slowly as he growled with urgency as our tongues danced together as I pulled him closer.

“Shiiiit! I promised I wouldn’t rush you baby, but you makin’ it real fuckin’ hard Candice,” Jey panted as I smirked against his lips. Slowly pushing him against the wall, as I then kneeled before him.

“Mmhm, I see… It’s real hard Jey, I said seductively biting my lip as Jey looked at me in anticipation licking his lips.

Jey’s POV

“Shit, what you gon’ do about it, baby?” I moaned as she looked up at me innocently. Fuck that’s the most sexist shit I have ever seen.

“I’m gon’ give you what you been dreamin’ bout baby,” she moaned teasingly taking me in her mouth, gently grazing her teeth down my dick.

“Fuck, make my dreams come true and stop playin’ wit it. Suck dat' dick shit," I groaned as she took all my dick into her mouth slightly gagging. I then felt her throat relax around my dick.

“Ah fuck, you swallowed it all didn’t you baby,” hissed in shock looking down at her. “Mmhum,” she moaned as my hands went to the back of her head, her mouth vibrating on my dick making my whole body shiver as she worked me over. Damn, she knew what to do wit that sexy ass mouth.

“Got damn, that mouth, Ma,” I panted as her eyes meet mine as she continued to take me deeper and deeper.

“Yessss! Take it all in yo’ mouth baby fuck!,” I praised as she seemed to be on a mission now, sucking my dick greedily bobbing her head faster as I tried to not lose control and yank her ass up off the floor and fuck her against this wall.

 I could only see the top of her head as she was indeed giving me the best head I ever had steadily bobbing as I gasped trying to last as long as possible, but fuck her mouth felt so good.

“Look at me baby, I need to see you,” I gasped as she looked up at me. I almost came on the spot as her seductive bed eyes held me captive as she continued to please me.

I growled in gratitude seeing her this way, that slight arch in her back, her ample ass lookin’ like it was made perfectly for my hands.

Damn, dreams do come true if you wait patiently.

Candice’s POV

I have never wanted a man more than I wanted Jey right now. His eyes and moans tellin' the story of how good I’m making him feel. I can tell he was close.

I wanted him to know that I give as good as I get. He belongs to me now.

“I’m close, wait baby a second,” he moaned as ignored his pleas and began sucking him faster. “Damn, you tryin’ to make me cum ain't you? Shit, make me cum then, you can get all dis' nut baby, I faintly heard him whisper encouraging me as I continued to give him what I knew he needed.

Jey’s POV

“Here it come Candice,” I rasp cummin’ hard in her mouth, groaning as her mouth continued to milk me dry as I rubbed and caressed her back. “Fuck, I needed that," I moaned in satisfaction trying to catch my breath as my body relaxed.

“Are you ok baby?” Candice asked looking at me with a sly smirk, slowly standing up, swirling her tongue around her lips.  Groaning I closed my eyes. “I’m good…Yo', ass is deadly though,” I sighed as she laughed.

 “What are you talkin’ about, I just wanted to taste you and by the way you tasted yummy,” she purred innocently giving me a chaste kiss on the lips as I growled. “You playin’ a dangerous game,” I whispered deepening our kiss.

 “Mmm, I like playin’ dangerous when it’s with you,” she whispered as I smirked against her lips scooping her up and carrying her to bed. Yea, I could definitely get used to this.

Candice’s POV

I wanted him so bad but I said I wanted to wait but what was I waiting for exactly, we’ve known each other for years.

If it ended tomorrow, I would have no regrets and that was the honest truth. I felt safe with him and I knew he would protect me with everything within him and I really wanted him in this moment.

“Hey, where did you go beautiful?” Jey asked caressing my face as I blushed. “Just thinking is all,” I said looking at him smiling

"Aye, we ain’t gotta do nothin’ you don’t want to," he said reassuring me as I took his hand and placed it between my thighs as he groaned caressing my wet center.

"Does this feel like I'm not ready for you?" I moaned as he licked his lips, moaning at the words and the feel of my wet warmth soaking his hand.

“Damn you soakin' wet Candice, shit! Did I make you this wet baby?" Jey groaned in satisfaction never stopping his movements, rubbing my clit torturously slow.

 “Mmm, yes, you do this to me, It’s like I’m on fire,” I moaned not caring if it made me seem weak as we shared a breathless kiss as he overpowered all my senses. 

“Look at me Candice,” he commanded as I fought to open my eyes, the pleasure was too great and became more intense as our eyes met.

“I’m..I'm offering you me Candice, and you know what that is. I ain’t no Tribal chief, I’m just a man that loves you. A man who will spend forever showin’ you how special you are if you let me," he whispered as our foreheads touched.

I couldn't help but moan at his words and his skillful hands that were taking me to even newer heights of pleasure with each passing second.

I whimpered as he began thrusting one, then two fingers inside me as his thumb expertly circled my clit sending powerful tingles down my spine "Jey! Mmm, Oh my god!" I gasped as he silenced me with a kiss as I melted into him.

"Tell me what you want Candice?" Jey groaned as my heart leaped into my throat. Just say it Candice and take a chance.  

“What do you want baby?" Jey asked speeding up his movements as I pulled him closer.

"I want you," I whimpered against his lips as he closed his eyes groaning in satisfaction.

"I want everything that comes with it..... I want it all Josh," I moaned as I exploded in his arms.

"Baby, it’s right here, it’s always been Candice…All you gotta do is take it, baby," he whispered taking me in a passionate kiss, climbing between my legs as my orgasm continued to wash over me.

Jey’s POV

"I want you to make me yours," Candice moaned as I groaned, wrapping her legs around my waist. "Fuck, I’ve dreamed about this," I panted slowly entering her as we both gasped in shock and pleasure at the intense feeling of becoming one.

I stilled inside her as her tightness overwhelmed me as Candice grabbed my chain pulling me to her, claiming my lips in another kiss as I slowly began moving inside her.

"Fuck, you were made for me," I praised taking my time thrusting slow and steady inside her as I felt her tighten around my dick as Candice purred, her head thrown back in pleasure as I made her mine.

"Jey! Please, I need it she begged," as I growled taking her harder as she whimpered my name over and over.  "Who’s pussy is this Candice?" I moaned unwrapping her legs from around me, opening them wide as I went deeper inside her.

"Josh! Oh!  Baby! You know,"” Candice whined as I went even deeper. "Tell me, Candice," I demanded as she writhed in need below me.

"Yours! It’s yours Josh!" she screamed as I took us both over the edge. "Fuck yea it’s mine, and don't you forget dat' shit either," I groaned as she showered my dick with her essence.

"I love you so much," she moaned as I felt my heart swell, she loved me back.  

"I love you too baby," I whispered kissing her gently. All my waiting hadn’t been in vain. That alone made my dick hard as a rock again as I began thrusting inside her again as she gasped in surprise.

"Are you serious? Already?" She moaned against my mouth as I smirked. "Oh, Yea… you got me addicted to you Candice," I moaned as she clawed at my back.

I could faintly hear someone knocking on the wall. I guess we were too loud, but I’m sorry they are in for a long night just like Candice is.

----

Next door

Joe's Room

Joe’s POV

I guess I’ll try to talk to Candice later, that shit at the front desk was a bust. How could I get through to her and make her leave Jey.  

My thoughts were interrupted as I heard knocking on the wall and a woman moaning in pleasure.

Are you serious right now, I’m trying to damn sleep. I hit the wall giving my own message back to shut the fuck up but the headboard hitting against the wall didn't stop, hell it started banging harder on the wall.

"Damn, least somebody gettin' dick down good, I guess," I muttered as I heard the woman’s moan again....

"Wait…I know it isn’t," I muttered as I got out of bed and placed my ear to the wall waiting to hear the voice again.

I knew that moan anywhere…."Candice," I muttered as I could hear her clear as day.

"Jey! Oh, fuck you so deep!” Candice screamed as I jumped back from the wall in horror. "Yea, I'ma go deeper up in this pussy, fuck! Jey moaned.

"You got to fuckin' kidding me!" I hissed, putting my shirt, sweats, and shoes back on. I grabbed my keys, and phone before storming out of the room.

I couldn't stay there knowing what was goin' on next door to me.

I can't believe she let him have her....She was really having sex with Jey. The elevator ride to the next floor was torturously slow but I knew I needed a distraction to block out what I had just heard and Sasha definitely would do for now.

"Sasha open the door!" I shouted banging on her door. "Come on open up, I need some relief," I muttered to myself as she groggily opened the door.

"What do you want Joe?" she asked wiping the sleep from her eyes. "I want you," I said grabbing her in a rough kiss, leading her back into her room slamming the door behind me.

---

Jey’s Room

Candice’s POV

“Yeaa, bend dat ass over and lock them legs behind mine,” Jey ordered as he continued to fuck me with long, hard deep thrusts as I angled my body on the bed arching my back.

 “Oh! Yes, you deep in it! Oh my god!” I moaned as I heard Jey chuckle but quickly gasped as my pussy painful tightened around his dick. “Got damn, ma,” he panted keeping up his thrusts. 

“Yea, this pussy feels good don’t it," I taunted as Jey growled. "Shit yea, it do," he moaned. “Then don’t play wit it Jey, fuck me! We can go slow later, I promise,” I groaned throwing my ass back on his dick as he growled smacking me hard on the ass as I whimpered feeling the constant tingles exploding all over my body.

"I been waiting on you for years girl, I’ma enjoy this. Dat ass looks so fuckin good bouncin’ on my dick. You like how I’m dickin’ you down don’t you baby,” he moaned as I gasped trying to find the words.

 “Yes! I love it!” I exclaimed, with no shame. Shit, my man knew how to use his magic stick and that monster was all I imagined it to be and then some.

“Uh-huh, I can tell baby…You backed up that shit you was talkin’ out in the hall,” he groans. “You swallowed this dick and now you takin’ it all like the good girl you are.” he praised, grunting as we chased our next orgasm together.

“I’m your good girl, only your good girl,” I panted as I felt him slowing down as he growled. "Yea, you my good girl and only mine," his deep sexy voice confessed as I clawed at the sheets. What was he doing to me?

Jey’s POV

“Yea, dats it right there,” I groaned gripping Candice’s hip, pulling almost all the way out before snapping my hips hard bringing her down even harder on my dick. “Jey! Fuck!” she screamed. “Uh huh feels good don’t it baby?” I moaned watching my dick disappear inside her pussy as it pulsated around me.

“Yes, Jey, shit you..I…I,” she screamed grabbing the headboard for leverage as she continued to throw that beautiful ass back on my dick unable to finish her sentence.

“I know it, baby, I'ma take care of you, I promise,” I groaned feeling myself not very far behind her. “Jey….Jey… Oh, baby… Jey,” she moaned almost chanting, clawing at the headboard as my resolve snapped and I began taking her fast and deep again.

Candice’s POV

Oh, my God, my legs are jelly and he feels so good. I was so close when suddenly I found myself on my back with Jey towering over me.

 “I need something from you,” he moaned entering me again as I gasped wrapping my thighs around him, pulling his closer.

“What baby?" I asked gasping as he gently kissed me, "Tell me your mine," he I commanded as I smiled against his lips.

"I’m yours," I moaned as I felt myself about to come undone in his arms again. "I’m yours too shit, promise you never leavin' me,” he groaned as he continued to stake his claim.

"I won’t, I promise,” I moaned as our eyes never left each other. Everything seemed to become more intense by the second as I met his thrusts with anticipation

“Oh my god!” I gasped as he swallowed my screams with his mouth as I came hard.

“Good girl, you did so good baby, Jey praised me as bit my lip in anticipation of his release and still feeling euphoric from my own.

“Are you gonna cum for me?”  I gasped as I felt him getting harder by the second as he took me with wild abandon.

“Hell yea, I’m bout to give it all to you,” Jey moaned as I licked my lips “Mmm, I want you to cum in my mouth this time baby,” I begged as Jey growled at my words, biting his lip. “You do baby?” he gasped in shock as I nodded.

“I want every last drop,” I panted as he, quickly pulled out, leaning over, shoving his pulsating dick in my welcoming mouth.

“Ah fuck!" He shouted cummin’ hard as I moaned at the feel of his warm essence coating my mouth. Sweat fell from his brow as he tried to catch his breath. As his body relaxed, he pulled out of my mouth. “Ooouu shit, That was hot as fuck he praise as I smiled tiredly at him.

"Come on and let daddy see did you get it all baby," he whispered as I opened my mouth, releasing my tongue so he could see his essence on it.

As he watched me closely with hunger in his eyes, I closed my mouth and swallowed it as he grabbed my throat taking me in a possessive kiss.

“You gon’ end up barefoot and pregnant, you keep doin’ that shit, he growled against my lips as I laughed shaking my head at his words because knowing him it was true.

"Any regrets?" I asked as he pulled me close. "Hell nawl girl, you stuck wit my ass now," he said as I smiled at him. "You stuck with me too," I whispered settling into his arms as we finally found rest.

------

Smackdown

Candice’s POV

“Thank you so much so helping us out tonight with the photoshoots. This damn flu is getting everybody. But if I could I had one more favor to ask you,” Paul said releasing me from his embrace. 

“You know you good boss, and that I don’t mind helping. Jey was already scheduled for the show, so I was going to be here anyway,” I said as he smiled at me.

 “Yea, I heard about the new development, and good for ya’ll.  You both deserve some happiness,” he said as I blushed.

“So uh, what else did you need me to do?” I asked trying to change the subject.

“Oh! yeah, could you sing the National Anthem tonight? Samantha is sick so Braxton is going to announce for us tonight, but he sings like a dying cat,” he said as I laughed.

“Sure, no problem, I would love to,” I said as he sighed in relief.

“Thank you so much, now I gotta make sure these cameras are ready to go for the show,” he said looking at his paper quickly before rushing off, waving at Jey who was walking up.

“Hey, you! What they got you doin’ tonight?” I asked as Jey frowned. I’ma open the show and introduce Cody. Joe gon’ come out talking about why are we on his show, and exchange a few words, he said as I could see the internal battle he was having.

“Are you ok with that baby? I asked as he sighed, taking me in his arms. “I’m ok baby, and I don’t want you to worry yo' pretty lil head bout me. Joe and I both know how to keep business and personal separate,” Jey said gently caressing my chin.

"I sure hope so," I said as he gave me a chaste kiss on the forehead as I relaxed in his arms. Hopefully, Joe could remain professional, and the program would go smoothly. 

