#the Barbie card looks as fake as possible for the giggles

[restingdomface]

Wei Wuxian: *using a Barbie credit card to line up coke*

Jiang Cheng: Your husband literally has centurion, and you’re making coke lines with /that/?

Wei Wuxian: This is his centurion. I put a Barbie skin on it.

Jiang Cheng: *turns to LWJ* You let him put a Barbie skin on a centurion? Why??

Lan Wangji: He’s very pretty.

Wei Wuxian: Yeah. I’m very pretty. I asked him while I was on his di-

Jiang Cheng: *screaming and shoving a hand over his mouth, realizes he doesn’t know where it’s been, takes it back* I hate you both with all my heart, I hope you know that.

[youarejesting]

Hope In The Sheets.8

[Masterlist]

Beta: N/A Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Genre: Friendship, Comedy, Soft boy, Fluff, SMUT, Friends2Lovers, Words: 2.9k

Summary: You held many titles: his neighbor, colleague, wing-man… well, more likely a wing-woman, yet most importantly, you were his best friend. You had been friends since you were born. Between the two of you, you were younger; barely, but he never let you forget it. He always seemed to ruffle your hair and tease you, which could get rather annoying but he made up for it by treating you to things.

What if a drunken one night stand between you and your best friend Hoseok leads to more complicated situations? Your reckless twenties are cut short as you find yourself suddenly responsible for something a little more.

Warning: Braxton hicks, Reader thinks she is being followed (but is mistaken), and a love making scene very short and sweet.

[First] [Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]

With your final month of pregnancy approaching you were finally ready to take your maternity leave. Deciding to continue working for as long as you could to save some money. The boss was getting super weird but you were holding your tongue and making up excuses to leave his presence.

Your last day was a little extravagant with cake and a card signed by your colleagues. The boss gave you a bouquet of flowers, which you graciously accepted as it was your last day. Everyone took photos and your boss awkwardly pulled you close, his hand resting on your belly.

Irritation growing, you wanted nothing more than to push his hand away and leave. The scent of his cologne made you feel a little sick and you were unbelievably sweaty. Excusing yourself to the safety of the women's bathroom you splashed your neck with some cool water. 

Calling Jimin you whispered, “I need you to come pick me up, the boss is being weird again.”

“I am near by, give me a few minutes I will get you,” Jimin’s sweet voice rang like tiny chimes through the phone.

You waited another couple of minutes and heard your name called from the hall, “Y/n?, are you okay in there?” It was your creepy boss.

“Sorry, I am just having a hot flash so I am splashing water on my neck,” You laughed, trying to appear casual and not cause him any reason to suspect you are in distress as you would bet he would barge in otherwise, “I will be out soon.”

Your phone chimed.

[Jimin: We are in the elevator grab your things for a quick escape.]

Curious as to who he was referring to as ‘we’ but not questioning it, he was right you should get ready to leave as quickly as possible. Heading out to the gathering of your colleagues, you smiled fanning yourself.

“Here is some ice water,” One of the women smiled, “I remember when I was pregnant it was unbearably hot.”

“Thanks,” You took a drink and sighed happily at the cool liquid, standing in front of your bag, the flowers and card. The elevator doors opened to reveal a well dressed Jimin and a rather handsome man you recognized from the bar. Jungkook’s best friend, Taehyung was it? You smiled at the two as they smiled greeting everyone. “Hello, we are Y/n’s friends, I'm Jimin and this is Taehyung. We have come to pick her up.” Jimin looked around the room and his eyes lit up, “wow you are all so nice a party and everything.” 

Jimin charmed the room easily and Taehyung wasn’t doing too badly either as he took the flowers and your bag. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Ah yes, I wouldn’t mind going home for a rest,” allowing the two young men to lead you towards the elevator, “Goodbye, I will hopefully see you when I am back from leave.”

They all waved and wished you good luck, and you didn’t miss the disappointed look on your boss' face. Your shoulders slumped as you leaned against the wall of the elevator, “I am so tired.”

“We will get you home soon,” Jimin smiled, rubbing your back and pulling you into a hug.

“Should we reschedule?” Taehyung said, “Or, I can um pay again, if you don’t mind waiting for a few weeks, I will save up enough money for another date.”

Jimin was at a loss for words. You knew he didn’t know what to say and you smiled, “Hey no, I will be home soon, just drop me off and go back to Jimin’s, he has a cinema room and you can order in and watch movies.”

“Yeah, we can do that.” Jimin smiled, reassuringly at Taehyung,

“Half a movie, I can only afford half a movie,” He mumbled downtrodden. Jimin wet his lips feeling awkward, he hadn��t dated anyone who wasn’t loaded with cash in a long time. 

“Jimin has a rule that if he can’t make a date the next one is half price,” you took the art of improv to a whole new level, “he couldn’t make your date and it had to be rescheduled, right? So, this one is half price so you can get twice the amount of time.”

“Yeah, she is right so we can hang out a little longer.” Jimin bit his lip looking at the young man and seeing the small smile pull up on his lips. “So let’s drop the tiny mama off and go watch a movie.”

“Ok,” Taehyung smiled, you watched the two, nervous like a highschool crush developing between two students. The two graciously dropped them off and Jimin walked you to the door.

