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lokiswifeduh · 5 months ago

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Doll, please

Pairings- Mob!Bucky x Fem!reader

Summary- Bucky is taken by the reader's ex-boyfriend. You go to save him, not knowing it was a trap.

Warnings- crime, violence, mention of drugs, angst, minor fluff, character being shot, cussing, torture, graphic violence.

WC- 2.6k

masterlist

James was taken, that was definite. The reason was still unknown. Of course, many people had motives. He runs the city. Being the head of organized crime. He had eyes and ears everywhere. He moved drugs and was the owner of most clubs, restaurants, and companies.

His only weakness is you.

However, Rumlow didn't take you. He took Bucky. You knew that for sure.

"Steve, please tell me you know a location. Something, anything?" The blonde looks down at the computer, wanting to give you some form of information. But comes up with nothing.

"I'm sorry, we still don't have anything."

You groan, putting your head in your hands and groaning.

"Boss' tracker went dark before he made it across the bridge into Brooklyn." Sam walks in, throwing the last known location that was printed down onto the table.

Your head perked up, running over to look over the information. "So let's go check it out." But Steve shakes his head, "No." "Why not?!"

He moves forward, getting slightly in your face. "Because that bridge has over five thousand people on it hourly." He throws the paper out of your hands and into the trash bin next to the door. "Buck may be missing but damn it I will not endanger you in any way in his absence." "But Steve-" "No!!" He shouts, making you flinch slightly. "You stay put where it's safe until we know why and or how he was taken." You let out a long breath, "Fuck this." Taking long strides you run out of the room and to your and Bucky's shared bedroom.

"Watch her." Steve mumbles, making Sam nod.

There was protocol, you knew that. If there was ever a reason why Bucky couldn't run things, Steve was the one who was appointed to take over. But just as Bucky would have it, Steve would never put you in danger. Which made it harder for you to help.

Or Steve would think.

You paced in your shared room, trying to think of ways you could leave, a way you could find your husband. You fiddled with the diamond ring on your finger when suddenly your phone pinged with a text.

You ran over to your bed, grabbing your phone with both hands.

CALL THIS NUMBER IF YOU WANT YOUR HUSBAND BACK ALIVE

You went to the dial pad, dialing in the number with shaky hands and pressing call. It rang four times before picking up. All you heard was silence before you spoke, "Hello, James?"

"Not James, sweetheart." Your heart stopped as you heard the voice of your ex. Brock.

"W-where is he? Is he okay? Is he safe?"

Brock chuckled, requesting to Facetime, to which you accepted; facing the camera up in an attempt to conceal your face.

He switched the camera around, revealing a dark and bloody room, focusing on some steel tools before he panned over to Bucky.

The state of your husband shocked you, making you almost drop the phone. "James?" His face was bloody, cuts and scratches tore his cheeks and jawbone.

His wrists were red, blood dripping from them as the wire that held him down cut into his skin. a knife was sticking out of his thigh, and his chest was adorned with deep lacerations that even you could tell needed stitches.

"Doll?" He lifted his head. His blue eyes had lost the sparkle they had not only a day ago as he looked into the camera.

"Hi love," Tears streamed down your face as you looked at how much damage and torture he had been put through. "I'm so sorry. I promise we're gonna come find you okay? I promise." You hiccuped, sobbing as you watched him grimace in pain.

"Baby don't come. Send Steve. Please, don't come-"

Your husband was silenced with a punch as you yelped. "Stop! Brock, please." The video was taken off of Bucky and went back to Brock. You could still hear him groaning in pain in the background as your ex-boyfriend smirked.

"I'll let him go. But I need you to do one thing for me princess." You gulped, hearing Bucky scream and protest as loud as he could in the back.

"What?" Brock punched Bucky one more time, silencing him.

That only brought more tears to your eyes as you gulped, seeing him give you an evil smile. "You, for him." "You want me?" "I will let Bucky go, as long as I have you in my possession."

You bit your lip, thinking it over. Wondering about how you would even get away. But in the back of your mind, the schematics didn't matter. All that mattered was Bucky being free, even if that meant sacrificing yourself for it.

"Where do I meet you?"

You once again could hear Bucky protesting in the back but tried to keep a straight face while looking at Brock. He smiled again, "At the corner of East 96th and Park." You gulped, realizing how close that was. Brock must've known where your and Bucky's shared home was.

"And you promise you'll let Bucky go right?"

Brock nodded, "For old times sake princess."

You thought it over for a moment, before wiping the still wet tears on your cheeks. "What time?" "You'll meet my men over there in an hour and they'll drive you to the location." "No," You shook your head. "My husband gets dropped off before I even think about going with you." "Ahhh," Brock sighs, turning the camera back to Bucky before landing yet another hit against his already bleeding cheek. "That's not how this is gonna work, sweetheart."

"Okay! Stop!" You screamed, "I'll be there in an hour. Just please don't hurt him anymore."

"Sounds like a deal." Brock sneered, ending the Facetime.

You broke down, falling to your knees on Bucky's side of the bed, clawing onto the covers. You could still smell the faint scent of your husband. The musky pine and balsam were almost gone as you laid on his side all night, crying yourself to sleep.

You had to do this. Steve and Sam were no closer to finding or retrieving him. And you knew they wouldn't let you go alone, or go at all. You just had to find a way to sneak out without anyone noticing.

Thankfully you still had an escape route from when the house was being targeted by HYDRA's men and you needed to get out for your own sanity.

You realized you had been crying, staring at the framed picture of you and Bucky on your wedding day. Looking over at the clock, it was almost time to meet Rumlow.

You slipped on some black leggings, putting on a long-sleeved black shirt and a jacket. Opening Bucky's nightstand drawer, you grabbed the Glock he kept in there and two hand knives.

Slipping one knife into the holster under your shirt and the other one in your boot. Finally hiding the Glock in the back of your pants under the jacket.

Now all you had to do was slip out without Sam, Steve, or any of Bucky's men seeing you. You knew Steve had for sure put you on lockdown.

You opened your door, seeing one guy turn the corner at the end of the hall. You stealthy moved, closing your door behind you, and walked to the other end of the hall, opening the usually locked door to the armory.

Thank god Steve had unlocked it earlier when they thought they had a location.

Moving to the computer in the corner, you disabled the cameras that were placed on your and Bucky's bedroom door. Shifting over you scooted one of the gun racks out of the way, trying not to make too much noise as it revealed a hidden door behind.

You silently thanked Bucky's mom for making an escape door in the brownstone.