---

Smackdown

Jey’s POV

Ladies and Gentlemen, please rise for our National anthem Byron Saxton said as the house lights shined brightly on Candice as she began to sing.  

Standing there in Gorilla I couldn’t help but beam wit pride watching her in her element. My baby was truly talented, and the crowd was eating it up.

“She got them in the palm of her hand. I always knew she belonged on somebody’s stage; I’ve always told her that,” Joe said walking up to me to get a better view of the TV. “Yea, she really does, I’m proud of her,” I said not looking away from the TV.

 I don’t know the real reason for this small talk all of a sudden but I just hope he keeps this shit professional out there.

“Well let’s go tear it down out there lil Jey,” Joe said as I watched Candice wave to the crowd before she left the ring to go stand beside Saxton.

 Turning to look at Joe I scoffed at his attempt to get me off my game. “A’ight big Uce, I’m down, but if you go out there wit that lil Jey shit we gon’ have a problem,” said as he smiled at me.

“Well, why is that? You call yourself standin’ up to me now? Oh, i get it Candice got you feeling yourself, huh," he asked smirking at me.

 “Nah, Uce, I just ain’t the same scared lil Jey from when we was kids, and if you go out here throwing shots. I’ma get you…You feel me, I don't give a damn if this is a live show. I will rock yo’ shit, you understand,” I said watching the smile drop from Joe’s face.  

"Yea, I got you, Candice is off limits because this is about business," Joe said as I gave him a leary stare before walking away to go further to the curtain to get ready for my entrance.

I didn’t trust his ass as far as I could throw him. "Go kill it Uce, and keep your head in the game," Cody said as I dapped him up. "Thanks, see you out there, Uce," I said smiling as I heard the crowd as Saxton began to introduce me.

Candice’s POV

"Main Event Jey Usooo! Byron screamed as Jey’s music dropped and the crowd went nuts. Damn, there he goes I couldn’t help but feel a tingle down my spine watching my boyfriend. His ass knows what he be doin’ the guys are hyped and the girl’s panties are wet as fuck.

“Damn baby I see you," I muttered watching him bounce his body in excitement coming down the aisle. This was my first time watching his entrance live with the crowd and it was something to behold.

The crowd sang and bounced their arms in the air along with him. I was so proud of him; he really had made it. He came over to the ropes as Saxton gave him the extra microphone.

 I smiled at him as he winked at me before returning to the center of the ring. Damn it now I’m blushing. Get it together girl.

I hope the camera didn’t pick that up. That’s all we need is a post from fans asking who was Jey Uso winking at.

Before he could even start talking and introduce Cody, Joe’s music interrupted him. “What the hell? He was supposed to wait until Jey was about to introduce Cody and not run his ass out her before Jey could even speak,” I whispered to Braxton having a bad feeling as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Maybe they changed it," Saxton said as I turned to look at Jey. He was not amused as Joe made his way to the ring flexing with the title around his waist.

He spotted me as he climbed in the ring and ever so slyly, he licked his lips and smirked at me as Jey’s head snapped in my direction angry as I shook my head at Joe’s antics.

I looked at Jey and gave him a nod, encouraging him to keep his cool. He sighed, turning back to face Joe running his fingers over his face.

Ladies and gentlemen, it’s a tense scene as this is the first time since Jey Uso quit smackdown that he has seen his cousin Roman reigns I heard Cole say.

“You can go behind me through the crowd and go to the back without anyone seeing you if you want,” Saxton whispered as I nodded but couldn’t move from the spot, I was stuck in.

Joe’s POV

“Lil Jey, what you doin’ on my show?” I asked knowing I was getting under Jey’s skin as I saw his jaw twitch. “I mean you quit! Cody got you signed to Raw. So why are you at my show lil Jey? I asked smugly.

 “Aye, I got a tag match tonight with Cody, I ain’t sweatin’ you Uce and It ain’t gon’ be too many more lil Jey’s a’ight,” Jey said rocking back in forth trying to control his temper.

“You always wanted to be me. When we were kids, I beat your ass in everything. Even now you still want to be me don’t you lil Jey? I asked as Jey frowned.

“Man, ain’t nobody tryin’ to be you Uce, I’m my own man,” Jey said frustrated as I laughed.

 “Nah, even to this day you always wondered if you measure up to the Tribal Chief.  You just seem drawn to things that you can’t have..That I won’t let you have,” I gloated laughing caressing my title as I saw the realization wash over Jey’s face.

He knew I was talking about Candice and I wanted him to know.

“Aye! What did I tell you?  Watch yo’ mouth before we have a problem," Jey said angrily pointing at me as I laughed.

 “Maybe I want a problem lil Jey, because it seems you just like takin’ things of mine that don’t belong to you. My precious, beautiful luscious things,” I said gently bouncing my title up and down on my waist my eyes slowly traveled to Candice.

Her eyes pleaded with me to stop as I could tell she was uncomfortable, but all things were fair in love and war.

Jey’s POV

This motherfucka lookin’ at Candice trying to be slick wit his lil words. If hints about her one more time, damn this show and staying in character, I’ma fuck him up. She’s mine now, not his.

Dropping my microphone low so nobody could hear, I leaned over and put my hand behind Joe’s neck, as he wore a frown almost outdone I lowered my microphone.

���I ain’t doin’ this bullshit wit you out here, But I promise you If you say her name out here in front of all these people, I’ma get you Uce..You gon’ have to see me,” I said deathly calm as Joe’s face contorted in anger mouthin’ words I couldn’t understand but I didn’t care.

“Now get back on script so I can go my way and you go yours, wit yo’ miserable ass,” I said wanting to finish the segment and leave.  

Candice’s POV

I can only imagine what Jey said to Joe as things were getting more tense by the second.

“You think you a big man, huh, Lil Jey? You can’t compare to me…This is all mine cause I’m the champ, I run this show! Joe exclaimed in the microphone gesturing to the arena.

This is my camera!” he yelled talking into the camera. Thank God they seem to be back on track with their segment. This had truly been a trainwreck thanks to Joe who was now at the commentator’s table.

“I own these commentators that talk about me and nobody else!” Joe yelled pointing at Cole and Wade before he slowly began walking toward Saxton and I.

“Aye, watch it,” Jey said seeing Joe coming towards us.

“I even own the ring announcer! I’m trying to get you to understand Jey everything belongs to me, and you can’t have it!” he said in his commanding deep voice almost making me jump.

I saw Jey getting out of the ring, heading towards us as I froze.

Joe now stood in front of me almost as if he was contemplating what to say as he bit his lip looking me over. Joe wouldn’t put me out here like that in front of all these people.

He knows how private I am about my personal life. He isn’t going to do this to me, he just wants to rile up Jey.

 “Candice…… Aulelei, how bout you tell lil Jey how I own every inch of you,” Joe bragged smirking at me as I slapped him before I could stop myself.

“You son of a bitch, I can’t believe you did this!” I shouted as Jey grabbed Joe’s arm, turning him around, punching him in the face.

Joe almost collided with me from the force of Jey’s punch. Thank god Saxton was fast-moving and moved me out of the way.

 “I told yo’ ass not to say her name!” I could hear Jey yell as they traded blows. “Somebody stop them!” I yelled as Paul Heyman came over to me offering a comforting arm. “Let’em fight it out sweetheart it was bound to happen,” he said as I groaned in frustration.

I didn’t want Jey to get in trouble because of me.  As they brawled back and forth backstage officials ran from the back.

The crowd was eating it up thinking it was part of the show.  “Let’s get you outta here, ok,” Heyman said gently guiding me behind Saxton as we made our way through the crowd to the backstage area.

Jey’s POV

“Jey, that’s enough!” an official yelled as I threw Joe onto the announcer’s table and pounced, punching him over and over as I felt someone lift me off of him.

“Aye, let me go!" I yelled as Joe charged towards me as we fell threw the ringside guardrail trading blows. "I’ll kill you!” Joe roared. “We need more help!” another official yelled as I felt like an untamed animal trying to tear apart my cousin.

You gon’ learn today, stop fuckin’ wit people.

Joe’s POV

“This shit ain’t over!" I yelled as Jey, and I were trying to tear each other apart.

“You damn right it ain’t cause every time you disrespect Candice, I’ma beat yo’ ass again!” Jey yelled as he got the last lick, kicking me in the face as security lifted us both up off the floor separating us.  

Jey held his hands up in surrender as security grabbed his arms leading him backstage. “Damn, his lil ass can hit hard,” I muttered regaining my bearing and grabbing my title as the crowd booed me.

“Shut up!” I hissed heading to the back wiping the blood from my mouth as several officials walked back with me.  

Candice’s POV

The backstage area was even more chaotic as a group security and officials were leading Jey backstage.

“What the fuck ya’ll all on me for! He been askin’ for this ass whoopin’!" Jey shouted pulling away from security.

“Calm down Jey, this ain’t helping, go check on Candice” Heyman said which seemed to snap Jey outta his rage as he came towards me. "I’m so sorry baby," he whispered taking me into his arms as I felt relieved he was ok.

“I’ll beat yo ass Jey that was so unprofessional! Joe yelled coming into Gorilla as I rolled my eyes at him trying to pass the blame like he didn’t do shit.

 “Unprofessional, are you serious? They shoulda’ let Jey whoop your ass some more because you deserve it with that shit you just pulled!” I hissed mad as hell as Paul stood up from the monitors and I could tell he wasn’t happy either.  

“Joe, in my office Now!” Paul shouted as Jey grabbed my hand as we stood side by side waiting to hear what our boss was going to say next.

“Candice I’m really sorry about all this, Jey take her back to her office, I'll handle this,” He said as Jey nodded before leading me away from the chaos.

Joe’s POV

“What the fuck do you need to talk to me about?" I asked shaking my mouth, tryin' to loosen up my jaw as I could feel Paul’s anger spilling off of him in droves.

“I need to see if I’m going to have you as world champion on this show, or if I’m going to vacate your title for that shit you just pulled out there with Candice and Jey,” he said his voice booming angrily throughout the small space.

“I’m sorry boss, I don’t know what came over me,” I said trying to smooth things over as he looked at me not buying what I was selling.

“No your not, my show is in the shitter tonight because of your selfishness. Candice feels violated, Jey’s pissed off , and I don’t blame him quite frankly.

“It wasn’t my intention boss, I just got carried away,” I said honestly wiping the last bit of blood from my mouth.

I knew I was going to have a black eye in the morning with how It was hurting but my pride was hurting worse.  

 “Because of the shit you pulled Cole is out there having to explain to the audience and the people at home how that wasn’t a part of the show and to respect everyone’s privacy at this time even though you brought them into ya’ll business Paul hissed.

Your right, that’s not how we handle business,” I said as he interrupted me.

“You jeopardized this show and put Candice in a situation she didn’t ask for. You damn right that ain’t how we handle business or what we stand for, so for the moment you’re suspended. Now get outta my building,” Paul growled walking off as I sighed looking around at the crowd that had formed looking at me in shock.

Damn, what is wrong with me...

Jey’s POV

“I’m ok Candice,” I said trying to reassure her as she looked me over. “I don’t want you to have to go through this type of shit because of me Jey, “she said trying to keep her tears at bay.

"Aye, don’t cry baby, I’m good, and it’s not because of you. This all on Joe,” I said taking her in my arms as she held on to me tight.

“This should have never happened,” she whispered as I comforted her.

I knew in my heart this blow-up was bound to happen wit Joe and in a way, I’m kinda glad it did.

Tonight, he found out I ain’t no punk and I fight for what’s mine. I don’t think he will be a problem anymore.

“I’ma talk to bossman right quick, then come back and watch you do your thing ok?” I said making her smile as I kissed her gently.

" I’ll be here waiting," she whispered letting me go as I opened the door, I came face to face with Joe.

“What you doin' here? What, you wanna go again?” I asked as Joe shook his head. "Nah, I come in peace," he said, sighing I allowed him inside, as I went to stand beside Candice.

“I just wanted to apologize to you both and tell you I’ve been suspended. I thought you should hear it from me,” he said as I looked at him really not knowing how to feel.

The silence became defining as I tried to find the right words to say

. “Joe, maybe the time off can help you clear your mind, and get stuff straight. All this stuff you’ve been doing isn’t you, and you better than this,” Candice said holding my hand as Joe glanced down at our intertwined hands and sighed.

“You really love her don’t you Jey?” He asked as I looked at Candice, then back at him.

“I always loved her, you know that Uce,” I said honestly as rubbed his hand over his face. He was fighting an internal battle I couldn’t help him with.

He had to let her go, she wasn't his anymore.

 “Are you in love with Jey, Candice?” Joe asked as I felt her grip tighten on my hand. “Yes, I am in love with Jey,” she answered without hesitation her eyes firmly on me as I kissed her hand.

“Well, I guess that’s it, huh," Joe said as Candice looked at him in confusion.

"Uh, Jey, take care of her, she's very special. And if you don’t,” Joe started as I interrupted him, “I’ll be expectin’ you Big Uce,” I said as he nodded and left without another word.

“Did he just do what I think he did?" I asked Candice as she seemed to not be believing what had just happened either.

“I guess only time will tell,” she whispered as Finn Balor walked in.

“Candice are you ready for me? he asked with a smile as she waved him further into the room.

“Yes, I’m ready, if you can stand over there we can get started,” she said giving my hand a final squeeze before going to pick up her camera.

 “Alright Finn let’s work,” she said laughing as he flashed her a goofy grin and began posing. I loved watching her work, but my mind was still on Joe…

I mean was it over and done like that or did he have something else up his sleeve?

I guess Candice is right only time will tell. But for now, I had my lady and that was all that mattered.

Taglist: @reci24 @southerngirl41 @vebner37 @jeyusos-girl

@melaninsugababy @romanreignkisser @bebesobrielo

@arination99 @2-muchsauce @bakugoumarianawrites

@empressdede @alyyaanna @christinabae @anonandwannakeepitthatway @venusesworld @jeyusosgirl  @theninthwonder

[jaebeomsbitch]

Puppy (R.R.)

PT. II

Summary: Meeting Roman Roy at a gala leads to other things or Roman Roy entrances you with those big hazel eyes.

Warnings: None

Authors Note: My palate cleanser! I was originally going to shorten this all into one story but my brain is so fried right now. Not edited as always

You’d met Roman at a company gala, you were the plus one of a random schmuck Roman didn’t know. His eyes kept flitting towards you as you walked around the room. He couldn’t pinpoint why, maybe it was because you were hot or maybe because something about your presence commanded power. He could see the way your shoulders are squared back, your mouth moving like you’re not taking any shit. He decides to walk up to you as whoever you were talking to walks away. 