“You are smitten!” You grinned, teasing him lightly watching his blush grow. Your eyes catching Taehyung fixing his hair in the passenger seat drop down mirror. “You have never been nervous in your life, and he is so sweet.”

“I have been with rich men here and there looking for a date or a night, but I have never had someone scraping together their money to spend just a little time with me, making handmade gifts because that's all they can do.” Jimin was clutching his heart, and you finally found the key for the front door. “When he tells me I am pretty, or that he loves my voice, it’s different. I know those CEO’s had wives, but when he says it, I feel special like I am the only one in the world he says it too.”

“So what’s the problem?” You asked, letting Jimin walk you inside with all your items. “You have a lot of savings and investment properties, you could live off that money very easily.”

“How can I see him when he thinks he has to pay me all the time?” Jimin mumbled, walking back to the front door. “I don’t want him to go bankrupt because he thinks he can’t afford my rates”

“I heard at the bar that he like photography. Tell him you want a photoshoot but you don’t know a good photographer who you feel comfortable with.” You hugged and an idea struck. “Say you can’t decide on a concept and offer him a few different ones you want to try. He has been asked to submit his work into an exhibition. I think the theme was nightlife.”

“Nightlife.”

“It’s up for interpretation, but who has a more busy nightlife than you, and I am not talking about going out on the town. A sensual at home photoshoot of you in a sheet or a naked silhouette overlooking the night city.”

“Oh that could be fun, I could be part of an exhibition” he giggled, “I will ask him.”

Jimin hugged you again for safe measure and ran off to his van and climbed inside.

You waved shutting the door and heading to the fridge hoping some cold yoghurt would soothe your overheated form, whilst also feeding your almost insatiable hunger.

Opening the fridge, you saw the last of your yoghurt at the back, bending slightly you felt a twinge in your back and as you straightened up, Yoghurt in your hand as you were overcome with a tightness in your stomach. Was this a contraction?

You were two weeks out from your due date so it wasn’t unusual for people to have their babies early. You pulled out your phone calling for an ambulance and trying to breathe calmly.

[Y/n: I think I am in labor, and you’re the only one who is free today.] [DJSuga: Like really or that time you ate too much rice too quickly and got indigestion?] [Y/n: I just called the ambulance.] [DJSuga: I will meet you at the hospital let me know what ward you are in when you know.]

“Hello, I am looking for Miss Y/n.” Yoongi’s voice carried across the hall from the nurses desk to your room. “I would describe her as pregnant but it wouldn’t help.”

“Wow, you are very descriptive. You really have no words to describe me Yoongi? I am offended.” You pouted walking out into the hall, “Let’s go home.”

“What I thought you were popping out a baby today?” he said confused, “If you say it was constipation or something stupid I will hit you upside the head.”

“Well, it wasn’t that.” You blushed, “It was braxton hicks?”

“Who?” he blanked, utterly confused, “What are you talking about?”

“It means fake labor, like a test run.”

“Can you stop with the test runs, I don’t think my body can take it anymore?” Yoongi held his back waddling down the hallway making you giggle. “Come on, I saw a restaurant for lamb skewers and I have been craving it since.”

“You are acting more like a pregnant woman than I am.”

Walking out the front of the hospital you were bombarded by Jin, Jungkook, Namjoon, and a disheveled Jimin with Taehyung. You didn’t realize how your eyes looked for Hoseok, until you didn’t find him. The crushing feeling in your chest made you frown slightly.

“False alarm.” Yoongi muttered, “Apparently Barbie Hacks or something, we are getting lamb skewers. Come on, I hear Jin is paying.”

Hoseok arrived at the Bar and saw that no one was around, the place was locked up with a sign announcing that it was closed for the night. It was strange Jin didn’t ever believe in taking days off, even when he was sick he would be in his office resting.

He called Jin’s phone and heard laughter, “I will be back” Jin's voice called. Hoseok could hear Namjoon, Jimin and Yoongi talking about something adamantly. Had they planned something without him.

“Hey Hoseok, what do you need?”

“Your bar is closed?” Hoseok mumbled, “I was wondering what you are all doing?”

“Y/n went to the hospital because she was getting contractions but they turned out to be Braxton hicks, so we are having lamb skewers on Yoongi’s request.”

“Why did no one tell me?” Hoseok felt a little sick that his friends were hanging out without him and there was a strange pull in his chest knowing that he wasn’t there at the hospital. 

“I didn’t think we had to, seeing as you are not the father of any children.” Jin repeated his words back to him, “We aren’t picking sides but you made it clear you didn’t want to be a part of the child's life. So we didn’t want to force you to be there.”

“I never said that I didn’t want to be a part!” Hoseok shouted down the phone, “Urgh, this is fucked.”

With a sigh Jin grew deadly serious, “she was scared out of her mind today, she thought she was going to have to give birth alone, you have to talk to her.”

“I said some stupid shit, Jin. I don’t know how to fix this.” Hoseok pulled at his hair and started heading to your house, hoping that perhaps the two of you could talk this out before he ended up losing you.