Unhooking the latches from the door, you slipped inside the small space and closed it behind you, carefully descending down the ladder. You jumped to the bottom, opening a door to the alley.

The steam from the subway got in your face as you locked the door behind you, blocking your view. You felt a hard hit on the back of your head as you fell to the ground on your knees. You touched the back of your head, feeling the sticky blood on your fingers.

Another hit made you fall all the way down as you rolled over, looking at who your attacker was. "N-Natasha?"

"Night night...doll." One final hit to your skull and everything went black.

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

The first thing you felt was restraints holding your wrists down. Pounding in your head made you not want to open your eyes. But you could swear you heard someone yelling your name.

Lifting your head with as much strength as you could muster you wearily did, squinting.

"Bucky?" You mumbled, still out of it.

"Doll? Wake up, honey. You gotta look at me."

You opened your eyes more, seeing a bloody, tied-up Bucky in front of you. "James!" You tried to stand up but as you did wire cut into your wrists and ankles. "Ah!" You screamed in agony as you looked down at your wrists which were starting to bleed.

"Doll, don't move, okay? It only makes it worse." Your eyes shot back up to Bucky.

"Are you okay? Where is Brock?"

Bucky shook his head, "He hasn't been in since they brought you in here." "Natasha. She hit me in the head." You remembered, wincing.

"I know," Bucky groaned, "I'm gonna fucking kill her for betraying me." You felt your head pound again, making you groan in pain once again.

"What hurts, baby?" Looking Bucky in his eyes, you saw the worry and guilt he held for this. "It's okay. I'm okay." But he could see the pain your body held. Blood dripped down your neck from the back of your head. An open wound was still bleeding on your forehead, and your chest heaved up and down as you tried not to cry. He vowed to protect you and here you were, tied down and bleeding.

"I swear, I will get us out of here, doll. I promise." Bucky gave you the best smile he could when suddenly the door opened. Revealing Brock, and the traitorous redhead behind him.

You kept your head high, not showing your distaste as Rumlow grabbed the front of your neck with his hand, bringing his mouth to the shell of your ear.

Bucky however did, pulling on his restraints which only made blood drip from his wrists more. "Touch her again and I'll have your fucking head, Rumlow."

Bucky's threat only made Brock laugh as he removed his hand from your flesh, allowing you to take a much-needed breath.

"This is how this is gonna go, Barnes." Rumlow walked over to a table, picked up a pair of pliers, and walked back over to Natasha, handing the rusty tool to her.

"You're gonna tell me the codes to that locked safe you have in Moscow. You know the one."

Bucky gritted his teeth, watching how Natasha pulled up a chair, playing with your hand which was still tightly wired down.

"Or what?"

Brock looks over to Natasha, giving her a nod. The redhead puts the head of the pliers on your index finger, pulling it backward, slowly ripping your fingernail back; eliciting a guttural scream from your throat.

"Stop!!" Bucky screamed, but the torture continued. Blood poured from your finger as you pulled and tried to twist away. "Okay! Stop! I'll tell you anything! Stop!!"

The rusty metal was released from your hand as tears streamed down your face.

Rumlow pulled another chair up, sitting in between you and Bucky. "Now that wasn't so hard was it?"

Bucky's brows furrowed in concern, looking only at you. "Doll, I'm so sorry."

You shook your head, "It's not your fault, Buck."

"So, what are the codes?" Rumlow looked over to your husband as Natasha slipped iron knuckles onto her hand. "Don't tell him." You groaned out, knowing Bucky would lose everything he'd built if he gave that information away.

"Shut up!!" Natasha screamed, slamming her fist into your face, the iron weapon hitting your cheekbone and nose, causing your head to whip to the side. You screamed, more tears coming to your eyes as blood started to pour from your nose.

"Stop!" Bucky screamed, "She doesn't know anything! She doesn't have anything to do with this!!" "Oh, but you do." Brock stood, walking behind you and maneuvering your face to look right at your husband. Your chest heaved as you couldn't breathe from your nose without blinding pain. Blood dripped into your mouth and your right hand trembled.

"And this lovely specimen is your only weakness."

Bucky shook his head, "I'll give you everything, just let her go."

But Brock tutted, also shaking his head in disappointment, "I need collateral, Barnes."

"You won't get anything out of me if you hurt her."

Rumlow laughed, "Oh, I bet I will." Moving out of the way, Natasha stroked your face three more times with the weapon, knocking you unconscious.

A tear slipped down Bucky's cheek, "Please, stop. You can have everything." He pleaded, not being able to take his eyes off your beaten and broken body. A sob escaped his chest. He hadn't cried since the day of your wedding, and this was breaking him to his core.

Rumlow moved the chair in front of Bucky. "What's the code."

Bucky gulped, "The code.." He sighed, closing his eyes, "It's her birthday." Opening his eyes, he glared at Rumlow. "It's her birthday." Brock grinned evilly, "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" Standing up, he threw the chair to the side, moving over to you and cutting all your restraints off.

You fell to the floor, startling you awake. However you didn't move, your body not being able to gather the strength.

"I gave you the codes, Rumlow! Let her go!" Brock turned back, Natasha and him both standing at the door. "You really think I would let you both out of here alive?" His head pulled back as he laughed. "Not a chance, Barnes." Natasha opened the door, and ten men walked through all with guns, lining up in a row. "This city is mine now."

Closing the door behind him and Natasha, a loud speaker squeaked. "You have thirty seconds to say your goodbyes before the firing squad shoots you both to pieces."

Bucky gulped in fear, not noticing you lifting your boot to grab the knife that was inside.

"Doll, you gotta get up!" Bucky shouted, watching you struggle to pull yourself to stand. The ten men readied their weapons, aiming at you and Bucky. You were surrounded.

Finally, you pulled your body up, hobbling over to him with the knife as you tried to cut the wire from his wrists. "You gotta get out of here, doll." You shook your head, "I'm not leaving you." Tears streamed down your face, hearing Rumlow count down. "I won't"

"Doll, please." Looking up at Bucky finally, you let out a sob you had been holding. Ten seconds left.

"I vowed to stay by your side, Buck." Looking back, ten guns pointed at you. You knew what you had to do. "Doll?"

You dropped the knife, straddling Bucky's lap in the chair, wrapping your arms around his neck, and protecting his vital organs with your body. "NO! Doll, please!!"

The men cocked their guns. "Doll!! Stop!! Get up!!"

You shook your head. "I won't let you die!!"