“What brings you to this fickle fest at the chuckle factory?” He says, leaning against the cocktail table. 

“A little bit of business and a little bit of pleasure,” You say, taking a sip of your champagne.

“Well, you certainly picked the right party of that second one. We are drowning in it in this crowd of the rich, the insufferable, and the wannabe,” He says, hazel eyes unmoving from yours. 

You hum, taking another sip of your own drink, the bubbles sliding down your throat. Roman’s eyes follow the way your throat bobs when you drink down the expensive champagne. You can’t help but smirk at the way he seems so focused on you. Roman Roy should be off schmoozing some schmuck for his Daddy’s business but he’s here giving you those signature ‘fuck me’ eyes knowing god damn well he couldn’t if he wanted to. 

He smiles back at you with that signature Roy smile, showing off all his perfect straight teeth. 

“Is this when you finally tell me your name or do I have to keep calling you Miss Business and Pleasure?” He says.

“You can keep calling me that. I enjoy a little game of mystery,” you say walking around him. You skirt through the crowd until he loses you in the crowd. You turn your business side on and start schmoozing some potential clients.

Roman spends the rest of the night hunting for you. He sees the occasional glance but then you turn a corner or dip behind someone. He notices you talking business to one client and he takes his chance. 

He goes to the same person and starts to subtly undercut what you’re saying to the client. He wants to see how you react. Unluckily for him you’re incredibly quick witted and unfazed. You meet his every undercut with your own. 

Once the client leaves you turn to Roman with an smug smile knowing they liked you more 

“Nice try Romulus, you’ll catch ‘em later tiger” you wink, a smug smile adorning your lips. 

You’re skirted away by Kendall who grabs you by the elbow. He whispers something in your ear, eyes looking over to Roman that fire of competition in Kendall’s eyes. Roman can feel that heat in his gut bubble like pure rage. They’ve never been into the same type, why was Kendall picking you? Kendall walks away, phone to his ear. 

Before Roman can approach you again someone else is greeting you with a fresh glass of champagne. Roman tries to look away, his eyes avoiding you at all cost but like a magnet, eyes flit back towards you. The way your lips move, your hand brushing off the strangers, your hand tightening around the glass before placing it on the cocktail table. Your eyes find Roman’s jealous gaze. 

You excuse yourself walking towards Roman,  you can practically feel his anger masked with faux cockiness. 

“Who pissed in your cereal? Nevermind you look like you’d enjoy that type of thing,” You say, grabbing a fresh glass of champagne. 

Roman is caught off guard by your comment. He feels his heart skip a beat. You’ve managed to get him in this one. He has an annoyed grunt but also is trying not to smile from how good of a quip it was. 

He has to try and get you back so he says, “at least I’d have a nice bowl of cereal, Miss Business and Pleasure.”

You can’t help but laugh at his absurdity, “ I didn’t take you as a cereal eater” You say. Roman chuckles at that. He’s only met one person who could bounce off his quips this well.

“What do you take me for?” He says with the slightest hint of a smirk on his face.

“A 120 pounds wet, skips every meal, hair clumps falling out type” you say studying his body for a second. 

Roman is taken aback. No one has ever come at him like that. He tries to act unbothered but when he feels his heart skip a beat after just a second of your inspection, he gives a bit of a smile. 

“Is that so?” He says with a slight chuckle and a small smile. How had you seen him and broken him apart to his core so quickly? Most people couldn’t tell when he’d pushed expensive meals around. They're all too consumed with their own bullshit to notice Roman faking eating his meals and yet here you are reading him like a children’s book. Like he was the easiest thing to decipher. 

​​You hum in agreement, handing a waiter your empty glass. 

“Seems like my night has come to a finish Mr. Roy. I’ll see you, when I see you” you flash him a smile before walking out of the gala.

[juceynightmare]

dating 101 (18+) part 24 - cody rhodes x reader

my masterlist

dating 101 (18+) masterlist

pairing(s): cody rhodes x fem!reader, roman reigns x fem!reader

warning(s): swearing, slapping, marijuana usage, possessive!cody, unwanted advances

genre(s): college!au, slow burn, fluff, angst

|| previous part || next part ||

when cody walked back into his room and shut the door behind him, he didn’t expect ted to already be sitting at his desk facing the door with his hands in his lap. cody stared at him for a moment and silently cursed the world because he had actually wanted to be alone and listen to painfully sad music. “when did you get back?” cody asked instead of jumping head first into his mattress and screaming into his pillow out of frustration.

“at the perfect time. i saw you and y/n go back to her room all giggly and happy.” ted hummed, a knowing smirk on his face as cody sat down in his chair. “and when i walked by, i expected the door to be open, only to find it to be closed, and i know y/n usually has her door open, even if one of us were in there with her alone.” he continued, watching the way a blush had rose to cody’s cheeks.

cody didn’t have a bone in him that wanted to deny what ted saw. he already had enough on his plate already, especially knowing that y/n was currently in her room talking to roman about god knows what. “i like her.” cody admitted, pulling out his ipad and instantly opening up the spotify app so he could throw together a sad playlist for himself to listen to until y/n eventually gave him an answer. “i told her that i wanted to date her.”

“and…” ted dragged on the word, clearly expecting there to be a good outcome to the situation. he had front row tickets to watching his two best friends start falling for each other and had been waiting for one of them to finally admit to him that they had a thing for each other.

“and nothing.” cody sighed, already reaching for his backpack so he could pull out his airpods. “she’s in there talking to roman right now. if i’m honest, i don’t have much hope.” he admitted, visibly slumping in his seat as he put an airpod in one of his ears and began to put together a new playlist.

ted stared at cody in disbelief, watching the way his cocky, overly-confident, “i don’t have to try to get pussy because the pussy just falls right into my lap” roommate had retracted into a shell of uncertainty and insecurity. it was unsettling to say the least.

what was more unsettling was how far cody was in his insecurities that he truly believed that y/n wouldn’t choose him in the end. ted reached over and smacked cody upside the head, causing cody to look at ted with anger in his gaze.

before cody could retaliate and chew out ted, ted pointed his finger at cody and said, “you’re a fucking idiot if you think she’s going to choose roman over you.”

cody calmed himself down, turning his head to look back towards his screen as he sighed in defeat. “what makes you even say that?” he questioned, tapping away at his screen as he filled the playlist with endless songs to get cody in his feels. “man, i fucking start the day with her. every single day ever since we met. i tie her hair up so it’s not in the way while she does her skincare. and then i end the day with her. we’ve been fucking for the past week or so. i’ll tuck her in bed after cleaning her up, kiss her goodnight and leave even though i want nothing more than to just sleep with her by my side. but guess what, ted. roman’s still on her fucking mind.”

ted stared at cody with wide eyes. he certainly knew cody was leaving in the middle of the night to go fuck some girl, he had woken up to use the restroom in the middle of the night only to find cody’s bed empty. he just never would have guessed that the person cody was sleeping with was y/n.

“you took her virginity?” ted asked, remembering when y/n had admitted that she was a virgin. he watched the way cody nodded his head and open one of his drawers.

cody pulled out a pack of pre-rolled joints and his lighter. he took one of the joints out and placed it between his pursed lips, holding the box out to ted to offer him one. ted shook his head at the offer, watching as cody set the pack down on his desk and reach for his ashtray.

“were you her first kiss too?” ted asked as cody held the joint between two fingers and lit the end while rolling it. the question seemed to have put cody in a sour mood, and a scowl appeared on his face.

“roman was.” he muttered bitterly, bringing the joint to his lips after it was lit and drawing the smoke into his mouth. cody pulled the joint away from his lips as he held the smoke in his mouth for a few seconds before inhaling it into his lungs, exhaling as he slumped back into his chair.

ted nodded his head, turning away from cody as the man continued to puff, puff, puff, as if his life depended on it. ted didn’t even know that y/n had a bone in her body that was capable of “whoring” around, although it seemed he was proven wrong considering cody’s words.

“just trust that she’ll choose you in the end. it’s weird seeing you so insecure about yourself, man.” ted mumbled, not knowing how else he could reassure his roommate.

cody held the joint over the ashtray as he exhaled the smoke in his lungs. he tapped the joint against the edge, watching the way the ash fell on to the tray. he thought over ted’s words for a second before changing the topic, “roman texted me some weird shit. y/n texted him that she wanted to talk to him because… she told me she wanted to figure things out since she didn’t know what she want and i guess her first step is to talk to roman. but roman sent me some weird ass fucking text to me.”

ted looked over at cody as cody pulled up his messages app on his ipad. he tilted the ipad towards ted so that he could read over the message.

“last night was basement night at theta xi. i blacked out so i don’t remember a single thing, but something happened between roman and i clearly. there’s no reason for him to be so hostile. i don’t even know what i could have told her that’d piss him off.” cody groaned, already raising the joint back up to his lips once more.

ted sighed, shaking his head and turning the ipad back towards cody. “i don’t know, codes. clearly something bad if he’s threatening to kill you for talking to her. maybe ask randy if you said anything? i don’t think you should ask jimmy or jey, they’re loyal to roman.” he suggested.

cody nodded his head, remembering that y/n had told him that randy was the one to bring him back to the dorms. “yeah, good idea. i’ll text randy, he was the one that brought me back here. maybe i said some shit.” he hummed, already pulling up his text chat with randy so that he could send him a message.

across the hall in the other room was a very tense, panicked roman and a confused, fiery y/n. y/n had taken a seat in her chair, leaning back with her arms crossed over her chest while roman stood in front of her.

“you haven’t said a word in the past 3 minutes. having trouble thinking up another lie?” y/n scoffed, finally cutting the radio silence that had filled the room.

roman didn’t know where to go now. he was already in a frantic state of mind, having just visited his baby momma that lived two floors down to try and convince her, yet again, to get an abortion. and now here he was in y/n’s room thinking of all the ways he could manage to salvage their… whatever they were… in order to secure his 500 dollars from jey.

he had jumped to conclusions when y/n texted, only thinking that the only reason why she’d want to talk is because cody had remembered what happened the night prior and snitched. he hadn’t even thought of any other reason that she’d want to talk to him.

“what did you want to talk about?” roman asked instead, hoping she wouldn’t press any further.

“everything i heard from a little birdie, who isn’t cody, by the way. so keep his name out of your mouth.” y/n growled. and although she presented herself as demanding, on the inside she was internally freaking out.

there was no way roman was going to directly answer her questions about what he just said, and so, she took a page out of austin’s book and decided to put her drama club skills to use. improv was always her strong suit, according to austin.

she watched roman seem to tense up at the mention of cody, and confusion washed over his features when y/n said it wasn’t cody who had told her what she knew. of course, she didn’t know jack shit but roman believed otherwise.

“i’m an open book, roman. you know me, i’m not one to judge. it’d be better if you were just honest with me so i can hear straight from the person who’s in the center of all the drama instead of hearing multiple different variations.” she continued, watching the way roman seemed to be visibly fighting a war in his mind.

“how much do you know?” roman eventually asked.

hook, line, and sinker. y/n could practically hear austin’s voice humming in the back of her head.

“everything else besides whatever this is about another girl somehow being involved in the entire stint.” y/n replied, fully aware that the only piece of information she really had was the fact that roman had walked in here claiming cody’s a liar that there’s a girl that’s supposedly jealous of her and roman.

roman sighed, bringing his hands and rubbing his palms over his face. he had no idea how he’d get out of this one. it didn’t help that the stupidly expensive bouquet he had gotten her was still proudly being displayed on her desk. roman could feel a twinge of guilt tug at his heart.

he lowered his hands and responded, “an ex of mine.” he figured that was a neutral enough answer that wouldn’t land him in a deeper hole. he watched as y/n nodded her head and seemed to think of another question to ask him.

“alright if she’s just an ex of yours, then why does what she thinks about us matter?” she questioned. when roman could only stare at y/n with wide eyes, she knew that he didn’t have an answer that’d satisfy the both of them.

she sighed, bringing her hand up to pinch her nose. “you know what? i’m just not going to push it. i wanted to talk to you about ending things between us because i realized that i’m just really shit when it comes to dating and i need to take a step back from people.”

roman could hear the money leave his wallet, and god did he need those 500 dollars of his to stay in his wallet and for jey to cough up 500 out of his own wallet. “wait, what? was it something i did? is it because of her?” roman asked, trying to find some sort of doorway that was still open that he could slip himself into.

y/n let her hand fall from her face, letting it fall back against her lap. “no, i literally just told you the reason why. are you even listening or are you too stuck in your own head?” she asked. she knew she had roman right where she wanted him, watching the way he drew in a breath nervously and he began to fidget with the watch he wore on his wrist.

roman stared at her, trying to read her body language and the way her eyes seemed to hide something from her. however, he knew that he didn’t know y/n like that. whenever the girl would talk about herself, the man would simply pocket the information and focus on how sinful her tits would look in a specific shirt.

and it hit him.

she wasn’t even confronting him about the bet, which was arguably the most problematic part of the whole narrative considering that it directly involved her. she was bluffing about knowing everything. roman didn’t even know if she even knew about the fact that the “ex” he mentioned was pregnant with his child.

but that also meant she was deadset on ending things with roman.

“y/n, please. don’t we have a good thing going on?” roman asked, taking a step forward and reaching for y/n’s hand. when he grabbed her hand, y/n pulled her hand away from his so ferociously as if he had just burned her.

“roman, i know it’s such a shit saying but i really mean it. it’s not you, it’s me. i need to figure shit out, okay? i’m sorry if i lead you on or whatever, but i’m hurting someone that means a whole lot to me and it was sort of my wake up call that i can’t keep on going on dates with you while sleeping with somebody else entirely.” y/n sighed, unable to even look roman in the eye as she tilted her head downwards.

roman stared at her with wide eyes. she was actively sleeping with someone else while roman was out here trying to get her to sleep with him by going on dates. he, jey, and jimmy had clearly gotten the wrong narrative about y/n. they thought she was a goody two shoes through and through: the type of girl that would only sleep with a guy if they were dating. she had even turned down roman when he made advances towards her and told him that she’d have to be his girlfriend before they went any further.