He had so much that he wanted to say and get mad about, he wasn’t ready to forgive you but he wasn’t ready to let you go either.

You were dropped off at Hoseok’s apartment, the one you had lived in together before everything went wrong. Touching your rounded tummy you knew that this child wasn’t a mistake and apologized out loud for even implying anything of the sorts. Taking the stairs to the second floor you arrived at his door.

Knock knock.

“Hoseok are you home?” You called, taking the key from your keychain you peaked inside to see the lights were off. You sat for a moment but he didn’t come home and it was getting a little dark. 

Heading out you locked up and walked along the road. You put a headphone in and pretended to be in a conversation. Speeding up slightly as you passed the men sitting on the steps of one of the stores that had closed up for the night. The men were laughing about something and you scurried along. 

Sighing in relief when you went to cross the street, looking both ways you caught sight of figures following you. Were the men following you? What did they want? Thoughts were circling in your head as the adrenaline started to kick in. Dialing hoseok you crossed the road.

“Hello, Y/n?” Hoseok said “I wanted to-”

“Hoseok, there are men following me” you whispered.

“Where are you?” He asked, sounding concerned, which gave you a flash of hope that he would protect you like he always did.

“I am on our street, I am heading to Yuta, I need to go somewhere public.” You replied walking briskly.

“Keep walking, I'm on my way.” You heard the sound of an engine and you knew everything would be okay. Hoseok wouldn’t let you get hurt.

“Don’t hang up, they are still following.” Picking up your speed you noticed they had started to walk a little more briskly. “I sped up and they did too, Hobi, I am really scared.”

“Don’t slow down, you got this little darling, I will be there soon.” Hoseok said with desperation in his voice. “I won’t leave you on your own anymore. I should have been there today. I should be with you now!”

A hand grabbed your shoulder and you screamed phone clattering onto the ground, “I am sorry miss, we called out but your headphones were in, you dropped your wallet.”

“Oh! Thank you so much, I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay, do you need help, can we escort you somewhere?” The other man asked. “There has been some break-ins recently so we have taken to watching the neighborhood.”

They walked you back towards Hoseok's and you sat with them as you spoke about what happened with Hoseok. Talking about how you stuffed up and lied to him. “You mean the really happy guy with the reddish hair? You two used to walk this street all the time. I knew you too liked each other,” they grinned

“So is it a little girl or boy?” One of the guys gestured to your belly. “Have you thought of any names?”

“A little girl and I have been thinking of some. Sun-Hee it just reminds me so much of her dad,” you hummed, a little nervous to hear their feedback, “does it sound silly?”

“It sounds beautiful.”

Looking up there was Hoseok panting and looking relieved to see you okay. Standing, you walked over to your longest friend, hoping he didn’t scold you. “Hoseok, I am sorry.”

He pulled you into a hug and buried his face in your neck, “I don’t care. I don’t care that you lied and kept this from me. I don’t care about any of that, let me be here for you. I will be by your side.”

You were crying, he took your face in his hands brushing your tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “Alright love birds, Kiss each other.”

Your cheeks were bright red, ready to laugh and tell the men it wasn’t like that when Hoseok pulled you forward. Pressing his lips to your's, he kissed you fiercely, his hands holding your waist and cradling your head. He tried to pull you closer when your belly bumped against him. He looked down and rubbed your belly gently, “I am sorry I wasn’t there but I am here now, and I am not leaving.”

“Let’s go home, Hobi.” You whispered, he thanked the men for taking care of you and led you to his van. He drove back to your house and walked you inside, shutting the door and taking off his shoes. The two of you sat on the couch.

“I guess you have a lot to talk about.” Hoseok said nervous and you swung your leg over his lap and kissed him. It was difficult to maneuver with your big belly, but you were too busy enjoying the feeling of his soft lips against yours.

“I want to remember this time,” you breathed against him. “Please let’s just pretend that one didn’t happen and try again.”

Hoseok laughed and lifted you carefully and carried you to the bedroom.

Hoseok was gentle and passionate; he teased you with his fingers and lavished you with his tongue. You had never had anything like this. Usually you were chasing a high with some guy you never had plans to call again, and that was on the rare occasion you were looking for sex. This made you feel overwhelmingly good, your heart was pounding. Every thrust brought with it a spark of energy. You clung to Hoseok as he lost himself in the sensations. 

He would open his eyes in moments of clarity and kiss you telling you how much he loved you. It wasn’t like jumping off the edge into pleasure; this was like waves that started small and built into a choppy tide never crashing upon you, just rocking you with pleasure. After the crescendo moment the waves began to ease back until it was the gentle waters lapping at the sand.

“Hobi,” you panted as he laid your head on his chest. He hummed encouraging you to continue. You took his hand and placed it onto your belly, “you remember two minutes ago when we had sex, well I think I fell pregnant.”

He laughed, throwing his head back into the pillow and leaned down kissing your belly, “I think you might be right!”

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[nomiliy]

The Devil’s Holed Up in Redcliffe

Darren Shan shot back the first half of his second Rob Roy. He had asked the bartender to pour boozy, be generous with the scotch, and cheap with the bitters.

But he wasn’t feeling a damn thing.