Suddenly bullets rang through the air, but you kept your head down, your body shook into Bucky's as you felt two bullets hit. You screamed, still attempting to hold onto your husband. Bucky sobbed, "Don't do this to me." You looked up, shakily holding his face in your hands, "I love you, James Barnes." Blood dripped from your mouth, "Till forever and always." "Doll, please."

Everything went black.

Fin

part two

masterlist

#buckybarnes #fanfic #bucky angst #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #fanfiction #oneshot #bucky imagine #one shot #light angst #angst with a sad ending #avengers #fluff #james bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mafia!bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #husband!bucky

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evilminji · 3 months ago

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You know? I kinda wonder...

In a Self Insert type scenario, in Star Wars?

They would be MUCH more open to listening to "buddy, a storm's comin'" type warnings. Their Cannon knowledge, even if spotty, would probably echo with the Force and draw its attention to them somewhat. Because they KNOW.

KNOW what is going to happen. Not guess. Not assume. KNOW. Like the Force does. And that? Coupled with their inherent strangeness? Would make them the oddly colored duck of the flock, as it were. Not Super Important... buuuut? Easy to spot.

One of the Force's Blorbos.

Just cause, really. Cause they look funny. The Force doesn't even have a plan for um! But they turned up, ate the Force's food, and look at their wittle faaaace~☆! So it's keeping them. You know... assuming they survive.

Which?

Brings me to my point?

Since they LISTEN? The Force probably chatters like a mofo. Since a Self Insert would be anxious and constantly ASKING for wisdom. For help. A friend. Guidance of any kind. The Force would be draped around them like a particularly pleased with itself shoulder cat. A hovering backseat driver.

Because you DO keep asking, after all.

It's like muscle memory. Building strength. Not... not GREAT, in all actuality? Because Self Insert is avoiding making their OWN choices, probably out of fear? But on the OTHER hand? Both of them KNOW that there is literally a Sith Master like... less then 5 minutes away from where they live. Constantly.

And they are a Youngling.

So???

At What Point?? Does the Force? Engage "Fuck it, we take our baby and run" protocols?

Just? FULL ON "you stop midway through making your dinner, turn off the soup, pick up your kids, leave the house, and NEVER LOOK BACK". Because? Yes. The Jedi KNIGHTS and MASTERS may have vows to try and protect the people of the Republic?

BUT THE YOUNGLINGS DO NOT.

They, in fact, need to be PROTECTED.

And if the Force itself? Says "if you stay here, they WILL die."? You gotta go. Hopefully? You have enough warning to like... pack a ship. But, ya might NOT. Might just be "aaaand, everybody put down your pads! Suprise field trip to Anywhere Else! IMMEDIATELY. Single file, younglings. No running!" Like?

What would you do?

I kinda wanna see it.

Just this somber, vaguely haunted, crechling walking up to import figures like Madam Nu and Yoda going "if I tell you The Force told me we have to take the younglings, ALL OF THEM, and any history we think is worth preserving, and LEAVE... would you listen? Or would you let us die here?" With their tiny lil face and to serious expression.

Like a prophet of Doom.

And WHERE? Exactly? Are they supposed to go? Oh, simple. They are to Trust In The Force. And let it guide them. Out IN THE UNKNOWN REGIONS of wild space! Because THATS fine! Is this a joke?

No.

No the youngling is dead serious. Terrifyingly serious. Has been studying how to pilot a shop like they will have to do so THEMSELF. Asking questions that paint a concerning portrait of a child that fully intends to take their peers on this journey, with or without them.

And the Force? The Force says they MUST. That it is impossibly important they DO.

WELL THEN....

Do they... TELL anybody?

No. Not a single soul. Specifically, not a single soul In The Senate. Ah. Concerning! Guess we're? "Losing" a ship in the war? Oh dear. Such casualties. All those lives. Oh noooooo, and such and so forth. UNRELATED note! It's been FAR too long since this temple was cleaned! Unacceptable. You, random clones definitely not assigned to that ship we definitely just lost! Help us... clean!

Just?

The power of "fuck it, we took our ball and went home/left"? Should be USED more in fics. The Force TOTALLY knows where some sweet, sweet habitable planets are. You'll NEVER fuckin find them if they don't want you too! An entire temple of Jedi asking for the SAME thing? Versus a crusty lil shit?

They asked first. And nicely!

With THIS, balance is maintained. Not through FORCE. But through walking away for a bit. Allowing OTHERS to decide if this is what THEY want for themselves. Order 66 may or may not still happen? But? At most? All you would kill is the current fighting adults. Not the teachers. Not the elders. And CERTAINLY not the young.

They? Are far away. Where the Force is still clear and the light is strong. Growing up. Reflecting on what went wrong. Farming. Building a new temple with the Clones. You know, the ones who didn't have their comms. Never GOT that dreaded order. Get to live free men on a peaceful planet.

Cause historically? You send your kids AWAY from active wars zones. Places that are priority targets for your enemies. And if the Force itself is saying "move the babies"? Welp! Guess you gotta move um, don't ya? It's scary. Uncertain.

But it is an act of faith.

And I just? Wanna see Sith's plans just COMPLETELY fuckin implode? Because they could not plan for Faith. For Trust and Community and Hope. All the things they believe so trite. So worthless. The very things that would lead grown adults, POWERFUL PEOPLE, to actually? LISTEN to a mere youngling. Then follow their lead.

It would be?

Inconceivable to them.

@legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @hypewinter @babbling-babull @hdgnj @starwarsblr @starwars

#star wars #star wars prompt #minji's writing #the clone wars #fuck it we leaving #youngling exodus au #lol you thought you could out play The Force #Palpatine you fool #does The Force work like this?#maybe!#i am still learning

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alley-cc · 1 month ago

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Plus-Sized Reader

Notes: F!Reader, 18+ MDNI

Mandatory Attendance. Two words that Simon hates. He can tolerate a lot of things. He can endure the type of pain that would break the toughest soldiers in the world. He can endure sleep deprivation, dehydration and starvation. He's been trained to do so. After all, he's one of the best.

However, a large downside to being one of the best meant he was expected to make appearances. The government had a knack for throwing extravagant parties and celebrations over the smallest achievements. Celebrations that he, for whatever stupid reason, had to attend.

To his luck, all of his teammates were occupied on the field. Price and Gaz had been sent away to Russia. Johnny had volunteered to assist the first-year cadets with their basic training out on the field. He knows Johnny volunteered to help out so he can chase around the broad he has his eye on. He has to admit, she's a looker. She's another highly respected sergeant who follows protocol to the letter. Another pretty girl who Johnny will ruin in the best way.