“it could have been that easy all along?” roman asked, and the change in his tone had made y/n look back up at roman. she was confused by roman’s words, not knowing what roman was even referring to, but what had caught her attention was the way roman’s voice had deepened to a sultry tone. and suddenly, roman was crouching down so he was eye level with y/n, his hands on her knees. “look, no matter how good this guy is at fucking you to the point where you were so deadset on having me wait until we start officially dating, i can assure you that i’m better. just give me one night, doll.”

y/n stared at roman with wide eyes, and she roughly pushed his hands off of her knees when they began to travel upwards. “i don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but i can assure you that i did not ask to talk to you just so you can ‘prove’ to me that you’re a sex god.” she huffed, scooting her chair back and standing up. “roman, if you want me to even think of you as a friend after all this, i think you should leave right now.” y/n suggested, watching the man stand up.

roman rested his hands against her hips, pulling her close to him and tightening his grip on her when he felt her press her hands against his chest to try and push him away. “come on, don’t be like that, doll. just one night.” he hummed.

y/n forcefully shoved roman away, stepping around him and opening the door. she turned to look at him, feeling the parts of her body that roman had laid his hands on begin to burn in the worst way possible. “get out. i’m not fucking you, roman. that’s not going to change my mind on ending whatever this is between us.” she huffed.

y/n hadn’t realized that across the hall, ted had opened the door to further air out the room because even with the window open, cody was absolutely hotboxing the fuck out of their enclosed space. he just so happened to have opened the door right when y/n had already turned back around.

“close the door, doll. it doesn’t have to be like this, come on. just one night and i can make you forget all about that guy and we can go back to having our little dates and what not.” roman continued to press, clearly not caring that ted was watching from his doorway. he walked towards her, placing his hand on her waist and already moving to shut the door closed before she smacked his hand away from her.

“stop fucking touching me, roman! how many times do i have to say it to get it through your fucking skull? you and me should go back to being just friends before i hurt anyone else. and if you still want to even be considered my friend, i suggest you walk your ass right out of this room.” y/n seethed.

roman grunted, “you’re being fucking difficult. so you’ll put out for some other dude but not me? come on, doll. stop being such a fucking prude.” roman placed his hand on the door and began to shut it, as he backed y/n into the wall, but before he could shut the door and y/n could push him away, the sound of a hand colliding with the door to keep it open rang throughout the hall.

“don’t call her that, roman.” ted called from where he stood behind cody, who was currently pressing his entire body weight against the door to push it all the way open.

roman took a step back from y/n, watching as cody stood in front of her protectively, swaying side to side in his doped haze. cody had a hand out behind him, keeping y/n tucked behind his frame as he glared at roman through his bloodshot eyes.

ted stepped in to the room, observing the obvious tension that had risen between cody and roman. ted knew cody would have probably said every insult that existed to roman and chewed him up if he were sober, but cody had gone nonverbal not too long after he had started smoking - a sign that the man was long gone in the clouds. even though the man was high out of his mind and couldn’t even hold himself up on his own two feet, something about hearing roman and y/n had made cody shoot out of his seat and storm over to the room before ted could even react - and ted was the sober one.

“ted. codes. it’s cool, i’m just trying to work something out with my girl. i’m not giving up on her. on us.” roman tried to reason. ted pulled a face when roman referred to y/n as his girl, while cody had visibly grown angrier.

“roman, if y/n is your girl then why don’t you just fucking listen to her and leave. we don’t want any trouble, man, and i’m sure you don’t want any either.” ted replied with a sigh, reaching out to place a hand on roman’s shoulder. roman shrugged off ted’s hand.

“look, i don’t care how close you two are to her. but what happens between me and y/n is none of your business. now, let me work things out with my girl.” he tried to get the other two to leave the room.

cody grabbed y/n’s wrist from behind him, pulling her in front of him and turning her around so her back was facing roman. he wrapped an arm around her shoulders to keep her pressed against his front as his other hand lifted the back of her shirt to proudly display the mark he had left on her lower back. y/n yelped at the sudden action, not knowing what cody was trying to do until she felt him lift her shirt and her eyes widened in realization. ted and roman both stared at cody’s name that had been engraved in her skin. the cut that read “cody’s <3” still red and irritated - a sign that it was a new addition to y/n’s body.

and when roman met cody’s gaze, he knew that if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under. cody narrowed his gaze at roman, and growled out a single word that could have been taken as a threat with how much malice it held.

“mine.”

|| next part ||

[happyk44]

Ya know what I find really weird in PJO but I can't find an alternate explanation for/scene for and so it must stay in my brain as a "I can't find the solution for this and it's making be rage" thought?

The whole "Greek and Roman Deities Fighting Each Other" for the same brain/body. Like, I somewhat get it from the author's standpoint but as someone who knows both of their myths, I'm like??? They literally both have their own gods without "counterparts" like Bellona, which Rick acknowledges within the series and each deity literally has different values within somewhat same domains. Like, Juno? Entirely different epithets from Hera, although they share the same "place" within their pantheons. And, yes, there are some overlaps which come from the fact that Rome came after Greece and has a lot of influence from the Greeks, just like our books and literature has a lot of overlap with ancient cultures and, very specifically, America with European roots. That's just how humans work! Look at literally any fictional book with its own "world" and see all the things it took inspiration from! Even Tolkien! Especially Tolkien! And now look at the things we took from Tolkien.

It's just. I don't know what to do about this and I'm mad about it. Do I like, make the whole scene change when the gods change. Do I replace their entire beings with the other culture's. Do I make them coexist and just pop up everywhere? Answers, brain, answers.

[Coming from an author who's especially enraged bc he's trying to write a Mortal!Big Three AU after the series with a lot of roman influence but a majority of the series is based on Greek Influence--even Camp Jupiter, who has child soldiers??? Dude, they should be adults-. "Oh what about Jason and Reyna?" Make a funny little plot thing where literal adults are tasked by one of their Patron Goddess to take care of a Small Child which they literally did not ask for and raise him/it to be a functioning soldier. Make it so when we're introduced to The Camp via Percy, the soldiers groan because they're literally being run over by children, wtf man. Anyway, if someone writes this into something or finds a fic with an idea similar to this, send it to me <3--and so now he has to do a lot of research based in roman culture with very little Referenced Points.

{The author's starting to but it's gonna take a while and they wanna write this fic now-}]

<3

Fair warning it's like 4:30ish in the morning as I write this and I haven't slept yet so this might be all over the place but, yeah, Risk doesn't do enough to differentiate between the two sides within canon. So I think a lot of people come out of the series assuming that there's little to no difference between Greek and Roman gods and culture, aside from the change of their names. And since there's no perceived difference, they don't really do their own research.

Plus adding in details that aren't accurate to ancient culture/ideology (re: Neptune being hated because Romans weren't seafaring. Like. They were. They had a navy. And they didn't hate Nepetune) and then not elaborating any further on those details (we never see Neptune so we don't get to be exposed to how terrifying or different from Poseidon he is, we have no active child of Neptune to give us a reason why the modern day campers would be fearful other than a story about an earthquake, which I still find ridiculous because really? None of your siblings have ever made a devastating fuckup?)

It definitely could've been more well thought out. I mean I wrote a book featuring different gods, and a key player is Kali. In some text, Kali is an aspect of the goddess Durga. Durga has other aspects as well, such as Parvati. It's sort of similar to how the gods are presented in PJO/HoO. However, I wanted to clarify that Kali is a separate entity, so over the course of the last few centuries and as a result of colonization, she and the other aspects separated out from the principal goddess to be their own. She was the last to sever out. While she is worshipped as an aspect of Durga, she's still a goddess in her own right! But the aspect wording caught my attention and I wanted it to be obvious

With PJO/HoO canon, it could be the opposite. They started as separate entities but public perception caused them to merge. We know through TKC that public perception affects the gods - gods that have been forgotten become senile. Why can't public perception affect them in other ways? In my book, less known mythologies and gods become weaker and weaker, especially as colonization has erased knowledge and artifacts, which is why I had them centralize their power into a collective that equalizes belief among the whole of them (with a little boost for the well-known and worshipped), because hey, if it can happen to them, it can happen to you.

Anyway, a fun way to go about this is maybe making a joke that Hermes and Anubis can't interact because otherwise they start to combine and separating them takes time and energy and other people's help because of Hermanubis. The Greek and Roman gods want to be separate but because public perception tends to conflate them way more than they're already conflated, they're stuck battling it out. Greek gods tend to win more because, again, public perception tends to prioritize Greek mythology (at least I think so anyway) which is one of the reason legacies are so commonplace in Camp Jupiter in a way they aren't at CHB.

By this you can have "designer" legacies - kids with more than one godly ancestor (like Frank) in order to continue on the powers or strengths of multiple gods rather than just the one. With the way New Rome is structured, I can't imagine why demigods wouldn't hook up with one another. With CHB, you can leave so relationships between demigods may fizzle out after the summer or when demigods choose to stop coming back to camp for whatever reason. They also don't have to send their kids to camp, and can train their kids on their own, so less interaction with legacies is had with CHB, and thus godly influence slowly dies out as the legacies don't hook up with one another or other demigods. There's also the ever present risk of monsters, so Greek legacies may survive less.

With CJ, everyone tends to migrate into New Rome when their service is done. Between school, work, and homing options, there's less reason to leave, less likelihood of relationships fizzling out, higher likelihood of multiple godly ancestors among legacies.

One of the things that I've complained about with the Greek vs Roman battling it out thing before and what I wanna reiterate again is that Frank should not have been the one to deal with both aspects of his dad arguing in his head. It should've been Jason!! The one who actually was unsure of his standing as a Roman or Greek demigod.

But there's no differentiation. Even the arguing in Frank's head is just "kill everyone!" and "war is great!" There's no line between Mars as war god and Ares as a war god, despite the reality that there was - Mars being more disciplined and Ares being more bloodlust.

And attempts at describing a difference are either unclear or delivered through secondhand information, like when Thalia claims that Jupiter seemed different to her when he came in that aspect of himself but in text, the actual exposure we get of him feels no different to what we've experienced of Zeus in PJO. Neptune vs Poseidon.

Why does Athena have kids but Minerva doesn't when both are virgin goddesses born from their father's head? Why does Minerva's status as a virgin goddess bear more significance than Athena's to the point she doesn't simply replicate the actions of her other self to have her own kids?

The only line of clarity I can really see is Pluto vs Hades, and even then, the characterization between the two of them is essentially the same, the only weight is in the importance of their godly priorities shown both through their kids (Hazel vs Nico) and described in text (wealth vs dead). But we get little to no other exposure or line of thought from other characters with the same godly parent, just different aspects. How does Frank differ from Clarisse, or Jason from Thalia? How does the chosen aspect of their godly parent affect their personality, their powers, the way they interact with the world or how others see them?

I do like that idea of random adults at camp being given a kid by various gods who are just "take care of this thing for me, thanks" and bouncing off. That's funny. But also lol, Jason being CJ's only child soldier. He's Jupiter's child, and a champion of Juno so he's special and must be treated as such, even if that's by being attacked by wolves nonstop as a toddler and then raised in barracks from ages 3 to 15. And when people go "what about Reyna" or "what about Frank", like, idk how commonplace it is in most places but I know the US has those like junior army clubs or whatever it's called, so why couldn't they just be part of CJ's equivalent to that and then run off to do their own thing with the others because they're teens with ADHD and impulsivity is a thing, especially when you care about your friends.

But, like, also the soldier aspect isn't really key. "What about Reyna?" She was gonna end up at Camp Jupiter either way. "What about Frank?" He needed to be trained because it'd been 16 years and the fact that he hadn't experienced any monsters up to 'til then can be written away as his mom and grandmother defeated them before he could be hurt, and then his mom died and his grandmother realized she won't always be here to defend him so fuck it, let's tell him the truth about his father and send him off to learn how to defend himself.

And again! It's as you said - epithets differ even between similar gods. Their priorities differ - both in ancient culture and with the god themselves. Principal gods differ. Mars was held to higher esteem than Ares - Frank's status as his son should've been exemplified. Mars was second to Jupiter in importance - Jason could've subconsciously adopted Frank as his second in command, which would've been neat because we know Frank struggles with anxiety and confidence and we know he wasn't all that thrilled with being Mars's son at the start, and him getting a bump up in status/importance could've been an interesting arc to navigate, as well as further cement the key moment in HoH when he takes over for Jason as praetor and leads the ghostly army.

[part-time-zombie]

Insult To Injury

pairings: BROTHERLY creativitwins

summary: Roman has been feeling rather worse for wear after the wedding fiasco, and it's getting harder for him to bounce back when his pride is constantly wounded.

tags/warnings: whump, hurt/comfort, the other sides are kind of unsympathetic, remus is a good brother, angst with a hopeful ending

word count: 5140

A/N: This was my first attempt at writing a whump fic, so I hope I did a decent enough job.

Normally, Roman loved taking his time in the shower. It offered him the perfect opportunity to indulge in all the best parts of life: singing, spa-like treatment, recreating his favorite scenes from media, and all things involving performance and personal time.

Lately, though, he found himself just wanting to get his showers over with as soon as possible.

Each minute spent by himself and completely exposed like this only made him all that much more aware of the steadily increasing number of bruises that covered his skin. The hot water helped to ease the dull, ever-present soreness that accompanied them, but it also meant he had to see them in all their ugly glory. Deep blues and purples that would look regal in any other context meshed horribly with putrid yellows and greens all over his skin. They were all just another shameful blot on his image, one he's had to hide from the others for God knows how long now.

It’s hard to say exactly when it got this bad, he just gradually became aware of it worsening over time. At first it was small, a side effect of his wounded pride after failing an audition or losing an argument. They healed quickly, and he moved on from them without looking back.

Now it was like every mistake was a harsh blow to the chest, cracking ribs and knocking the wind right out of him with each humiliating failure. Each one was horribly painful, and he spent most of his free time curled up in bed waiting for the stinging ache of the new wounds to pass or at least lessen. There were so many bruises now that it was hard to find an inch of skin that wasn’t marked, safe for his face. For whatever reason, the injuries never traveled anywhere too visible, and he didn’t know if he was thankful for the discretion or desperate for it to be noticed.

He didn’t understand why it was getting so bad for him lately, but he had his theories.

After the disaster that became of the wedding incident, he returned to his room and nearly passed out from the intense pain that blossomed across his skin. There, spreading rapidly across his ribs, was the first major bruise of several. It seemed the bruises lasted longer after that, especially when it was something that he specifically did wrong. If Thomas messed something up he would still hurt, but it wasn’t nearly as intense as what happened when Roman made yet another mistake.