The night was still young by university and baby-alcoholic standards, but he desperately wished his tolerance was lower. Maybe then he’d forget the absolute hellscape this day had become.

He found himself in a musty corner booth of Seven Star Pub in Redcliffe. It was Saturday night, approximately 11:15 pm —peak pub crawl hours—and not even the bar’s basement lighting and thick, cancerous clouds of Newport smoke could hide his crumbling disposition. Smashed between grimy leather upholstery and Steve Leonard’s grimy leather jacket with barely legal freshers from Bristol University and Chelsea fans screaming their heads off over missed goals was not how Darren envisioned his Valentine’s eve.

But what can you do when the love of your life is an arsehole?

Honestly, Darren was more surprised by the fact that Tom Jones and Alan Morris even wanted to go out tonight. It made sense for Tom since this was the first Valentine’s in two years that he’d be alone. But Alan was so married to his studies at Bath University he barely had time for anything that wasn’t lizard scale samples.

But when the redhead texted Steve and Darren about cheering up their mate, Steve being the good friend he rarely is, answered for them—as if they didn’t already have plans!

Darren cursed Tommy’s superstar status. If not for Tom Jones, the four would have never gotten a table. But as the star goalie for Bath’s football club, Jones and company enjoyed pseudo-celebrity perks after rumor got round that Chelsea, Manchester United, and Tottenham were scouting him.

Darren wanted nothing more than to go home to their little flat and roll between the sheets with his handsome Jewish boyfriend. Instead, he sipped on weak cocktails and silently glared at said handsome prick.

Steve sat on the outside of the booth with his arm spread over the back. His legs mirrored the care-free stance and took up most of the real estate underneath the table as well. His face held a gentle flush that colored the top of his broad chest. He was already intoxicated; the fact that he chose stout drinks only hammed up his low tolerance.

Darren occasionally felt his thigh rub against his own, as if to say “sorry, babe” without having to out themselves to Tom and Alan. Or without having to apologize or admit he was a jerk.

Darren sat closer than he knew he should for public outings. He found himself, at times, resting his head atop a built arm or leaning into the partly open embrace despite Alan and Tom chatting across from them. But Seven Star was so crowded, and the February winds stuck to his bones in a perpetual chill. How could he not cuddle up with that platinum blond devil?

He told himself that the guys would think it a consequence of too many drinks, the cold, and the fact that Steve had virtually no sense of personal space.

With how Tom barreled through his third pint of Guinness and Alan nursing his watered-down rum and coke, he doubt they’d notice.

Darren and Steve had managed to keep their friends and family out of the loop for the past few years. Not by fear of rejection from the community at large, but more so by anything interrupting their routine. Steve was convinced that Alan and Tom wouldn’t treat them the same if they knew; they would tiptoe around the subject, give them glances every time they did something remotely ‘cute,’ buy them those stupid ‘His & His’ coffee cups and towels that Steve just loved to pitch a fit about every time they popped up in his recommended search history.

“Are you searching for this shit, Dare?!”

They had their fair share of rows, but whether to tell their friends was always an all-out battle. Usually, it would end with Steve storming out of the flat to cool off with a smoke. He’d come back after an hour or so, curl up with Darren in bed, and give a quick apology shag before passing out for the night. Honestly, it was a routine that Darren thoroughly enjoyed.

The platinum blond terror had calmed down quite a bit since they got together, mellowed by domestic bliss and brain-frying university life to cause much trouble. He didn’t throw things like when he was a teenager, he talked his feelings out (for the most part), him and his mum were on wonderful terms, and he kept up with his aggression therapy after all these years.

But Steve was still, as Officer Crawley put it, ‘a bloody menace.’

Now, Steve didn’t do anything to get himself arrested anymore (like attempted arson, public battery, and joyriding) but he was still a royal git. Which was particularly infuriating with Steve being so bloody charming. The way he belted Black Sabbath and Metallic in that crooning baritone on the train, how he didn’t give a rat’s arse about the sideways glances, how he re-enacted whole scenes of An American Werewolf in London right down to the American accent and blood-chilling howl in the dead of night stalking Kings Street.

Darren always thought Steve would’ve made a spectacular actor. He had the face, the smooth vocals that were damn sinful in Yiddish, the body—Lord, his pecs and arms!— a flair for melodramatics, a sharp grin, but yet a soft smile, a real smile that he’d toss over the kitchen counter while nuking a box of hot pockets at 3:00 A.M. or when he’d roll over in bed and pull Darren tight to his chest just to smile into his neck and grind his morning wood into—

“Think that girl’s got the look on you, Steve,” Alan noted over his straw before sucking down the last of his rum and coke.

Darren’s blood flared through his cheeks in a rolling boil. He didn’t even try to hide behind his jumper sleeve.

Tommy’s perked expression and sharp, goalie-box trained eyes revved on him. “Oi, what’s with the face, Darren?” he asked with some frothy head caught in his baby-stache.

His ex Sharona hated that fuzzy upper lip, but now that she was gone, Darren noted, Tommy let that, and a multitude of other things, slip. His ash-brown crew cut had gone shaggy along with his untrimmed whiskers. He reeked of the field, he developed dark bags under his eyes, and he never seemed to have a clean shirt.