His eyes flicker around the venue. He resists the urge to pull at his shirt collar and loosen the tie that threatens to cut off his air supply. It's another thing he finds himself hating. His ceremonial uniform. The thick fabric makes his skin itch uncomfortably, he pushes the feelings of claustrophobia from his mind. It's a later problem to deal with. The only thing that gives him some sort of relief is the fact that free booze is supplied.

He notes that he can slip out the side door and the venue. Easy and simple. A cigarette is already in his fingertips as he makes his way towards his escape route. He pushes himself past a man he never bothered to remember the name of, just the fact that He couldn't stand the bloke.

His attention is drawn away from his self-set mission when he catches a flash of light in his peripherals. His head immediately swivels towards the source of his distraction. Bloody photographers. You.

Your face is hidden away behind a camera, his eyes immediately drifting down your plush body. A modest black dress hides most of your form from him, leaving everything to his imagination. He can imagine how you'd react to him slipping his hand under that dress, following the curve of your body to find your sweet spots. He wants to hear you squeak, mewl and come undone for him. What a soft sweet thing you are.

He finally catches your gaze when you lower the camera. Eyes wide and round cheeks crimson red, you know you've been caught by him. "Didn't think I'd have to avoid getting shot at here," Simon grunts out. You let out an uneasy laugh, sputtering words to explain yourself, "I'm working with the organiser, I can delete it if you want.".

Oh, you sweet soft thing. So quick to accommodate his wants. He wants you, that is one thing for certain. He already knows he's going to do whatever he needs to in order to have you. You'd done your makeup so nicely too, pity to ruin it before the night ends. But god, the idea of the sight of you with mascara running down your cheeks and the sounds of your pleasure excites him.

Your cheeks burn a bright red as you struggle to explain yourself. He shakes his head "Don't bother." he orders. He can practically see the anxiousness coming off you. Eyes darting around the room as you look for your own escape route like he had done just before.

"You new?" Simon asks, he hadn't seen you at one of these events before. God knows he'd remember that pretty face if he did. You nod your head, the camera now resting at your hip and fingers fidgeting together. What he would do to see his baby on your hip instead. "It's my first paid event." you admit shyly.

He steps closer to you causing you to shink into yourself. You're clearly intimidated by him. Good. You should be. He really is a bad man at the end of the day. "I should go..." You mumble sweetly. He lets out a soft Tsk, "Stay." he commands. He can feel your uneasiness, but you do as he says. Obedient thing. He tilts his head to the side, hand ghosting over your hip as he takes the camera. He tugs on the camera strap draped across your body causing you to stumble towards him. Your face is only inches away from his chest now.

He presses all the buttons until he finds the one to show the images you've taken. His photo immediately appears on the screen. "Should know better than to take photos of people without consent." He scolds. You glance to the side, avoiding his eye contact. He lifts the camera, your own flash bliding you. You blink a few times, the cute look of surprise now immortalised on the screen in front of him. "Now we're even." He nods towards the image.

His gaze stays fixed on the image, it's slightly out of focus "I'm a better shot with a gun." he concludes with a shrug as he turns the screen towards you. You're quick to snatch the camera from him. Scrambling to compose yourself, half-finished sentences spilling from your lips. Your flustered state amuses him. He can tell you're more comfortable behind the camera instead of in front. He could help with that problem.

Ideas already forming in his mind of the nefarious things he wants to do to you in front of the lens. Your pleasure being forever encapsulated in pixels for him to enjoy over and over again. He could print them out for the missions that would keep him away for months. For nights he needed moral support. Really, you'd be doing a civic duty in his eyes. Supporting the troops in your own special way. Give him a reason to keep coming home. He knows his teammates would enjoy the view too.

He slips a business card that John had made him get for networking events into your hand. "Should consider shooting boudoir. We'd make an alright photo."

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This probs doesn't make sense but it was fun to write hehe

#cod modern warfare #cod mw3 #cod mwii #call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley cod #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #call of duty x reader

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asdfghjklmals · 1 year ago

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ACCIDENTS✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff, angst. no smut. mentions of pregnancy, sex, injury, blood, and abortion. suggestive comments. WORD COUNT: 4.5k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, boyfriend!gojo, pregnant!oc, established couple.

SYNOPSIS: during oc gojo girlfriend's yearly check up with shoko, she finds out she's pregnant. how will satoru act when he finds out? AUTHOR'S NOTE: i did make some changes to the beginning compared to the preview that i posted! thank you @mdnxghtjj for staying up late with me to try to make up scenarios on how oc gojo girlfriend would be pregnant by accident lol my google search probably thinks i'm the pregnant one. here is the official start to my version of dad!gojo and the official start to the baby gojo chronicles 🥹 REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions, instead please do!

your least favorite time of the year was when shoko had everyone visit her office for a yearly check up. that was a full examination for everyone.

“here, pee on this.” shoko handed you a pregnancy test. you looked at her with confusion written all over your face.

shoko saw your facial expression and reassured you, “it’s just part of the protocol, (y/n). would you rather pee in a cup? last time you told me you hate peeing in cups because you don't want to accidentally pee on your hands.”

“fine... it’s gonna be negative anyways.” you said confidently. you took the test from her hand reluctantly and went to the bathroom.

as shoko gave you a thorough examination, you couldn’t help but peer at the white and blue pregnancy test sitting in the corner next to the sink. it wasn’t your first time using one, but it was always strange taking one. especially for no reason.

"alright, you're done. have you been feeling better since you caught that cold?" shoko asked as you hopped off the examination able. she went back to the sink to remove her gloves and wash her hands. you had caught some horrible cold or stomach bug over a month ago, and it left you with fever, chills, and non-stop vomitting for weeks. you were so sick that you told satoru you wanted to write a will to leave everything to megumi and tsumiki because you didn't think you were going to make it.

“yeah. i haven’t been that sick in so long. i was vomitting like every other hour. satoru thought he was going to die when i wouldn’t let him sleep in our bed. he slept in tsumiki's old room for two weeks, poor guy. i didn't want him to catch whatever it was,” you chuckled at the thought of your 6’3” boyfriend sleeping in a baby pink decorated room.

“(y/n)…”

“yeah?” you turned to face shoko.

shoko asked you cautiously, “are you on birth control?”

suspicion filled your eyes as you peered at the amber-eyed doctor, “yeah, i’ve been on birth control since i was 21… why?”