He would try to win Logan over in a request for prioritizing something other than work, and when he was outvoted he’d have to struggle not to fall over from the severe pain that followed. He would see Patton talking happily with Janus in a way he used to do with Roman, and his lungs would ache with every breath he tried to take as he felt another deep bruise form. Virgil would agree with the others instead of him or laugh at his expense, and he would grow so sore it became a challenge just to get out of bed the following morning.

The worst was when it was from Thomas.

Thomas would favor Remus’ ideas over his, or trust Janus instead of Roman, and the pain would become so unbearable that all he could do was lie on the floor in his room and wait. Wait for the pain to ease up or just let him pass out, either way he wouldn’t be able to do anything other than lie there miserably for hours, sometimes even the whole day. He once wound up fainting the second he made it to his room, and when he woke up later the next day, he had to all but drag himself to the bathroom to examine and patch up the wounds.

Every mistake hurt, but it hurt so much worse when it was because of his own flaws. It was all just another reminder that he had failed Thomas. He wasn’t a hero to him anymore, or even a prince. He wasn’t good enough for Thomas or for any of the other sides, and this was his punishment.

He couldn’t tell the others about it, he just couldn’t. If he did, it would only make things worse. They would know that he was so weak that even something so simple as name-calling would wound him, and then the judgement would begin again. They would tell him to get a grip, grow a thicker skin, and move on. Move on just like how they all did from him.

It became routine for him. He’d go downstairs, be hit with a barrage of painful insults from the others, and keep smiling through it until he could retreat to his room and lick his wounds alone.

The bruises would eventually heal, though it seemed to take far longer than usual lately. Still, he found ways of managing the pain, if not fully lessening it. Where insults damaged, encouragement mended. He’d lie there in bed and play his most inspirational songs as loudly as he comfortably could, ensuring the others didn’t hear him whispering small reassurances to himself. It didn’t make the bruises go away, but it would dull the pain enough for him to carry on with the rest of the day or at least sleep through the night without hurting too badly.

As time went on though, those emotional band-aids became less and less helpful. The insults became more personal, more deliberate, and it became harder for him to believe it when he told himself he still mattered. What’s one person’s word against everyone else’s? If they all really mean it when they say he can’t do anything right, then it must be true.

It is true, isn’t it? Roman had messed up far too many times now, each time worse than the last. He failed Thomas, and no amount of private pep talks would erase that fact. That realization was what hurt him the most, far more than any of the still tender marks on his skin.

Roman really didn’t want to leave his bed. It’s not like he was just too comfortable, far from it actually. He was stiff and achy, and every inch of his skin was still sore from a rather brutal couple of days. As bad as he felt right now, though, it was better than going out there and receiving new wounds on top of the ones he’s still recovering from.

It hurt because it was true, and he couldn’t pretend it wasn’t anymore.

It would only be worse for him if he stayed in here, and he knew it. If he spends all day in his room then someone will eventually come looking for him, and when that happens they’ll tear him a new one for being so lazy and lying around in bed all day. It would be better to just face the music now.

Roman took his time getting ready, partially to stall and partially because moving too much risked agitating old wounds, and he wanted to put off the pain as long as he could. After finally being somewhat satisfied with his salvaged appearance, he slowly crept into the living room.

The others were all in the middle of breakfast, calmly enjoying their food while huddled together over a small kitchen table that really ought to be replaced with something larger to accommodate everyone. Especially since it looked like Janus and Remus were here to stay.

Virgil looked up from his plate and saw him, a teasing smirk spreading across his face.

“Looks like sleeping beauty finally woke up, guys,” he joked. “This might be the first time I was actually out of bed before him.”

“Now, you know how important our beloved prince’s precious beauty rest is,” Janus sarcastically cooed. “After all, his ‘looks’ are just about all he’s got to offer anyone lately.”

The others let out a few amused chuckles, but Roman hardly registered any of them past the swift and sudden pain that radiated from his torso, as if someone had just swung a large baseball bat into his chest. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from wincing, ignoring what they had said the best that he could as he tried to lessen the intensity of the injury.

it’s fine, you’ve got lots to offer them, you’re still valued…

The day carried on as normal, with everyone now going about their business and working on future projects. At any other time, Roman would have loved bouncing ideas off of the other sides, but now he only felt a heavy pit of dread. His ideas had been degrading lately, and no matter how hard he tried to focus on his work he couldn’t come up with anything worth using. He needed some time to rest and heal so he could get rid of this horrible creative block that thwarted him, but he had already put his work off for far too long now and he had to have something that worked. Unfortunately, he didn’t really feel like he had anything to offer, creative or otherwise.

The worst of the pain faded to a low but constant ache as Roman kept his head down and quietly plated himself some food, working to stay out of the spotlight he once coveted.

Logan called him to the living room to discuss video ideas, and the pit in his stomach turned into a sinking weight as he all but dragged his feet to the couch.

“Go ahead and share what ideas you’ve got,” he started. “Quickly, though, I don’t have all day.”

Roman bit his lip before handing over his folder, one that should normally be bursting at the seams with creative ideas, but was now utterly barren. Logan’s expression soured as he noticed the distinct lack of finished work.

“Are you seriously telling me you haven’t come up with a single idea?” he snapped, slamming the folder shut for emphasis. “You’ve had weeks to come up with something we could use, and you couldn’t think of anything? Even a bad idea is better than no idea at all, Roman. You know that.”

Roman turned his flinch into a nod as he felt the sharp, searing sting of another large bruise forming, this time on his back. He struggled not to clench his fists or screw his eyes shut as the hurt started to spread and dig into the muscles in his shoulders, instead focusing on keeping his breathing deep and even while the worst of the ache passed through him.

“I know, and I’m sorry, Logan. Really, I am. I just need a little more time and I- “

Logan cut him off with a sigh. “Never mind, I’ll just ask Remus. At least he still acts as creativity.”

Roman could only watch as Logan walked away, utterly unaware of the small whimper that escaped the prince’s lips as the bruise was struck at once again.

it’s alright, you haven’t failed, you’re still useful…

Dinner came and went far too slowly for Roman’s liking, and he was next in line on the chores list for doing the dishes. Normally that wouldn’t be an issue, but the injuries on his arms had yet to fade and he really didn’t need anyone seeing them when he rolled up his sleeves to start cleaning. He doubted he could put any proper elbow grease into the dishes anyway, considering the dull throbbing ache that awakened in his arms whenever he so much as wielded his sword lately.

The sting of the bruise stopped screaming at Roman long enough for him to gather his folder, but he still couldn’t help but groan in pain when he got up to put it away in his room.

“Please, I promise I’ll do them tomorrow,” he begged.

“C’mon now, you know we all gotta do our parts around here,” Patton scolded. “It’s just a couple of dishes, and the more time you spend complaining about it the longer it’ll take to get it done.”

“Stop being a child and pull your own weight for once,” Janus added, already pouring himself a glass of wine. “I’m not in the mood for yet another whiny Roman rant.”

Roman’s side flared up at that, a white-hot pain searing him as if he had just been branded. He gritted his teeth through the pain the best he could as he plunged his hands into the sink, ignoring the soapy water soaking into the sleeves of his outfit.

it’s okay, you’re still wanted…

Eventually it was time for a quick movie before bed, with the others already cozied up on the couch by the time Roman had changed into his own onesie. He was getting ready to gather some scrap paper for the votes when Logan stopped him.

The bruise calmed down a little bit after he finished the dishes.

“Actually, Roman, we’ve already decided on what movie to watch.” He stated.

“What? But we haven’t voted yet.”

“It’s not like it’d matter,” Virgil grumbled. “You’d just end up rigging the votes anyway.”

Sure, he was planning on it, but he just really needed to indulge on one of his comfort movies right now to recover after today. “But I wanted to watch- “

“Too bad,” Janus hummed. “We’re going to watch what we want, because believe it or not there are other opinions out there that aren’t your own.”

Roman barely had time to react before his other side tensed up with the emergence of a new bruise, and he could barely stop himself from grunting in pain as the wind was all but knocked out of him.

“Oh, by all means please moan and lament not getting your way,” Janus droned. “You totally aren’t acting like a spoiled brat right now.”

Another laugh, but Roman wasn’t paying attention. His aching legs were starting to shake, surely threatening to give out on him at any moment as the pain worsened. It all hurt so bad, so horribly bad, and he just couldn’t bear it anymore. He needed to get out of here, before it got any worse.

Roman turned and raced back upstairs, knowing full well this strategic retreat of his looked like a tantrum, but he didn’t care. He just needed to be alone when he inevitably fell apart in the next few moments. He didn’t want an audience, not for this.

He firmly shut the door behind him with a shuddered gasp, struggling to take some deep breaths.

you’re still needed…

The first thing Roman became aware of was the dull pounding in his head. The throbbing pain in his bruised body came next, harshly pulling him from the hazy state he was in and forcing him back to full consciousness. He didn’t know for sure how long he had been lying on his bedroom floor, but it couldn’t have been for very long. It was still dark outside, so he must have been there for only a few minutes or an hour at best. Either that or he was out for a whole day.

His legs finally buckled beneath him, and he collapsed.

He may as well just stay here for the rest of the night. It’s not like he had enough strength in him to stand right now, and they probably don’t want him coming back downstairs anyway.

The door opened with a startling bang, dragging Roman back into focus for the second time tonight. Remus bounded into his room with a grin on his face, fortunately dressed.

Sighing, he crawled across the floor until he could drag himself back into his bed on shaking limbs, hoping the pain would just let him sleep for a few hours…

“Shame you missed the movie,” he mused. “We all had so much fun watching it together!”

“I’m sure you did,” he muttered, slowly sitting up to face him and ignoring the sting in his arms from the movement. They probably had all that fun because he missed the movie.

“Yeah, well, you’d have known for yourself if you actually stuck around instead of running off to mope in your room all night. Last I checked that’s not the most heroic thing to do.”

Not heroic. Roman isn’t heroic. Janus said it first, and now so did Remus. Patton agreed with him, and no one else tried to argue otherwise because it was true. He’s not Thomas’ hero anymore. He’s not a hero at all now, he’s a failure. Another pathetic failure.

A disembodied blow struck harshly at Roman’s face with a resounding crack, and he howled loudly in pain before he could think to pretend he hadn’t been hurt. His eyes watered in an instant and his hands came flying to his face, half trying to hide his reaction and half trying to assess and remedy the injury. He lurched forward until he was nearly doubled over as an intense piercing sting spread out from the center of his face, and he let out a hiss as it sank in. He became acutely aware of the taste of blood in his mouth, and it was hard to get himself to breathe past how badly his head hurt.

“Shit, what the fuck happened?” Remus shouted, pulling Roman’s hands away from his face to get a clear look at the damage. “I didn’t even touch you!”

Roman could hardly see past the tears that stubbornly refused to stop forming, but he recognized the all too familiar sheen of blood on his hands.

“How the hell did you break your nose like that?” Remus asked.

Roman tried to talk despite his lack of an answer, only to end up spitting blood all over his onesie.

Remus responded by taking Roman by the arm and half leading, half dragging him to the bathroom. “Alright, hold on a sec. Let’s get ya cleaned up real quick. I mean, I wouldn’t care but for whatever reason you do,” he explained.

Roman tried not to wince at the intense pressure Remus had put on one of his bruises when he grabbed him and the stiffness in his residually sore legs, focusing instead on washing off the blood that had smeared across his face and rinsing the rest out of his mouth in the sink.

He straightened himself back up and nearly did a double take when he got a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Sure enough, his nose was badly broken and still slightly bloody, but it only fit in with his dark, sunken-in eyes, pale, almost fevered skin, and now blood-stained onesie.

“Y’know, it almost looks like you’re tryin’ to steal my look,” Remus joked, leaning against the counter with a bemused expression.

More blood dripped from his nose as the injury painfully flared up again, and Roman didn’t bother cleaning it up.

“Anyway, do ya wanna tell me what all that was about?”

Roman shook his head no, heading back to his bed.

“Aw, c’mon, why not?”

“Please, just leave it alone, Remus,” Roman muttered, turning back to face him. “I really don’t need to deal with this tonight.”

Remus clicked his tongue. “You and your damn pride.”

Roman’s bottom lip split clean open, but Roman hardly winced. It wasn’t the worst pain he was feeling at the moment, and he hardly even felt it at all.

Remus’ eyes grew wide in response (well, wider than they usually are) as a look of recognition and realization crossed his face.

“Oh. So it is about your pride, then, huh?”

“I said leave it alone,” Roman grumbled.

“I always kind of figured you’d take those terms literally. Y’know, like ‘bruised ego’ and ‘wounded pride’ and all that, but I didn’t think it could go this far. I didn’t think you’d let it.”

Roman crossed his arms and let out a huff, refusing to meet his eyes. He knew Remus wouldn’t let it go now, but he was hurting too badly to cater to him tonight.

“How bad is it?”

“What?”

“The bruises,” Remus explained, walking closer and crossing his arms to match Roman’s stance. “You’ve been tense and twitchy all damn day. At first I thought you just had some bad leftovers again or something, but it’s definitely because of how everyone’s been acting lately.”

Roman really didn’t want to talk about this tonight, especially not to Remus. “It’s nothing, really.”

Remus quirked an eyebrow. “Do you really want me to go and haul Janus in here to run a good old fashioned lie detector test on you?”

Roman grimaced at the mere mention of his name. He’d rather die than talk about this to that horrid bully that Remus for some reason considered a friend. “Absolutely not.”

“Then either start fucking talking to me or show me where it damn hurts.”

Roman let out a low sigh. Try as he might, it seemed there was no getting out of this one.

“Fine, just… just don’t say anything.” He muttered, moving to sit on the bed. His sore legs seemed to appreciate the brief respite, throbbing with a dull pain now that there wasn’t any weight on them.

Remus nodded and took a seat next to him, idly fidgeting with a loose string on his sleeve as Roman slowly, reluctantly, unzipped his onesie and took off the shirt he was wearing beneath it.

The room fell dead silent as Remus examined the myriad of messy bruises that littered Roman’s skin. Deep blues, dark purples, ugly yellows and lurid greens, all covering his body like paint haphazardly thrown at a canvas, only much less appealing.

“There’s more on my legs, but I’m not stripping down in front of you,” Roman mumbled, looking for any way to break the awkward silence.

“Why not? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“And you had no right to recreate the shower scene from Psycho like that,” Roman snapped. “It’s been years now and I can’t even close my eyes in the shower anymore because of you.”