Steve glanced at the flush on Darren’s cheeks, then made a clipped, rolling cackle low in his throat. His shoulder lazily bumped the black-haired Irishmen, and Darren just knew he was bloody smashed.

“That iron tolerance failing you, Shan?” Steve cackled again, losing nearly half of his third Old Fashion over the rim with each jerky sway. “Or you jealous?”

“Oh, definitely,” Darren snapped, “just positively green over here from all the jailbait they were too stupid to card drooling over your Jewish prick.”

“Deepest apologies, mate,” he grinned, “maybe while I’m shaggin’ one of ‘em you can swoop in and comfort their poor, cryin’ beaus with your arse.”

Darren went about nine shades of red ranging from ‘embarrassed’ to ‘furious.’

Then the absolute evil laugh that rumbled out of Steve’s chest added the shade murderous.

He saw Tom go red from secondhand embarrassment, and Alan wouldn’t make eye contact over the rim of his glass. On top of the guys not knowing about their relationship, they also had no idea that Steve wasn’t completely straight. Darren could gather what this looked like: Childhood best friends having a go at each other and one going way over the line. But if they knew what this was (a closeted bi-man hamming up his straight-schtick) then maybe they’d feel a bit of pity.

But all Darren could feel was rage.

“You’re sloshed, Steve,” Darren downed the last of his Rob Roy in a smooth toss. “Maybe you should slow down before you get yourself killed.”

“Think I’m a shot away from that,” Steve said with a shake of his now empty glass. “Hey,” he called over the throngs of people, “in the Megadeath jumper!”

The waitress, a thin woman with fake tits that could double as floaties when the breeze knocked her imbalanced arse into the Thames, glanced the boys’ way.

She nearly dropped.

Darren gave himself an aneurysm suppressing an eye roll. Yes, Stephen Ezekiel ‘The Leopard’ Leonard was bloody fit; get it together and take the damn order!

But he couldn’t really blame the girl. When a Jewish bad-boy with a shocked-blond undercut, two-day stubble, suped-up glamour muscles busting through a (lifted) leather jacket, and a deadly grin leers at you over several empty cocktails, what else can you do?

Frankly, despite the waitress having no fault in this, she was kindly welcome to go drop her arse on someone else’s boyfriend.

“Hi there, love,” his voice dropped another octave when the waitress slid between the booths.

She leaned over the table right into Steve. Her band jumper was torn up and distressed around the neck, letting her ample cleavage spill through and work for those extra fivers. Her name tag said ‘Gina,’ but the occult tattoos rolling up her arms in complete sleeves, splotchy dye-job, and vampy, silicone plumped lips screamed ‘Sex-Metal Barbie.’

“What can I get you, boys?” she asked out of politeness. Darren could see that her attention sparked only on Steve.

“Can I get another old fashion here? Still a bit thirsty,” he jingled the ice cubes in his glass with a wink.

Darren rolled his eyes, shoved his empty glass to the end of the booth, and willed the goth centerfold out of existence.

“An’ a Rob Roy for my mate here,” Steve quickly added, “Famous Grouse scotch, light on the vermouth, three black cherries.”

Gina giggled at the order, possibly finding the specificity endearing. “Wish my girlfriends knew me like that,” she said with an effortless smile. She wrote it down far too quickly on a loose napkin. “I’ll have those right out.”

When she stepped away, Darren saw her hand smooth over Steve’s shoulder.

He bristled at the sight. Her fingers gripped at the taut muscle, massaging the stress knots drilled in by his engineering course load.

Then she left the napkin there, right in front of Steve. Clear as day, for all the table to see, was her phone number and her name with a little heart over the ‘i’ in ‘Gina.’

Tom clapped his thick-bottomed glass on the table with rounded out laughter. “On the prowl already!”

Alan roused back up from his one-drink stupor, jostled his tragic bowl cut around looking for the waitress. “Did she take our drink order? I want another rum and coke,” he asked in a sleepy tilt, sprawling flat on top of the table once more.

Steve looked over the booth, and Darren just knew he was watching her walk away in those skin-tight jeans. But then, the blond tossed a sly smile to Tom and Alan. He slipped the digits right inside his jacket pocket then tapped it with a knowing look.

And that was the final straw for Darren Shan.

Read the rest on AO3~!

[spine-buster]

Defensive - Kenny Omega

@wrestlewriting @wrestlerecs @chasingeverybreakingwave @thegenericluchadora @fan-fiction-galore @ratherkissawookie @anerdysouthernbelle @spot-of-bother @flnnbalor @amaranthine-reign 

Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged in any of my future writing.  Hope you enjoy!

- - - 

You felt like Barbie, a smile permanently plastered on your face ever since your boyfriend, Kenny Omega, had come from Japan to spend a week with you. Despite the last few weeks being absolute torture for you mentally and physically because of your job, he was able to make everything better by just being there with you. You had no idea how he was able to pull his magic. You could tell that he knew something was off with you, but you hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t bring it up. You wanted this week to be as perfect as possible, especially for him, and you didn’t want your work troubles to surface during time with your boyfriend. 