“your pregnancy test came back positive.”

you stared at the digital screen. the words “pregnant” screamed at you inside your head. were you really pregnant? this was something you never thought would happen, at least not right now.

“that’s not possible, shoko.” you laughed nervously in disbelief.

“according to the test, you are.” shoko looked confused. as a doctor, she was determined to figure out how one of her bestfriends, who was on birth control, got pregnant. she studied your charts and medical records as she chewed on the tip of her pen.

you tried to retrace your footsteps for the past month. you had a very specific routine, and you took your birth control every morning after brushing your teeth and washing your face. your package of pills sat in your bathroom drawer just below the sink as your daily reminder to take your birth control.

shoko folded her arms and cleared her throat, “uhm, i hate to ask you this because i truly don’t want to know, but when was the first time you and gojo had sex after you got sick?”

you thought it was a strange question because wouldn’t shoko want to know when the most recent time you were intimate with satoru was?

“well…” you looked at her sheepishly, a face full of embarrassment, “we had sex right when my cold symptoms went away.” it would’ve been uncomfortable for your aching body, so you made satoru wait. and yes, he complained about it for two weeks.

shoko massaged her temples as she realized what the problem was, “god, (y/n). remember you were literally throwing up all the time when you were sick?”

your jaw dropped, “does that mean i threw up my birth control…?”

“that could’ve been the case, but if you throw up 1-2 hours after taking your birth control, your body might not have the chance to absorb it. your body was technically missing dosages since you were vomiting almost every day for a week…” shoko explained.

you stared at the doctor. your heart was racing and your mind had a million thoughts running through your head. you couldn’t believe that you were pregnant. there was just no way. as much as you and satoru joked about having kids, you knew deep down that satoru wasn’t ready. and you didn’t think he’d ever be. but you were okay with that. you had spent most of your young adult life raising two kids, so you felt like you weren't missing out on much.

“please, don’t tell satoru.” you quietly pleaded with shoko.

“don’t tell gojo-sensei what?” megumi asked from the office door. he dropped his backpack and his gym bag on the floor, walking towards you and shoko.

your eyes widened as you discreetly shifted the pregnancy test under your thigh, “hi kiddo, don’t tell gojo-sensei that i bought him his favorite kikufuku as a surprise.” that was a horrible lie, you're usually better than that.

shoko cleared her throat to try and change the subject, “hi megumi! you’re early for your exam.”

“yeah, i finished jujutsu practice early.” he replied back to shoko as he reverted his gaze back at you, “(y/n), what’s going on?”

“nothing, i just finished my exam. shoko says i’m as healthy as a horse!” you laughed nervously.

“you’re pregnant, aren’t you?” megumi asked you straightforwardly, “you were complaining about your boobs hurting the other day, you felt sick yesterday morning at breakfast, and you complained about being bloated at lunch today. not to mention, you’re always throwing up in my bathroom at home.”

you stopped to think about the symptoms that megumi just listed. you didn’t even consider that being pregnant was the reason why you were experiencing those symptoms. you always thought you were in the clear with those stupid tiny birth control pills.

you sighed, lifting your thigh to grab the pregnancy test. you showed it to megumi. “satoru doesn’t know… and we’re going to keep it that way.”

“why don’t you want to tell him?” he asked you, “are you guys fighting?”

“no, we're not fighting. this whole thing was an accident because of my cold last month... and to be honest, i don't know if your sensei even wants kids.” you smiled halfheartedly at megumi.

“i won’t say anything.” megumi promised. he couldn't imagine satoru gojo not wanting to reproduce and to have mini-satorus running around to terrorize the jujutsu world.

you warned him, “that means you can’t tell tsumiki either, i don’t want her to rush back home from her study abroad program just because of this.” (read 'wherever you are' here)

megumi reached his pinky out to you and you locked yours with his, both of you kissing your thumbs to seal the seal. he wrapped his arms around you in a warm hug. you needed that comfort right now.

“if i do the math, you’re about 5 weeks pregnant, (y/n).” shoko said, “so stop taking your birth control if you want to keep your baby.” megumi’s green eyes peered over at you, interested in what you had to say about that.

“what if i want to get an abortion…?” you asked quietly. megumi’s eyes now wide in horror. 'how could you even think about abortion?' he thought.

shoko sighed, “i think that’s something you should have a serious talk with gojo about. it would be unfair for him not to know.”

you weren’t sure if you should feel excited, nervous, or scared. you were excited because who wouldn’t want to have a child with the love of their life? you were nervous (and scared) because you didn’t know how satoru would react if you told him. you were scared because your unborn baby would be a target to all rival clans, inheriting all of yours and satoru’s enemies. not only that, but also a target for all intelligent curses as well.

later that night: the gojo/(l/n) household

“how was your yearly check up?” satoru asked as you poked at your medium rare steak that you probably shouldn’t be eating now that you were pregnant. he watched you as you rolled a roasted baby potato around your plate with your fork.

“it was fine. healthy as a horse.” you recycled your joke from this afternoon. satoru furrowed his brows, he sensed something was wrong. you were fine this morning, so what happened between the time you went to work and the time you got home?

“are you sure…?” he started to pry.

annoyance starting to rise in your tone. you kissed the back of your teeth, “i just don’t feel well… and the steak is too rare.” you lied. you always ate your steak medium rare. rareness did not bother you, the cow could still be mooing and you’d eat it.

“i can always put it back on the grill, babe. want it medium?”

“well-done, please.” you mumbled, “thanks, sweetheart.”

satoru picked up your plate, extremely confused on why all of a sudden you would eat a well-done steak. it was very unlike you. he kissed you on the cheek to try to ease whatever it was that was bugging you. you wanted to tell him so badly that you were pregnant. you never kept secrets from each other. you watched him slide on his slippers, opening the door to the patio with catoru following behind him. he slapped your steak on the grill again while looking out at the tokyo skyline.

during this time, you wondered what kind of father satoru would be. you imagined he would be the carefree type of dad. he would be the fun, loving, lenient father while you were the one to lay down the rules. that’s how it was when you were both raising megumi and tsumiki. your eyes started to well up with tears at the thought of satoru possibly becoming a father. was this the pregnancy hormones getting to you?

you quickly wiped your tears as satoru made his way back into the apartment with your steak. he closed the door behind him and sat down next to you at the dining table.

“why were you crying just barely?” he asked softly. he could sense your cursed energy wavering from the patio. he knew every mood you were in just because of how your cursed energy looked to his six eyes.