Remus let out a high-pitched chuckle. “You gotta admit it was funny, though.”

“Maybe to you.”

Remus rolled his eyes and gave him a playful shove. “You’re such a damn buzzkill.”

Roman winced as Remus pushed down on another bruise.

“Oh, shit. Forgot about that,” he said, quickly removing his hand. “Does it still hurt?”

As if to check, Remus poked on a different bruise, this time eliciting a yelp out of Roman.

“Of course it hurts!” Roman exclaimed, moving further down the bed to set some more space between them. “That’s what bruises do!”

“Yeah, but… I didn’t think you’d stay sore so long,” Remus pondered, an odd look on his face. “I mean, you’d totally get all sore like this over another failed audition or something, but name-calling never really got to you before. At least, not this badly.”

Roman ran his tongue over his teeth, refusing to reply to that. Remus isn’t as dumb as everyone thinks he is, and if he figures this out then Roman may as well stay in his room for the rest of his life.

“So do ya wanna tell me what changed?” Remus asked him, resting his chin in his hand.

“Not really.”

Remus’ eyes lit up with the spark of a challenge he knew he’d win. “Then how about I go ask Logan and see what he thinks? Or maybe Virge or Patton, I’m sure they’d love to hear all about this.”

There it was. Remus knew the last thing Roman would want was for someone to see him looking anything but his best, and he wasn’t afraid to use that knowledge to his advantage. If Roman tried to call his bluff, Remus would surely go through with it.

Remus sighed and got up from the bed, clasping his hands behind his back in a casual yet resolute stance. “Welp, I guess I’ll take your silence as you not having an answer for me, which means I’m off to find someone who does,” he said, already walking to the door.

“No, wait a minute,” Roman started, grateful that Remus stopped before he could leave. “If you really aren’t going to leave this alone, I’ll talk.”

Remus smiled before closing the door, returning to his spot on the bed. “Alright, then I’m listening.”

Roman took a moment to pull his onesie back over himself, feeling much less exposed now that his bruised and battered skin was covered up and hidden away again.

“If it’s something that I did, you can say so,” Remus said, a startlingly sincere look in his eye.

“It wasn’t you,” he started. “You weren’t even there.”

“Well, who was?”

Roman swallowed back the lump in his throat. “It was Janus, alright?”

Remus cocked his head to the side. “What the hell did he do?”

“Just confirmed what I already knew,” he explained, wrapping his arms around himself. “I’m not Thomas’ hero anymore, and I’m not even sure I count as a prince now, either.”

Remus’ eyes narrowed. “I don’t follow. Firstly, you’re not making sense, and secondly, what’s any of that got to do with you getting painted with all the colors of the wound?“

Roman bit his lip again, only to wince when he agitated the fresh cut on it. Why did he have to spell it all out like this, isn’t being seen in his miserable state enough?

“I’m saying being a prince meant everything to me,” he started, already regretting his confession but too committed now to stop. “No matter what the others would say about me before, I could just ignore it because I was still important to Thomas. I was his hero, and that made me feel like I could rise above anything, but now?” Roman threw his hands out to his sides, as if he were putting all of his mistakes on display. “Now I’m nothing. I’m not the favorite, and he doesn’t care about me anymore. The names the others call me are true, and I don’t have anything left to say otherwise.”

Remus just stared back at him, his face completely open and unreadable.

“They’re allowed to say it,” Roman hastily added, not wanting to slander the others too harshly. They were still his friends, even if he wasn’t theirs. “They’re right, after all. I’m not being very helpful around here, if you haven’t noticed. I only make wrong decisions every time, and I make everyone else’s jobs so much harder for no reason. I’m not a hero, I’m hardly even half a side. I deserve this.”

“Bullshit!”

Roman stopped to look at Remus, whose eyes were aglow with frightening intensity.

“I’m not gonna hear you say any of that crap anymore, y’hear me?” he shouted, grabbing Roman’s face between his hands and forcing him to meet his gaze. “You’re literally beating yourself up, Ro, and I won’t let you keep doing that! Everyone knows you’re the better creativity, alright? You’re better than all of us and you know it too. You do so much for Thomas, more than any of us! You’re his romance, his ego, his passion, his whimsy, and the best part of his creativity all at fucking once! Not even Janus could juggle all of that shit, and he’s got six fucking hands! You make all of his dreams a reality. Fuck, you’re the reason he’s even got any dreams at all! You’re goddamn vital, Ro, and you ain’t gonna forget that, got it?”

Roman’s vision went hazy again from the stinging tears that threatened to spill at any second. Why was Remus saying this, like it was true? He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force them back down, only for Remus to shake his head in his hands like it was a magic eight ball.

“Hey, I wanna hear you fucking say it.”

Roman opened his eyes again, though he found it hard to meet Remus’ forceful stare. “Say what?”

“Say that you’re goddamn vital and you’re not gonna forget it.”

Roman tried to squirm away, but Remus didn’t let go. “Say it.” he repeated.

“I’m vital,” he weakly choked out. “I’m not going to forget it.”

“Try saying it like you mean it,” Remus said. “You’re goddamn vital, and you fucking know it.”

Roman forced down the lump in his throat and repeated again, this time firmer. “I’m goddamn vital, and I’m not gonna forget it.”

“Again.”

Roman’s voice rang out, steady and clear. “I’m goddamn vital, and I’m not gonna forget it.” As he said it, he realized he was starting to believe it.

Remus smiled before finally releasing his face. “That’s fucking right!” he cheered, pulling Roman into a tight hug before he could stop him.

Roman pulled away at first, not just because he knew of what Remus’ idea of cleanliness counts as, but also in dreaded anticipation. He had spent weeks grinning through the crushing pain of Patton hugging him or Virgil giving him a friendly slap on the back, trying his best to pretend it didn’t open up the bruises and hurt him all over. Now, with Remus trapping him in a tight hug, Roman squirmed and held his breath as he waited for the familiar flare of pain.

A flare that never came.

Remus must have realized the reason for Roman’s flinching, as he quickly let him go and inched away from him after mere seconds of contact.

“Shit, I forgot again,” he groaned. “Did I hurt you too bad?”

Roman slowly shook his head, pulling up one of his sleeves to examine the bruises on his arm.

They were starting to fade. Not quickly, and they were still very much there, but the bruises had reduced in size and shade until it was much less noticeable, and far less painful.

“Hold up, look here,” Remus said, pulling Roman’s face back to him. “Your nose isn’t broken anymore,” he muttered, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “And your lip isn’t busted up either.”

Roman pulled his face away and examined it himself, surprised to see that it was in fact intact.

“Wait, did I fucking fix you?” Remus asked, voice raising to an excited shriek.

“I think so,” Roman mused, lightly pressing on one of the larger bruises on his ribs and finding that it didn’t hurt as badly as it did a mere hour ago. The pain was still there and likely would be for a while, but it was lighter, only acting up when agitated and quieting down the rest of the time.

Remus let out a loud whoop as he pulled Roman into another hug, one that lasted much longer than its predecessor. “Holy shit, I did a good thing!” he exclaimed.

Roman returned the hug, feeling the best that he had all month. “Yeah, you really did.”

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[wambsgansshoelaces]

Waiting For You

Chapter 1; Dolore

Siobhan Roy x fem!Reader

a/n: i’m in love with shiv thank you goodbye ! hope u enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it x love u all

Word Count: 3.308k

“How crude.”

You turn, seeing her for the first time. Her hips fill out her dress, the collar low cut. That was a lie, though. You’ve seen her plenty of times before. You were co-heads of News at Waystar Royco.

You can barely remember the first time you two met. Your family had been close enough to her father to bring you round often. You’d met when you were five, clicked, and haven’t separated since.

You do remember the first time you’d found her pretty- more than platonically. The feelings were big and, honestly, horrifying. You knew your parents would never accept any sort of same-sex relationship, let alone one that you had. She was, is always so damn ethereally breathtaking. And the tightening anxiety in your chest is telling you what it’s always said; this will never happen.

You and Siobhan Roy stand shoulder to shoulder, staring up at Michelangelo's David.

“You’re a spoilsport.”

“Nobody says that but my mother.”

You try to tune out the chatter around you. “How many people did he fucking invite?” you mutter to her.

“I don’t know. I can’t care enough to ask.”

You knew how she felt about her father remarrying for the third time. She didn’t like it the first time it happened when she was alive, obviously, and the new woman wasn’t an improvement. She was closer to him in age, thankfully, but was almost definitely a massive piece of shit he was marrying because she ‘gives him what he wants’, whatever that means.

The two of you, despite your initial not wanting to come, have to save face. After all, she was his daughter, and you have known him long enough to consider him close to you.

“Where are they, anyway?” you ask, peering out at the crowd.

“Probably fucking.”

“Ugh, you’re fucking gross.” She grins back at you, hooking her arm through yours. Your chest flutters at the touch. You drop your voice low. “You think he’ll do it?”

Kendall and Logan Roy are at war. After painful, elongated internal conflict, Kendall broke away with the support of a few major shareholders. He started his own company, and now there were two large media corporations dominating the world market- both pitted firmly against each other. You didn’t really see Kendall as a villain, nor did Shiv. Honestly, you think you prefer him over Logan.

And since Logan can’t take anything lightly, he’d secretly bought up shares within Kendall’s new company and, as per Shiv’s words, was getting ready for a proxy battle. You knew that the entire reason Kendall quit Waystar was because Logan had refused him the throne, over and over again, despite his promises. And now, his father was after him. Again. Shiv told you he was going to serve Kendall soon. You didn’t know when.

“God, I hope not. It’s too much to think about,” she says back. “It’s already enough that he’s running around shitting on so many journalists. Dad wouldn’t stand a chance against Kendall, if poor Kenny knew what was happening. Anyways, if Dad does anything dumb, we’re going to have to clean it up.”

The two of you take a stroll, arm in arm. Your heels click on the marble tile once you arrive back at the massive stone mansion rented out for you to stay in. Shiv redirects you to the bar. Even though you didn’t drink, you always accompanied her.

Her first glass of whiskey goes down slowly as you watch the people around you. Kendall is minding his business, his kids curled up against him, asleep. You have no idea where Roman is, and you think that’s for the best. Connor and Willa entertain their own group, his arms gesticulating in weird directions. Greg wanders around, drink in hand, chatting idly among the crowd.

Then there they are, at last. Logan, his soon-to-be wife right at his side.

“What’s her name, again?” you ask Shiv.

“Maria, I think.”

“That’s… really similar to Marcia.”

She lifts her shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t know what he sees in her. She runs some press/media company, and first time I met her to tell her to piss off on one of our news sects, she called me a cunt and then released that one paper with a picture of me sneezing.”

You sink into the couch you’re both sat in. “I don’t understand some people.”

“She wants my job. Technically also your job, but mine because she wants me gone.”

“Why?”

“Greedy,” is all Shiv says. “Her company is doing shit. But she stays afloat ‘cos she’s tethered to Dad.”

The elderly couple are making their rounds, greeting all who are gathered. Mostly everyone has flocked back from the art viewing, and the alcohol is beginning to flow. The two finally make it to you, and you and Shiv get to your feet.

“Logan,” you greet him, only giving Maria a slight not. He leans forward and claps a hand onto your shoulder.

“I’m glad you could make it. Tell your old geezer I say hi next time you see him.”

“He’s around here somewhere,” you laugh.

“The bitch has been avoiding me. He has some loudly wrong opinions on tie fabrics, eh, Y/N?” He laughs with you. Here, away from business, he’s a completely different person. You pray he doesn’t serve Kendall during your stay in Florence- this new Logan is a welcome change in persona. Shiv says nothing, eyeing Maria with her lips pursed.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Shiv says finally, whiskey in hand. The amber liquid swirls as her weight shifts from foot to foot.

“Work’s been busy,” Maria says back. “Lots of… digging to do.”

“Really? That must be such an interesting line of work,” Shiv replies immediately, “Anything juicy?”

Maria’s eyes meet hers. “Very.”

You and Logan exchange a glance.

“Well, if you ever need any help…,” Shiv begins, looking between her father and his fiance. “Y/N and I are pretty good.”

Maria presses her lips together in a thin line. “I’ll let you know. But, why talk of work when we are in Italia?” Her Italian accent twists all of her words, making them lilt, dance, and mingle together.

“Because,” Shiv says. “Business can’t just be left alone.”

Maria turns to you. “You share this sentiment?”

“I do,” you say, meeting Shiv’s gaze. “But I’m happy to be in Italy. It’s beautiful.”

“I think our shared ‘sentiment’ is that we take care of things we need to, even abroad,” Shiv continues.

This conversation has too much reading in between the lines than you’d like.

“Oh, don’t you worry, then. You’ll be able to enjoy the wedding day in peace.”

“Just the wedding day?” Logan asks, slightly miffed. “I think I should remind us we’ve agreed to ‘no business’, especially with Kendall and I’s… issues.”

You and Shiv exchange a glance. “No promises, Dad.”

“I’m being serious, Siobhan,” he says gruffly. “No funny business.”

Her whiskey’s all the way gone, now, and the two of you return to the bar. While you wait for her drink, you spot Roman pushing his way through the crowd towards you, buttoning up his dress shirt. He comes to lean against the countertop next to you, and leans close to whisper in your ear.

“Hey, my girlfriend told me to tell you that Maria’s a scheming bitch.”

You snort. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, when my girl was at work at her firm, she overhead a call being taken by one of her associates… She eavesdropped, and apparently, Maria’s been looking into the legal side of business.”

“Why aren’t you telling Shiv this?”

“Because I know you’ll know what to do with this better than she would. Besides, Maria gives me an icky feeling. Fucks with my ju-ju.” He gives your arm a pat. “Fuck my step mother up for me, will you? Thanks.”

You make a face at him and wave him off. He flips you off as he walks away.

Shiv’s now Ieaning against you, glass of presumably more whiskey raised to her plush lips. They’re stained a rich red, offsetting the orange of her hair and making her eyes glint in the bar light. Her lashes flutter against her creamy skin, staring at the bottom of her drink.

“Feeling okay?” you ask over the chatter.

Her cheek presses against your bare shoulder. She’d convinced you to wear some off-the-shoulder dress she said was the ‘pinnacle of style’. She sighs melodramatically.

“All of this bullshitery. Their wedding is all just another stunt. Business wise, press wise. I can’t escape the theatrics,” she whines, taking a sip from her drink.