 As you waited for him to finish ‘freshening up’ from an early morning workout at the hotel gym, you thought back to how this whole thing started. Being best friends with Sami Zayn had its perks, and one of them was that you got introduced to all his wrestler friends. Granted, some of them you didn’t click with as well as others, but there was something about that first trip you made out to Japan to watch him wrestle that would always make it your favourite trip you ever made: that’s where you met Kenny. All those years ago, you still remember how you first laid eyes on him as he stood at Narita International Airport, waiting for you and Sami with a homemade sign that read “Generico and amiga”. 

 Since you clicked with Kenny so well, you two had kept in contact after that initial trip, and the two other trips you made to Japan to watch Sami wrestle were filled with appearances by Kenny, which only made you happier. Nights out at restaurants and karaoke bars, day trips to shrines and other tourist attractions – it was all filled with harmless flirting. But then at dinners, you would notice Kenny sitting as close to you as possible; his hands would linger a bit too long on yours when he showed you how to work an arcade game properly. It wasn’t until late 2014, when Kenny was back home for the holidays, that you two finally agreed to start dating. You remembered how he surprised you like it was yesterday. 

- - - 

 You could feel the fatigue running through your body as you approached the doors of the hotel with your best friend Rami, lugging your suitcase behind you. Rami, ever polite, held the door open for you, and you thanked him quietly before walking together through the lobby towards the elevators. 

 You pressed the button to go up at least five times before thinking it was enough. Rami was looking at you; you knew that because he had just wrestled he was full of energy, but he didn’t show it. You wished you could keep up with his energy, but sometimes, it was just too much. Like tonight. 

 “You gonna go straight to bed?” Sami asked, noticing how tired you looked as the two of you stepped out of the elevator. 

 “Probably. We have an early morning tomorrow, right?” 

 “If you consider 9am early,” he smiled, knowing how much you liked to sleep. “You want me to call you to wake you up?” 

 “No, it’s okay. I’ll just set the alarm on my phone,” you said, waving him off. 

Sami looked at you for a few moments. “Yeah, I’m gonna give you a call,” he said sarcastically. “And if you don’t answer after three tries, I’ll come and bust down your door.” 

You smiled at his sarcastic tone but appreciated his sentiment. You really did like your sleep, and with your job at WWE (which he helped you land), you didn’t get much of it. “That’s probably a good idea,” you laughed as you approached your hotel room door. He was staying only a few rooms down. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Please get some sleep – don’t be up all night watching Forensic Files.” 

As you opened the door with your key card, you lazily plopped your purse down on the floor before slipping off your shoes. Walking into your hotel room and towards your bed, you gasped loudly when you saw a figure sitting on your bed. You almost screamed bloody murder; in your shock it took you half a second longer than usual to realize the mop of messy curls you knew all too well. “KENNY!” 

He smiled his toothy grin as he stood up from the bed, extending his arms to hug you. You sprinted to him and practically jumped on him, having not seen him in person for four months, at least. He tried his best to stabilize the two of you after your momentum almost knocked him over, but he let gravity do it’s job and plopped down on the bed, still holding you tightly in his lap. “What are you doing here?!” 

“I came for a visit,” he said, like it was completely normal to travel thousands of miles on an apparent whim. 

 “And you didn’t tell anybody?” His smile turned mischievous. 

 “I told Sami,” he revealed. 

You furrowed your eyebrows comically, giggling at the same time. “I’m going to kill that boy,” you mumbled. 

 “You know Kenny, you staying in the same hotel as some WWE superstars is gonna raise some eyebrows on the dirtsheets.” 

“Don’t worry. I wore a pair of Groucho Marx glasses with the fake nose. Nobody saw me,” he smiled at you, biting on his lower lip as he looked down at yours. 

You were acutely aware that his arms were still wrapped around you tightly, that he looked so cute with his curls and that grin, and that you were straddling him. And then it hit you that you were probably causing him pain – here you were sitting on his lap, and you knew he had bad knees. “Oh! Kenny! Your knees! I must be hurting your knees!” you looked between your bodies. 

 “No no, I’m fine. You’re fine. Stay here,” he assured you, not letting up his grip. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“I’m positive. Stay right where you are.” 

It was your turn to bite your lip as you looked back into his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re here, Kenny. I’m so happy.” 

“I’m happy I’m here, too. Why didn’t you come to Japan last month?” he asked. 

“They didn’t need me,” you shrugged your shoulders. “If I had still gone I would have had to pay out of my own pocket, and we all know the big bucks I get paid,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes. 

“You should have told me. I would have paid for your flight,” Kenny said. 

“Kennnyyyyyy,” you squirmed at his words in his lap. “No way. I would never do that to you.” 

“I would have done it,” he said, bringing one of his hands up to caress your cheek. His thumb grazed over your lips momentarily. “I missed you so much.” 

“I missed you too,” you let out, barely above a whisper. There was a moment of silence between the two of you, where all you did was look into each other’s eyes, trying to say things that you weren’t saying out loud. When Kenny leaned in and kissed you, you felt an electric jolt run through your body; you wondered if Kenny felt the same. When he pulled away, it almost felt like, to you, he was restraining himself from going further. The silence was deafening until Kenny began to say what he wanted to say. “You know I adore you, right?” 