“i wasn’t crying,” you said adamantly, “my eyes were itchy.”

satoru understood that whatever was bothering you, you didn’t want to talk about it. normally, he would pry and pry until you would finally tell him what was wrong, but tonight, he felt that he shouldn’t. he cut your steak into bite-sized cubes for you, just like how you always did before you started eating.

you caressed his cheek with your hand, giving him a soft smile in appreciation.

“should we go get some ice cream with the kids tomorrow? i promise i’ll treat.” he asked, knowing that ice cream always made you feel better after a shitty day.

“yeah. i need that dairy-free double scoop of chocolate ice cream right now.” (read ‘seeing red’ here)

the next day

you had taken half a day off to meet satoru, nobara, yuji, and megumi in shibuya to grab the ice cream that satoru promised you last night. you and satoru walked next to each together as your spirit birds flew overhead. the students were following behind you with their ice cream cones.

“i still can’t believe gojo-sensei has been dating (y/n)-sensei for over 10 years.” nobara hissed at her two partners as she watched you and satoru walking together in front of them.

“why is it hard to believe? sensei is a pretty good looking dude.” yuji said nonchalantly.

megumi sighed and explained, “that’s not the point, itadori. the point is that (y/n)-sensei is way out of his league.”

“you seem pretty close to her, fushiguro.” yuji pointed out, noticing that megumi always defended you no matter what the topic was.

“i kinda owe her and gojo-sensei my life.” megumi grumbled, “they took me in when i was five.”

nobara looked at him, wide-eyed, “you mean… they adopted you when they were 18?! and (y/n)-sensei is basically like your mom?! oh my god! he needs to put a ring on her immediately for all he puts her through!”

megumi knew the reason why you two weren’t married yet. it was for your safety, not because gojo-sensei didn’t want to. he would’ve married you right after high school graduation if that was the case.

you giggled to yourself as you scooped chocolate ice cream to feed to satoru. he grabbed the spoon from you, licking it clean.

“their conversation is so funny.” you said to him.

“are you listening to them with your shikigami? you’re so nosy.” satoru playfully chastised you.

you called back your birds with your hand signal as they flew closer to you and satoru. they seemed to be flying happily as no danger was around. “your students are wondering why we aren’t married yet.”

“you already know why.” satoru put the spoon back into your ice cream.

“you don’t want to make me a target.” you recited back to him. satoru gojo believed that if you were to marry him, you would be a target and gain all his and the gojo clan’s enemies. that would make you the achilles' heel to the strongest sorcerer known to man.

“it’s not like people don’t know that we’re together.” you rolled your eyes, “i can take care of myself, satoru. i'm pretty sure the kamo clan is out for my head as we speak.” (read ‘love at first fight’ here)

“i know you can take care of yourself. i just think it’s safer this way.” he shrugged.

“but i want to have kids too. i’m not getting any younger.” you inserted, hoping he’d take the bait to talk about having kids.

“what are you talking about? we have two kids, megumi and tsumiki.” satoru said nonchalantly, you wanted to face palm your forehead to how oblivious he was.

digging deeper, you added, “i want kids with white hair and blue eyes running around.”

“hate to break it to you sweetheart, but they won’t be getting blue eyes. there can only be one six eyes in a lifetime, you already know that.”

“what about your white hair?” you tip-toed to ruffle his hair as he laughed, grabbing your hand.

“what about your black hair and beautiful green eyes that i love so much?” satoru grinned at you, “if you want, we can practice reproducing later tonight?”

you threw an ice shard at him, hitting his infinity. “no inappropriate jokes around the students, please.” you chastised him as he winked at you. you scooped another bite of ice cream into your mouth as you frowned.

“so feisty… i’m in for a world of trouble if our future kids ever get your attitude.”

“if that’s the case… you better get ready.” you muttered under your breath.

satoru didn’t hear your comment. “hmmm? what’d you say?” he asked.

“nothing, eat your ice cream.” you replied, quickly shoving another spoonful in his mouth.

"ouch, brain freeze." satoru grimaced.

one week later

time was ticking as the baby in your stomach was growing. you had to tell satoru you were pregnant.

your morning sickness was horrible. you didn’t want satoru to catch onto anything, so whenever you felt sick, you ran to the bathroom near megumi’s room across the apartment instead of your master bathroom. (see the apartment layout here)

“babe?” satoru found you in the guest bathroom, hurled over the toilet, dry heaving. “are you okay?” he crouched down to pull your hair back, “do we need to go see shoko?”

“no, it’s fine.” you pushed him away, “leave me alone, please. i don't want to you see me like this.”

“and why would i leave you alone? there's clearly something going on with your health again.” he comforted you, rubbing firm circles on your upper back.

after your morning sickness session in the bathroom subsided, you miserably dragged your feet back to your bathroom to brush your teeth. satoru leaned against the bathroom door frame, arms folded. you turned to face him.

“don’t you have a mission today?” you asked him, hoping that he'd leave soon.

“yeah, i do. but don’t change the subject. what is going on? are you sick?” satoru asked. the past week you had unintentionally become distant and avoided having deep conversations with him. he felt the cold shoulder from you emotionally and he hated it. he was starting to get fed up.

“no. i’m not sick.”

“do you have some type of terminal illness or something that you’re not telling me about?”

“no, satoru!” you scoffed in disbelief. he was so smart and cunning in battle, how could he not put 2+2 together for something as simple as this?

“do you want to break up with me? is that it? are you tired of me?” he asked quietly.

how could he ask you that after 10 years of putting up with him?

“no!!!” you shouted at him.

“then what is it, (y/n)?!” he finally snapped after a week of trying to be patient, “what are you hiding from me?” satoru’s voice raised an octave as he got more frustrated as the conversation was going nowhere.

you couldn’t handle it anymore. you clenched your fists, water started pouring out of the apartment faucets and showers from your raging cursed energy.

“i’m pregnant!” you shouted back at him.

satoru lifted his blindfold, his blue eyes widened, jaw dropped. it was as if time stood still for him. the only thing he could hear was the sound of your angry breathing and all the faucets flowing throughout the apartment.

“what…?” satoru whispered, “that can’t happen. you’re on birth control.”

“that’s what i thought too. but shoko confirmed it.” you told him as tears started to form on your long dark lashes.

“damn it… damn it. damn it!” satoru hissed. he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing off his blindfold and throwing it at the bathroom counter. “why didn’t you tell me?”

his reaction hurt your feelings, “because i didn’t know what your reaction would be and clearly you’re not happy about it.”