“What do you mean?” you prod gently. She got a bit erratic when drunk, and even though she was just barely buzzed, you didn’t want to push her to do something rash.

“Their entire marriage.” She leans close, her breath fanning over your face. “I swear she’s marrying him for the money. But look at him, Y/N… he’s so in love.”

You both watch as the couple slow dance together on the makeshift dance floor. Logan’s gazing at her, positively smitten, like Shiv had said. Maria, on the other hand, peers over his shoulder disinterestedly as they twirl around.

“She could at less sell it better,” you mutter. Shiv’s head is back on your shoulder, and she downs the rest of her drink.

“Also,” Shiv begins, turning and flagging down the bartender, “Conner said he saw her at dinner with Wyatt Harson. That guy that runs that other company that’s also miraculously Dad’s biggest enemy.”

Maybe you were wrong about her not being drunk.

“How much have you had…?”

She takes her next drink. “I don’t remember. I don’t care.”

Shiv wasn’t much of a reckless drinker. Something is bothering her.

“Wanna get out of here?” you ask, trying to lure her away from the bar. She nods, taking your elbow.

“Let’s go sit in my room. It has a big-ass living area,” she murmurs, leading the way.

You leave the main atrium, Shiv gripping at her skirts as you make your way up the stairs. When finally in her room, she throws herself onto the sofa and sighs, relaxing.

“So many fucking people,” she groans. “All of them scheming and plotting and villainous. Makes my head fucking hurt.”

You sit next to her, dress skirt pooling at your feet. She’s already finished her drink, and she sets the glass on the small coffee table in front of you.

“Wanna tell me why you’re trying to drink yourself to a bout of early onset dementia?” you ask her softly.

Shiv frowns at you. “How do you know?”

“I’ve known you long enough.”

“I couldn’t say, out there. When there were so many people. When Dad was there.” She sniffs, readjusting so that her legs are propped up on the coffee table. “Maria’s after my job. After me, the company, whatever.”

“I don’t like her either, but we can’t just speculate.”

“I’m not speculating.” She takes a deep breath, centering herself, and probably staving off an oncoming headache. “She’s blackmailing me,” she admits quietly. “She’s dangling information above my head in exchange for garbage on Dad and Kendall’s dispute. She’s… I’m pretty sure she’s trying to take Dad down. Maybe she weaseled her way into the will, I don’t know. But I can’t say anything.”

“Shiv, what the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me?” You turn to face her completely, folding your leg under your body.

“It literally happened this morning. I gave her some bullshit lie, saying something about how Kendall was planning to serve Dad instead of the other way around, but lying is only going to work once.”

“What does she have on you?”

Shiv bites her lip, worrying at it with her teeth. “It’s… it’s bad. Like, in my own writing bad.”

“You’re Siobhan Roy. And I love you, Shiv, but you can just lie. You’ve done it before.”

“This is different, Y/N. I… I can’t. She, like, needs to die.”

You blow out a breath of air. “What do you want to do?”

“Kill her,” is her first answer. When you make a face, grimacing, she amends, “Try to figure out what she’s really doing.”

“Better,” you mutter. “How about we just… forget about it? For now, at least. She won’t have any time to do any sort of work, Shiv, promise. We’ll deal when we get back.”

She pouts. You feel your face go warm. Fucking hell, she's gorgeous. “And if she does have time?”

You shrug. “We deal anyway. But, come on, we should be enjoying ourselves. We’re in Florence. Can we just have fun?”

“We always have fun. You’re my only friend. My best one.” She takes your hand and gives it a tight squeeze. “And I really need to puke.”

“Buttering me up so I'll hold back your hair?”

She nods, lips pressing together. You shoo her into the bathroom, following and sitting by her side on the cool tile of bathroom floor. If it were anyone else, you’d have been disgusted, but this was a regular enough occurrence that you could keep her hair from her face with one hand and rub her back soothingly with the other.

After flushing the toilet, she groans. “Why’d you let me drink so much?”

“I literally only saw you drink three glasses. You snuck the other hundred. You should take a break from alcohol, don’t you think?”

She stays silent for a moment, staring into the toilet bowl. You’re sat flush against each other, your skin touching hers from shoulder to thigh.

“I’m sorry,” Shiv says under her breath. You almost don’t catch it.

“No you’re not,” you reply teasingly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

She chews at her lip before glancing sideways at you. “I feel like it’s always like this. You helping me when I do something stupid. I feel… I feel like I never do anything for you. And I don’t… It makes me feel so shitty.”

All you can do is look at her, stunned. In all your years of friendship, she’d never been so vulnerable. It’s the first time you’d ever even heard the words ‘I feel’ come consecutively from her mouth. You hold each others’ gaze, her glazing over with a sudden clarity.

You don’t say anything. You know she’ll talk when she’s ready.

After a few moments, she does.

“I… you’ve been around for so long. You’ve stuck with me for so long. And I… I… I don’t appreciate you enough. I don’t ever tell you how grateful I am to have you with me, that you’re literally my business partner, that we’re together 24/7. I know you mean well, and I’m a shitty person for thinking this, but whenever you’re supportive like this, you love me like this, a bit of me fucking dies inside because I know I’m never going to do something like this for you.”

Quietly, you ask, “But do you want to?”

“I do. I swear I do. You’re such an amazing friend, and I-”

“Shiv, stop.” You press the heel of your palm to the spot between your brows, trying to will away the forming migraine. “I just… Just try, okay? That’s all I ask.” Wordlessly, she leans towards you and gives you a loose hug, burying her face into your shoulder. You return it, pressing her to you tighter than you probably should. “You should go to bed,” you tell her. “You’ll be thankful for it in the morning.”

She sniffs. “There you go again. The perfect friend.” She wipes at her eyes, and you help her get to her feet. Her words bounce around in your brain. A friend. That’s what you are to her, and that’s it. Nothing more, you tell yourself. For your sake and hers.

Shiv’s changed into her pajamas, and you’re about to bid her goodnight so you can go rot in bed. Before you can, though, you remember something.

“Hey, can I ask something weird?”

“Always,” she says, crawling under the covers. You lean against the doorway to the bedroom.

“Don’t you think we should… warn Kendall? I feel horrible, just sitting here, waiting for him to get executed.”

She presses her lips together. “Why would we do that, though?”

“Why not? Honestly, I think he’s a better person, businessman, and boss than your dad is. And Logan’s been shitting on him for no reason his entire life. I’d feel like I wasn’t doing my due diligence if I didn’t say anything.”

She takes a second to think. “You think this can help in the long run?”

“From my point of view, we’re doing him a big-ass favor. And he’s the type of person to actually treat people around him the way they treat him.” You cross your arms over yourself, getting a little cold. “And I really wouldn’t mind jumping ship from Waystar to Kendall.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Shiv snaps suddenly. “Don’t flip. You can’t, and you won’t.”

An uncomfortable silence ensues. Through gritted teeth, all you say is, “Shiv.”

“I’m serious. I’m all for telling Kendall that he’s about to get fucked over, but you can’t abandon Waystar. Not if I’m going to still be there.” She catches the slight tremor that racks through your body from the chill. “But we won’t talk about that now. Like you said… We should be enjoying ourselves.” She breaks eye contact, looking down as she traces over the flowers printed on her duvet with her finger.

You sigh lightly, pushing off from the doorway. “Okay. I’ll go tell him before I go to bed.” You smooth out the wrinkles in your dress. “Good night, Shiv. Sleep well.”

So much for your earlier heart to heart. You turn, about to walk out into the hall.

“Good night, Y/N. Thank you.”

You give her a smile over your shoulder before shutting off the light and closing the door behind you.

You slowly make your way back downstairs, piecing together your speech in your head. The party is still going strong, and you feel like the noise has gotten ten times louder. You spot Kendall at the bar on his own, his thumb gently stroking the wedding ring sitting on his finger. You go to join him, and he gives you a soft hello and a small cupcake he’d mentioned was made by his wife.

“How are you feeling?” you ask quietly. “I know it’s been… a bit much.”

He laughs bitterly. “God. Dad’s been making my life hell. And I can only do so much to keep my wife, the kids, Rava out of it.”

You hum sympathetically. “Well, I hope what I’m about to tell you helps with that.” He turns to you, expectantly. “Mind if we take a stroll outside? The weather is always gorgeous.”

When the two of you are successfully away from any prying eyes and ears, walking through a garden, you let yourself relax. “Your dad has had a new investment interest.”

“Oh? I hadn’t heard.”

“Because it’s in your company.” He stops walking. “He’s secretly buying your shares, Kendall.”

“Oh my fucking god,” he says under his breath. “That’s why- shit, Y/N, that puts a lot into perspective.”

“Spike in purchases?” He nods, grim. “Yeah, thought so. And, uh, Ken?”

He doesn’t say anything.

“He’s going to proxy you.”

“That fucking dirt bag,” he hisses. His entire body tenses up, but he takes a breath, controlling himself. “Thank you, Y/N. This means a lot to me.”

“I thought you deserved to know.” A soft breeze blows back your hair from your face. “And between you and me… I’m glad to lend my help whenever you need it.”

Kendall nods slowly, hands clasping together.

“I’ll make sure to remember that.”

[ringanon]

Phone Call | Auston Matthews

Pairing: Auston Matthews x gn!reader

Warning(s): none

Word Count: 680

Summary: You call your boyfriend, Auston, before Game 6 of the 1st Round (2023)

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

"Hi, baby!" He had only been gone for a day, but you were still happy for the chance to talk to him. You set up the camera on your kitchen island, sitting on one of the bar stools.

"Hey, mi amor, we're about to head out, but I wanted to call you first." Auston's voice came over as somber: he was focused. There was intent in his voice. He set up his phone against the bed side table in the hotel room, grabbing the office chair behind him.

"Are we doing fit checks?" It had been a tradition of yours for every away game. Now that they were in the playoffs, it was crucial. He liked seeing you all pretty, you liked seeing him in formal attire.

"Obviously, whatchu rockin'?" He leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows against his knees.

"So we went with something a little calmer today. A couple of the girls are coming over here, we're gonna crack open a bottle or two of wine and watch the game. The jersey is a one-of-a-kind game worn jersey given to me by a player of the Toronto Maple Leafs. I think his name is Auston? He spells it with an O, not an I, tryna be different, or something.

The jeans are a light-wash Lee's that I thrifted from my hometown. I am not wearing shoes since I will be inside, but in case I do need to go out, I will be rocking my blue and white Air Forces that I got custom-made." Auston tilted his head, not quite sure which ones you were talking about. You dipped out of camera and picked them up from underneath the island. You had commissioned casual shoes to wear for games and events from a guy you saw on tik tok. Auston had only seen them a handful of times.

"Ah, I forgot about those ones. Looking good."

"What are we working with?

"I ended up deciding on the tan one."

"Oh come on! I expect a presentation! Some Pizzazz please, Matthews!"

"Fine! God! The jacket and trousers are the Lardini suit from Farfetch, shirt is from Men's Wearhouse, and the shoes are white Air Forces."

"That's better, we'll work on it."

He laughed, "are you watching the game tonight?"

"Do you listen to these presentations or do you just stare at my ass the whole time? A couple of the girls are coming over to watch, I got a whole spread, do you wanna see?"

"I would love to see the fruits of your labor, sweetheart."

You grabbed your phone from the island and stood up. Flipping the camera around, you walked around to the other side of the kitchen, "I wanted it to be mostly snack stuff, but I think Steph and Aryne will be here early, so I wanted actual food-food, but nothing too insane. We popped out with sliders- ham and cheese, and then I made a couple vegetarian ones. I also made a salad, nothing too insane, just Romane, crutons, cheese, and a vinnagrette that I made, and some chicken on the side that I chopped up."

"Oo bougie."

"I try, thank you. Next, we got a little grazing board thing. Most of this side is all white wine pairings and this side is red wine pairings, because I'm a good host who cares about her guests."

"Is that a dig?"

"Just a little. We got shrimp with cocktail sauce, and this is the spinach dip my mom used to make all the time."

"How long did it take you to prep the shrimp?" You turned the camera around to face you again.

"So long, you know I'm picky about them."

The door in Auston's room opened, "hey man, you ready to go?"

"Yeah, give me one second," He sighed, "alright, sweetheart, I gotta go. I'll talk to you after the game?"

"Go win a series for me."

"I'll try, let me know how your food goes over."

"I will, I love you."

"I love you more."

"That's impossible."

-💍

I'm clearing out the notes app. Can y'all tell? This one's short and sweet, though

[reasonablerodents]

(established relationship) Hotch wakes up to Spencer blowing him under the duvet....

Hello Star, my lovely co-writer of the Grease AU and long-suffering friend who watches me write Rodent Horrors with a pained expression!

Here is some NICE sucky sucky <3 With a small side plate of sort of little shit Spencer because of course he is. Also a brief mention of moon sex. Idk what that dream says about Hotch… someone psychoanalyse this man in the comments pls xxxx

Sunday Morning (E)

Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Established Relationships, Morning Sex

* * * * * * * * * *

The dream finds himself slowly waking from was a pleasurable one, where he’d gently been fucking his boyfriend. It had been on the moon, but neither of them really seemed to mind. Aaron’s just about to roll over and see if he can convince Spencer to make that dream real- well, without the moon part- when he realises that he can still feel something on his cock.

Not just something. A mouth.

One quick glance to the side confirms it all. Spencer’s not in his usual position; his pillow is dented slightly and the covers on his side of the bed have been pushed back.

He feels the mouth on his cock swallow him down deeper, making him gasp. Slowly, Aaron moves the duvet aside, revealing a wild-haired Spencer with a look in his eyes that suggests a self-satisfied smirk.

“Good morning,” Aaron murmurs.

Spencer hums, moving his head up and deliberately swirling his tongue around Aaron’s tip in the way he knows drives him crazy.

This, Aaron decides, must be the sort of life that Roman Emperors used to lead. Waking up gently to a beautifully practiced mouth on them in a comfortable bed, instead of having to get up at 5am to solve some horrific case across the country. He wouldn’t mind getting used to this.

Spencer doesn’t seem as though he’d mind either, as he picks up his pace enthusiastically, watching the way Aaron’s chest shakes and tenses as he groans. He always enjoys giving head, loves how he can make Aaron fall apart so quickly, and this morning is clearly no different.