You nodded your head. 

“I mean it. I adore you. I think about you all the time and I…I feel things for you that I’ve never felt for anyone before, or anything…well, besides wrestling,” he continued. You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “I know this is wishful thinking, a shot in the dark, whatever…especially since I’m in Japan and you’re here, but I can’t let you go. I just can’t. I want us to be together, and --” 

 You didn’t let him finish. Selfishly, all you wanted to do was kiss him, and that’s exactly what you did. You hoped that answer would suffice. 

- - - 

Every time you thought of that night, it sent shivers down your spine. You and Kenny went four rounds that night – four – and you woke up to Kenny’s head between your thighs, eating you out like you were the last meal on earth. You had no clue where all his stamina came from, but you weren’t complaining. That man could go. Every time felt like the best of your life. He wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t rough, but he was passionate, and thorough, whispering sweet nothings and dirty things to you as you came over and over again before he finally got his release. You wondered how you got so lucky. 

 Despite being half the world away from each other, Kenny was completely devoted to you, and you to him. You would try to fly out to Japan to see him as much as possible, schedule and money permitting, even though Kenny would end up paying for most of your flights. After that fateful holiday break, things really blew up for Kenny, and you couldn’t be happier for him. That meant, of course, that he was busier than ever, but you managed to make it work. It was hard, and sometime stressful, especially trying to co-ordinate schedules, but it was all worth it. 

 “You ready to go, sweetie?” Kenny’s voice interrupted you from your thoughts. 

You looked over to see him finally emerging from the washroom, his hair still damp. “Mhm,” you nodded your head, double-checking to make sure you had everything in your purse. 

 You didn’t see Kenny furrow his eyebrows at your somewhat lackluster reaction. “Hey, before we go…can I talk to you about something?” he asked suddenly. You took the time to look at him. 

 “About what?” 

He walked over to the bed, sitting down beside you before deciding to speak again. “It’s just…you’ve been acting funny ever since I got back. What’s up?” 

Fuck. You really, really didn’t want him to bring it up. “Everything’s fine, Kenny.” 

“Don’t lie to me, please,” he said, grabbing your hands and holding them in his. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

 You sighed, knowing you were never going to be able to get out of this now. “If I tell you do you promise not to get mad and freak out?” 

 “I can’t promise anything. Something is eating you up inside and I need to know what it is.” 

 “Kenny, please.” 

 “Just tell me what’s wrong.” 

 So you did. You told him about the incident at work early last week. 

- - -

 You liked things better when people didn’t know you were dating Kenny Omega. Nobody wanted anything back then. Nobody asked anything from you. They just expected you to do your job – which you did. 

 A fan had posted a picture of the two of you somewhere holding hands, and the internet started to go crazy. You had managed to keep it a secret for two and a half years, and one shitty picture from an iPhone managed to ruin it all. Now that more people were catching on, they wanted something from you. They wanted to know how your relationship was going, how it was surviving despite you living on different continents. It was none of their business. You made it work. You had made it work for almost three years now. 

 As you went about your work backstage at Smackdown, you turned a corner to find Dolph Ziggler and JBL talking to each other. Dolph looked over to you mid-sentence, a grin forming on his face. “Well well, look who it is! Mrs. Six Star Match Man! Or is it still Miss?” he jeered. 

 “Have you thought about ideas for your promo yet?” you asked, ignoring his remark and trying to do your job. 

 “Mrs. Six Star Match Man? What does that mean?” JBL asked, looking between you and Dolph, confused at Dolph’s comments. 

 “John, didn’t you hear?” Dolph pointed to you. “She’s Kenny’s Omega’s girlfriend.” 

 JBL’s jaw practically hit the floor as he slammed down his broadcasting notes on a nearby speakerbox. “You’re the woman that can get us to Kenny Omega?” he asked in disbelief, giving you the complete up-down. 

 He’d never noticed you before – you were just another backstage worker to him – but now he really saw you for the first time. Without even knowing how it felt, you immediately liked it better when you were anonymous to him. You weren’t exactly sure what he meant by what he said, but his tone was rubbing you the wrong way. “I don’t know what you mean,” you said, your voice small and lacking confidence. 

 From beside him, Dolph chuckled. “I know right? You’d think that any girlfriend of Kenny Omega would be much hotter, being an international wrestling sensation and all,” he took another dig at you. 

 Your breath caught in your throat as you realized what this was turning in to. You wanted absolutely no part in it, but there was no way out. You stayed silent as JBL and Dolph laughed at your expense, in fear that whatever you said could be held against you one day. JBL especially had way more influence than you did, and God knows what would happen to you if you spoke out of turn towards him. 

 “So let me get this straight…you’re an employee of this company, and you’ve been dating Omega, and you haven’t thought once to use your influence on him to get him to come here?” JBL asked as if it was the most obvious thing for you to. You couldn’t believe what he was insinuating you do. 

 “I --” 

 “Well I’m telling you now, you’ve gotta get him to come here. I can’t believe nobody made it a priority to get you to do that yet!” his words were harsh. “If you want to be good at your job – hell, if you want to save your relationship, isn’t it best if he’s here, not there? How can you people be so stupid?” 