“how far along are you?” he asked, ignoring your comment. he walked towards you to stand beside you, putting his hand on top of yours. you flinched as you took your hand back to wipe your tears away.

“6 weeks. it’s early enough that i can get an abortion.” you sniffled.

“just… don’t make any decisions right now.” he said. it sounded like he was begging you, “we can talk more when i get back from this damn mission.”

satoru leaned towards you. he grabbed the side of your head to kiss your temple, “i love you, (y/n). i'm not mad at you.” he whispered.

satoru’s mission

it took everything in satoru not to leave you behind at the apartment alone after the way he reacted. why did he have to be assigned such a lowly mission? any of the students could’ve handled it, so why did it have to be him out of all people and out of all the days?

he teleported to shinagawa where it was reported that a curse was terrorizing an elementary school. it looked deserted when he arrived at the front gate.

satoru raised two fingers to put up a veil, “emerge from darkness, blacker still. purify that which is impure.”

he walked into the school, his six eyes sensing the curse right away. it couldn’t have been more than a grade 2 or 3. he heard a bloodcurdling scream, leading him to the gymnasium.

“please help!” a woman’s voice screamed and begged as the curse towered over her. satoru teleported in front of the woman and swiftly blasted the curse away with sheer force, exorcising it immediately.

“are you alright?” satoru turned to ask the woman. he stopped dead in his tracks.

she was pregnant.

“please sir, save my baby.” she begged as she was bleeding from her abdomen. her hands and arms shielding her womb protectively. the curse must’ve already injured her before satoru arrived. he kicked himself for his late arrival. he could’ve prevented this if he came earlier.

he lifted the injured woman in his arms, “don’t worry. i’ll save you. nothing will happen to you or your baby.” he promised as he teleported to the closest hospital.

tokyo shinagawa hospital

“it looks like the patient and her baby will be fine. she was close to full term. if she lost any more blood, her and the baby would’ve died.” the doctor reported back to satoru as ijichi stood next to him, documenting everything for the report that he would have to fill out later.

satoru was deep in thought about how this woman begged him to save her baby and not herself. it was the fact that she so selflessly put her baby first that really got to him.

he thought about you and what you would’ve done if you were in that woman’s shoes. he knew that you would protect your baby with your life because he would do the exact same thing. satoru felt his protective instinct skyrocket now more than ever.

satoru’s heart felt heavy. he immediately felt guilty knowing that you thought he didn't want to have kids and how hard this must have been for you the past week. he wanted to be there for you, but he was terrified of the unknown. would he be a good father? would he be able to protect this baby? and were you even happy being pregnant with his child?

“ijichi, can you take care of the rest? i have somewhere i need to be.” satoru asked impatiently.

ijichi complained, “are you sure you’re not just trying to pawn off your work to me?”

“there are two people who need me right now.” satoru waved as he teleported back to the apartment. the two people in question? you and the baby that was growing in your belly.

back at the apartment

you felt satoru’s cursed energy appear as he teleported back into the living room. he walked towards you and hugged you tightly, surprising you.

“can’t. breathe.” you said as your face was squished into his firm chest.

he immediately let go of you, scared he hurt the baby by embracing you so tightly.

“i know what you're thinking, the baby is fine.” you said as you hugged him back even tighter in return, “did you know the baby is the size of a sweet pea according to my baby tracking app? so they wouldn't have even felt that hug.”

“that’s pretty small.” he said, chuckling softly. he paused to take a deep breath, he then looked down at you, “can we talk?”

you nodded as he guided you back to the couch, sitting down in the soft white cushions as he sat on the floor in front of you, holding your hands.

he looked you in the eyes, “don’t get an abortion, (y/n).”

you blinked twice, “well, that’s not what i was expecting. what changed your mind?”

“i never said i didn’t want kids, babe.” satoru said defensively.

you mumbled as you folded your arms, “you made it sound like you didn’t. and your reaction when i told you i was pregnant earlier today doesn’t support that statement.” avoiding eye contact with him.

he grabbed your hands again and explained his point of view, “i was upset that you hid it from me. and i was surprised because you were on birth control which is supposed to prevent pregnancy. and i was really fucking scared.”

“scared? the satoru gojo scared of a baby the size of a sweet pea?” you emphasized. he furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“i had a come-to-jesus moment during my mission.” he started to say, “(y/n), i’d do anything for you. just like you would for me. but now… we can’t put each other first anymore. we have to set our priorities elsewhere.”

“what do you mean by that?”

“we have to think of this baby and how this baby will always come first now.”

you were quiet, processing what satoru just said. yours and satoru's lives were going to drastically change. this baby would be your number one priority in life. you and satoru spent the last decade caring deeply for each other and being each other's prime concern, now this baby would come first.

you realized that he was terrified of having this baby be the center of his universe, knowing that the baby would be defenseless without you and him. satoru wanted to protect this baby with his life, just like the mother he saved today who wanted to save her baby's life.

being a parent meant that you would always have your heart living outside of your body, and that would make you vulnerable to extreme pain, but also let you experience indescribable love. and that was something you were willing to risk experiencing in life with satoru.

“you're right, babe. i agree.” you said softly, you held his cheek in your hand. “you really want to do this? you really want to be a dad?”

“hell yes i want this.” satoru said confidently, holding your hand against his cheek.

“how dare you get me pregnant, satoru gojo.” you jokingly reprimanded him.

he kneeled forward into you as he kissed you softly, “sorry, it was an accident.”

EXTRA:

“babe! show me this baby app you’ve been using this past week.” satoru demanded playfully as he pulled you into his lap. you grinned as you grabbed your phone to pull up the ‘what to expect’ app.

“so! baby gojo is the size of a sweet pea or a nail head. and they’re .25 inches small.”

"baby gojo... i like the sound of that." he smiled at the thought. he nodded, a signal for you to continue.

“it says that baby gojo’s face is forming and taking shape! i hope they don’t get your big head...” you laughed as satoru frowned.

“my head is not big!” he defended himself, “moving on.”

“it says that the heart starts to pulse around this time and we should be able to hear a heartbeat at my first pre-natal appointment…” you said with a smile.

“i’ll make sure i request that day off.”

“you better! or i’ll have a word with principal yaga.” you smacked his chest playfully with the back of your hand. “baby gojo supposedly looks like a tadpole with a tiny tail. and i won’t feel any movement for awhile.”