When Spencer starts to pick up his pace, hollowing his cheeks as he continues, Aaron twists one hand into the sheets with a low moan. Perhaps it’s the element of surprise, but he seems to be far closer than he usually would. Spencer, of course, knows every one of his movements intimately, has them all catalogued in his mind. He’s clearly proud of himself as he looks up at his partner, slowly blinking in a near-perfect mime of innocence as he takes in the way he’s managing to ruin his partner.

“God- you’re too good at this-'' Aaron gasps. There’s some vague notion of stubbornness makes him want to try and hold on a little longer, but then Spencer somehow manages to intensify it with every movement, and that fleeting idea becomes impossible. He doesn’t need to warn Spencer that he’s about to cum; Aaron knows that it can be read in every flicker of his face.

Besides, it’s not like Spencer ever pulled off. Today, of course, is no exception.

Once Aaron’s finished, throwing his head back on the pillow with a sigh, Spencer sits back up, wiping his mouth with a smile.

“Good morning to you too. That’s got to be better than an alarm clock, hasn’t it?”

[delimeful]

mere monstrosity (4)

warnings: misunderstandings/assumptions, dehumanization, threats, janus being kind of a prick, fearplay, mentions of head injuries/brain damage, lmk if i forgot any

-

Roman reeled back as the hand slammed down in front of him.

Like a campfire doused by a bucket of icewater, his fury was entirely flattened by the bone-chilling realization that he was facing not one, but two humans, far away from the walls, any possible escape, or his brother.

Oh, god. Remus.

He might have still been alive back there, there might have been something that could have been done to help him, and Roman would never know because he’d let his anger overtake his sense. Now, dead or alive, he wouldn’t ever get to see his brother again.

A spark of his earlier fury rose from the ashes at the thought, and he raised his pin in the general direction of the two humans towering over him.

“I’d take on any number of opponents if it meant striking down that monster,” he spat, pretending that the tremble running down his arm was due to rage alone. “Willing or not, justice must be dealt!”

The humans exchanged a glance, neither looking remotely threatened, and then the one with the mismatched eyes leaned forward, still wearing that smile that looked more like a flashing of teeth.

“I think you and I must have very different ideas of what constitutes ‘justice’,” he said, and then moved, quick and sharp like a snake striking.

Roman jerked back, but the length of his pin remained held firmly in place by the human’s two pinched fingers.

“For one, most courts aren’t allowed to rule a defendant guilty and have them executed by needlepoint.”

Too occupied trying to wrest his only weapon free, he didn’t even see the human’s other hand sweeping in until gloved fingers were already wrapping around him.

He was plucked off the ground as easily as a hawk catching a mouse, and the instant his grasp loosened, his pin was pulled right out of his hands. “No!”

There wasn’t even time to mourn the loss of a blade that had been by his side for years. He had bigger problems. Literally.

“If you’re truly a proponent of vigilante justice performed by the powerful, though, I’m sure you won’t mind me stepping in,” one of the problems in question said. “After all, if you can pick and choose an opponent to murder at will, why can’t I?”

The words were accompanied by a slight, pointed tightening of the hand around him, and Roman’s gasping breaths started to sound a lot more like squeaks of alarm.

“Janus, cut it out. You’re gonna give him a heart attack,” a relatively small voice cut in.

He followed the sound to see it was the monster, now carefully cradled in the hand of the nerd-looking human. It was rubbing wearily at its eye in a surprisingly humanlike gesture.

“As opposed to the vital organ stabbing he tried to give you?” Janus replied, but his grip returned to firm instead of constricting. “What if we hadn’t been here? You’re lucky Logan is so predictable.”

Finding no success in his attempts to wriggle free, Roman paused and tried to wrap his head around the arrangement before him. The humans were listening to it, even chatting with it like a friend.

“What is all this supposed to be?” he asked incredulously, gesturing to the entire tableau. “That’s a spider monster! Humans don’t even like regular spiders in their homes!”

The spider-creature flattened itself slightly against the human’s hand, fiddling with the edges of its tiny cloak with a scowl on its face.

“To the contrary,” the human with glasses started, “most non-aggressive spider species are considered harmless and even beneficial to a household, due to the bugs they catch and their general avoidance of human contact.”

Roman stared pointedly at where the spider was literally being held by a human nerd at that very moment.

It shrugged, the motion barely visibly with how hunched its shoulders already were. “Extenuating circumstances. I wanted to not get stabbed more than I wanted to avoid contact.”

“Careful, Virgil. It almost sounds like you like us or something,” Janus teased, his smile softening into something less sharp and more wry when he was looking at the creature.

“You got me, I like you guys more than being stabbed,” it replied dryly, gaze still flickering over to Roman every few seconds. “Congrats.”

The nerd human cleared his throat, speaking over the smug, over-exaggerated ‘awww’ sound Janus was making.

“While I’m normally happy to take time to affirm our friendship, I feel like maybe we should focus on the matter at hand,” he said, turning the phrase literal by lifting the hand he was carrying the monster in and then inclining his head at the hand Janus had Roman trapped in.

“Ah, right,” Janus gave Roman a look normally reserved for gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe. “What are we going to do about this one.”

He tilted his hand back and let his fingers go loose, giving Roman more breathing room but also leaving him feeling like a tipped over beetle with its legs flailing in the air.

Never one to miss an opportunity, Roman twisted and managed to flip himself over and get all the way to his hands and knees before a thumb was pressed against his back, pinning him back in place idly.

“He had a point earlier,” the words were accompanied by a slight increase of pressure along his spine, “we humans really don’t like household pests.”

“Janus, enough already.” Shockingly, the monster came to his defense again. “It’s not even his fault, it was just a stupid misunderstanding.”

“You were almost murdered over a misunderstanding?” Janus replied, disbelieving. “Okay, but that’s worse. You do see how that’s worse, right?”

Roman was almost with the human on this one, though his disagreement was far more furious than bewildered.

“There was no misunderstanding,” he hissed, his voice coming out slightly wheezing from all the air that had just gotten squashed out of his lungs. “You killed my brother, you monster! You were going to eat him!”

There was a long beat of silence after his accusation rang out. Then, all at once:

“I was under the impression that your diet primarily consisted of insects? Would you even be capable of envenomating a creature of this size?”

“If you killed a guy and went to Logan instead of me for help with hiding the body, I will literally never forgive you—,”

“Oh, that is so not true, I didn’t even touch him until he’d already knocked himself out! He’s not even dead, but if he was, it would not be on me, okay?!”

Even amidst the overlapping chatter, Roman’s mind locked on to the only statement that mattered.

“He’s alive?” he asked, his voice cracking painfully mid-word.

Everyone went quiet, and Janus’s grip pulled away, allowing him to push himself back up to a sitting position without a word. Roman didn’t try to flee, only watched the monster and waited for the rug to be yanked out from under his feet, for the cackling laughter and glee that he had fallen for it.

“Yeah, man, I’m pretty sure,” the monster— Virgil said, scuffing a hand through his hair exhaustedly. “He was still breathing okay when I pulled him up, at least, he’s just got an awful knot on the back of his head. Probably has a concussion or something?”

Above him, Logan frowned in concern. “In that case, he certainly shouldn’t be left alone out there. I’ll go get out the first aid kit, if you can retrieve him?”

Roman felt a brand new wave of fear wash through him, urgent and sharp after the dull ache of grief.

So, that was why the humans were so fond of the monster, so accommodating to him. A spider-sized monster was no match for a human, but if he got on their good side by bringing them gifts, the rare, valuable kind that they had no reliable way of getting themselves… That was a different story.

There weren’t any other borrowers here, despite the signs in the walls of some living there before. Roman thought he knew why, now.

And like an idiot, he’d walked himself and Remus right into the lion’s den.

Except Remus was out of reach, and there was only one being here who could change that.

Roman stared at Virgil imploringly, a silent plea for mercy for his brother.

Virgil swallowed and averted his gaze, hunching over in something like guilt or shame. “Yeah, I’ll, uh. Yeah. Be back in a few.”

He scurried over to the wall without looking back once, and Roman curled in on himself, despair heavy on his shoulders.

—

Virgil was trying really hard to hate the guy who had almost skewered him an hour ago, but it was turning out to be more difficult than expected.

The moment he’d learned that his brother was still alive, the borrower’s demeanor had taken a full heel-turn. He’d stopped struggling, looked somehow even paler than before, and kept casting these desperate, almost pained glances at Virgil.

Look, he got it, okay. Nobody liked being abruptly under the gaze of a couple of humans, especially not when those humans had been actively antagonistic to them for their entire first meeting. He wasn’t happy about the situation either!

Still, he wasn’t the one who had made the decision to follow someone out into the open and keep trying to stab them to death where anyone could see.

He’d groused about it to himself the entire way through the walls, where he found the guy’s brother exactly where he’d left him, thankfully still breathing.

It hadn’t taken him long to drag the borrower to an exit, and he’d entrusted the stranger to Logan’s exceedingly gentle care immediately.

Janus had raised an amused eyebrow at the sight of how much webbing was tangled around the guy’s body. “Suddenly, I see where the ‘eating him’ assumption must have come from.”

“Ha ha,” Virgil replied flatly. “He tripped.”

Still sitting in Janus’s hand, the borrower didn’t say anything, just wrapped his arms around himself miserably, eyes locked on Logan’s back.

He continued not to say anything until the two of them were left relatively alone— Logan was entirely preoccupied with crafting a sterile wound pad into tiny bandages, and after the excitement had died down, Janus had reluctantly returned to his room and the assignment he’d abandoned.

(He’d given Virgil a look that meant there would be questions later, as though Logan hadn’t already been all but buzzing with curiosity from the start. Virgil decided he’d stress about that bridge when he got to it.)

Both of them were on the counter, but where Virgil was pacing back and forth directly on the marble, the stranger had been set in a wide-brim glass bowl to prevent any further surprise murder attempts.

Virgil didn’t feel great about it, especially not with how the guy had folded in on himself mere moments after taking in his surroundings, but he felt worse about the very real possibility that he’d be attacked again.

The tense silence was growing to almost painful levels of awkward, though.

“He’s gonna be fine,” Virgil finally said, because Logan looked intent but not scary laser-focused, which meant the head injury wasn’t lethal.

The borrower shot him a truly scathing glare, and Virgil skittered back a few steps automatically before returning the look twofold.

“What?” he snapped, keeping his voice low. “I told you I’m not the one who hurt him, okay?! I had no part in his quest for brain damage!”

“I know that! You’re just the one who brought him here,” the stranger whispered back viciously. “To humans.”

It was probably a reasonable reaction, especially given that Janus had been giving him the cat-who-just-caught-the-canary treatment, but it still wasn’t fair to blame Virgil. He hadn’t orchestrated the nightmarish situation, for goodness’s sake!

“It’s not like I meant for this to happen!” He dragged his hood up, trying to hide the agitated flush of his ears. “I thought it was just your brother, okay? I didn’t know there were two of you.”

If he’d known, he would have at least consulted with the guy before dragging his concussed brother out of the walls to get treatment from someone who was, by all appearances, a borrower’s worst nightmare. Even if it made his stomach twist to imagine them rejecting any help when it was partially thanks to him that the idiot had been so distracted in the first place, that was still their right to refuse.

Hell, he could have even feigned a minor head injury and asked Logan for supplies or advice! The three of them could have treated the injury without exposing the brothers to inquisitive, overprotective humans at all.

“Two of us?” the borrower echoed, his scowl abruptly lessening. “You thought it was just Remus?”

“Yeah, and you gave me basically zero time to explain before getting all stabby, so.” Virgil shrugged once. “It’s not like I wanted to bring him here, but he’s injured. I wasn’t going to just leave him to croak in the walls.”

The borrower was just staring at him now, his face creased with a complicated expression.

“You being here is your own fault,” he said, a tad defensively.

He got another dirty look for that, but it quickly faded into something almost contemplative.

There was another long stretch of silence, before Logan stepped over to let them know he was going to check the closet for more supplies. He looked to Virgil in silent question: will you be okay, left unattended?

The stranger shuffled back in the bowl, apprehensive, but Virgil only nodded.

It was hard to feel afraid of the guy when Virgil was 80% sure he was currently trying to work out the logistics of a tiny icepack for Remus.

A few seconds later, they were alone. The stranger turned to Virgil immediately, opening and closing his mouth a few times before finally speaking.

“Remus is injured,” he started, speaking slowly as though carefully choosing each word. “He probably won’t be able to endure for long if he’s under a lot of stress.”

That… wasn’t really the impression Virgil had gotten from the few minutes of interaction they’d had, but whatever.

“Logan’s really good with boundaries,” he offered. “I can make sure he doesn’t overstep. I know I’m… me, but your brother seemed surprisingly willing to give me a chance, so.”

“Of course he did,” the stranger muttered under his breath. “Look, if you only meant to bring one, you’re going to want the one that will… will last longer, right? That’s me.”

Virgil blinked several times, trying to connect the dots of that particular statement. “...What?”

The borrower turned to face him fully, scooting as close as the curved glass would allow, his gaze locked on Virgil.

“Get Remus out of here. I’ll stay, and the humans can do whatever they want to me, okay? Just let Remus go.” The stranger pressed a hand against the glass of the bowl. “I’m begging you. On my honor, I’ll do whatever you want, just–!”

“They’re not keeping you,” Virgil interrupted, feeling a little nauseated as the full implications of the plea sunk in. “Do you really think I’d be willing to stay here if they did that? Did you really think I would have brought you both here if they did that?!”

“I– I don’t know!” the stranger spluttered, recoiling slightly. “I don’t know you, maybe! You said you only meant to bring one borrower, what else would that mean if not–,”

“I meant if I’d known you were there, I would have dragged your idiot brother to you first, instead of going and getting help from the humans because I know literally nothing about medicine!” Virgil was clutching at his hair, now, astounded at the turn this had taken.

“Just waltzing out of the walls to hang out with humans goes against like every borrower rule ever, how was I supposed to know–,” the stranger cut off sharply as Logan walked back into the room, body going stiff as the human’s eyes flicked over to them briefly. Virgil released his hair and stuck his hands back in his pocket with faux casualness.

He took a few deeps breaths, and waited until Logan had returned to his tinkering to resume their conversation, now in a mutter.

“The humans do actually want to help, and I personally don’t want to watch your concussed brother fall off another beam and actually die this time, so would you at least give it a chance?” He studied the stranger’s unconvinced face and sighed. “If you really don’t feel safe after a day or two, I’ll help you and Remus sneak out myself, okay? On my honor, or whatever.”

“... Fine.”