 You felt your cheeks getting hot, and you couldn’t find it in you to say anything, which only caused him to fill the void with his own voice even more. “Now that we know it’s of the utmost importance that he gets over here. You could be fired if he doesn’t. God damn it, you’re like the best insurance policy we have!” 

 An insurance policy. That’s all that you were to him – an insurance policy to get Kenny to sign with the WWE. Good to know nothing else you ever did for the company would be lauded in the same way. 

 “I will personally see that you’re working to get him here. How could this have gone on for so long? We need to use you to get to him, do you understand? That’s your role now,” he continued. 

 You’d had enough at this point. “Can I go now?” you asked, your voice shaking slightly. You didn’t know how much more you could take. 

 “You understand, right girl?” 

He didn’t even call you by your fucking name. That fucking prick. “One hundred percent,” you said quickly, turning around to leave, not bothering to stay to hear what else he or Dolph had to say. 

 - - -

 Kenny let you speak without interruption as he looked between you and the floor. He was unnaturally quiet. Even after you finished telling him everything, he was still eerily quiet. You wondered what exactly was going through his head. Were you overthinking this? Was it really not as big of a deal as you thought? 

“Kenny? Are you going to say something?” you asked timidly, squeezing his hand. 

 He looked at you, finally, and it was clear to you that he was angry. Livid. “I’m going to beat the shit out of that motherfucker,” he mumbled through gritted teeth. 

 “Kenny --” 

 He jumped off the bed and started walking towards the door. His body was practically shaking with anger at this point. He was absolutely disgusted. You imagined that the scene played out in his head as you told it to him, and it was obvious that he was repulsed that two people would act in such a way towards you. “Kenny, where are you going?” you asked frantically. 

 “I’m going to find those motherfuckers and I’m killing both of them. I can’t take it.” 

 “No!” you shouted, tugging at his arm, which was proving useless. You managed to manoeuvre your body so that you were between him and the door. “Kenny, stop. Don’t. Don’t do it,” you said sternly. 

 “Stop it?!” Kenny demanded of you. “This isn’t okay. This is far from okay. Those fucking assholes think they can say that shit about you and get away with it?! Call you an insurance policy?! Not on my fucking watch!” 

 “Kenny, please,” you brought your hands up to his face. You could tell he was trying to compose himself, looking desperately into your eyes. “They’re pathetic. They both are. It’s that simple. But you don’t need to go after them.” 

“You’re telling me you don’t want me to kick their ass for what they said to you?” he asked sternly, although his voice was much calmer than it was moments before. 

 “It would be pretty awesome, actually,” you giggled slightly, and you saw him become noticeably calmer once you laughed. “But it’s not worth it. Trust me.” 

He took a few deep breaths. “I think it’s worth it. You’re worth it.” 

 “I know I am,” you wiggled your eyebrows jokingly, causing a small smile to break out on Kenny’s face. “But I’m telling you, you don’t need to do anything. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.” 

 “Did you tell anyone else?” 

 “Sami knows about it. He says he’d talk to Hunter about it since he’s one of his NXT sons,” you explained, and Kenny nodded his head. “Now, can we please go explore the city like tourists and forget about all this? I just want to have a good time with you.” 

 “Not without a kiss first,” he said, puckering his lips. You stood on your tippy toes to kiss him before opening the hotel room door, ready to embark on the day with your boyfriend. 

 - - - 

 Only about a month later, you were bottled up in your hotel room late at night, trying to get work done, when your phone started buzzing beside you. You looked over to see Sami’s name across the screen. 

 Did you tell Kenny about the thing that happened with Ziggler and JBL? 

 You thought that was an odd question to ask out of the blue. Yeah, I told him when he visited a few weeks back. Why? 

 You might want to check Twitter. 

 You gulped. You immediately opened up your web browser and went to Kenny’s Twitter profile to see what he had done. And boy, had he done something. You read over the Twitter exchange with a fan and the multiple messages he answered with. 

 @wweomegafanx: Kenny seriously buddy get signed to wwe its not like demott n other ppl are there anymore u would change the company! America needs u! 

@KennyOmegamanX: a lot of people think I have a problem with the higher ups or the locker room culture. I don't. I respect them, plus I've endured worse. 

@KennyOmegamanX: It's how they treat some of their backstage personnel. Everyone at that company works hard, backstage runners included - they deserve respect 

 @KennyOmegamanX: When a wannabe cowboy announcer calls my girlfriend an 'insurance policy' to get me over there, I take very big issue with that. 

@KennyOmegamanX: When a beach blonde wannabe me tells her he thinks she would be 'hotter' because she's dating me – I take issue with that. It's disgusting. 

 @KennyOmegamanX: Until that culture changes you'll never see me step foot in that company. Japan is way too good to me for me to deal with that. 

@KennyOmegamanX: And yes, I do have a girlfriend that works there. She's done more for creative that those two idiots have ever done. Especially the cowboy 

 You were pretty sure your jaw hit the floor. Before you could process what you just read, your phone started to ring. On the screen, Triple H’s name was flashing back at you. 

 Oooooooooh boy.