“so you can’t feel it move or anything?” satoru asked curiously.

“no, but i’m feeling these pregnancy symptoms.” you complained, “my boobs hurt, my heartburn is worse than usual, and the morning sickness is killing me.”

“okay, so basically, don’t touch your boobs anymore, carry extra tums for you, and hold your hair for you when you throw up in the morning. got it.” satoru noted.

you glared at him with your emerald green eyes, “please stop talking.”

wanna know how the rest of oc gojo girlfriend's pregnancy goes? read the next chapter, ‘milestones’ here.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

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justwinginglife · 3 months ago

Text

Operation Rescue Hoshina aka The Runaway Boyfriend

Inspired by ideas from @adaizel based off of a fic that I wrote where Hoshina tries to avoid reader by running off doing other missions with other divisions and the reader says she'll drag his ass back if she finds him doing it again. Thanks again for the ideas and the enthusiasm. Also this will be NSFW as fuck and this will be longer than my usual fics so buckle up!

When you find the office of the Vice Captain is empty yet again, his stupid chair swiveling like he just had the idea to up and run, you groan. Hoshina loved doing this to you. He loved picking a Division, any division at all, and running away to them under the guise of helping with their missions. He loved to see how long it would take you to find him and come running, yelling profanities at him. He thought it was sexy. And he loved to see just how far he could push you.

It was a little game the two of you would play, and sometimes you were amused and sometimes you weren't.

Today you weren't. You were supposed to be having a meeting with him to talk about new training protocols for the Third Division and here he was fucking around god knows where on a random ass Tuesday, knowing damn well he has loads of paperwork to do. You knew you should have told him Captain Ashiro would be at the meeting too, he'd never mess around if it was the Captain. You were his sole target for teasing.

"Which fucking division are you in now Soshiro??" You grumble to yourself, flipping through papers on his desk, and opening drawers trying to see if he left you some sort of clue. You found nothing and you thought you might have to journey all over Japan to find him, when you got a text on your phone.

Come pick up my idiot brother, please. He's driving me crazy.

You scoff at your phone. Well this was a new one. Looks like he was in the Sixth Division today.

When I get there, I'm going to kick his ass so hard he lands in America.

You suit up and take your motorcycle. He hates when you make him ride on the back of your bike (he claims you drive like a crazy person and his sensitive stomach can't take it) but you don't give a shit right now. You just want the fastest way to get to him, and with this mode of transport you can duck and weave in between cars.

You arrive at the scene of Hoshina's soon to be murder, revving your engine as you spin in circles making donuts on the pavement and sputtering smoke into the air.

You pull out your megaphone from your bag. You had to buy a megaphone at this point.

"SOSHIRO FUCKING HOSHINA! IF YOU DON'T SHOW YOURSELF IN TWO SECONDS I WILL SNAP YOUR SWORDS IN HALF AND SHOVE THEM WHERE THE SUN DON'T SHINE!" You bellow loudly through the speaker.

The onlooking officers wince and move aside, making way for a very embarrassed Soshiro to step through.

"Hi baby." He says, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly as he slowly walks towards you.

"PICK UP THE PACE SOLDIER!" You yell as though he doesn't outrank you.

He sighs and starts jogging to you.

"Little much today, don't you think, love?" He asks as he approaches you.

You raise an eyebrow, daring him to challenge you, and he holds both his hands up in surrender.

He grins. "I mean, it was sexy and all." Then he cocks his head at your ride. "But did you have to bring the damn bike?"

You smirk at that. "If you didn't want to ride on my bike you shouldn't have run away, dumbass."

He groans, already clutching at his stomach. "Please don't drive crazy."

You wink at him. "Shall we do some off-roading? Just for you baby?"

He rolls his eyes and hops on the back of the bike, wrapping his arms around your waist. Then he leans in closer and presses a kiss to your neck. "Hey. We haven't had a date this week yet, and I saw this cute lil diner on the way in. Dinner on me, baby?"

You bite your lip to keep from smiling. This was the one thing you liked about his stupid, wild antics. He'd treat you to anything in whatever city you found yourselves in. "Dinner... and I saw a shopping mall on the way over. Buy me something nice."

He chuckles and snuggles up against you. "Deal baby."

And that was Tuesday. But then came Saturday and Saturday was a whole different beast. It was you and Hoshina's day off and you had been snuggled up in bed with him when he said he wanted to go for a walk, you were still sleepy so you waved him off and he said he'd be back soon. That was three hours ago.

Ughhhh, why's he doing this to me on a Saturday? You groan and throw on your combat suit. You've got your knives tucked in place all over your suit and guns prepared when you hear a knock at the door. That better be him, you think to yourself.

You open the door and it's a woman. You blink. She blinks.

"I'm looking for Soshiro?" She asks.

Your eyes narrow. "Who wants to know?" And who the fuck is using his first name so comfortably.

"I'm his girlfriend." She says snootily.

You throw your head back and laugh once, then you stand up straight, cracking your shoulders and your knuckles. You glare down at her. "That's funny. Because I'm his girlfriend."

She clears her throat. "Well I'm his ex-girlfriend," She corrects herself like it's a simple mistake.

Bitch. You didn't just misspeak, you were trying to have something over me, you think to yourself. "And what the fuck are you doing visiting his place, ex-girlfriend?" You emphasize ex as you step closer to her, towering over her and causing her to back up one step. But she holds her ground and refuses to back up any further.

"Just wanted to see if he missed me, that's all." She says simply and you're pissed off by her honesty. Like she's not threatened by you.

"Be a good girl and tell him I said hi, yeah?" She smirks.

Your fists clench. "Darling, I don't know if you know this, but these apartments are owned by the Defense Force and I'm the Third Division's Platoon Leader so I say you're trespassing. If I see you around here one more time, if you even breathe anywhere near my boyfriend, I will personally grab you by your shitty extensions and drag you off the grounds myself. Is that crystal fucking clear?" You make a point of pulling your gun out, though you know it's an immature move.

She raises an eyebrow but then rolls her eyes and backs off. "I see Soshiro still likes them crazy." Then she walks off and leaves you alone with your thoughts. You watch as her figure recedes, biting into your lip until it bleeds.

What a fucking awful way to spend your Saturday.

You need to shoot something. You open your phone to find the tracking app (you'd finally decided you needed to install some way to trace Soshiro easier), and find he's in the First Division today.

"Sorry Narumi, I'm about to break your fucking door down." You snatch your keys (honestly- you almost rip the whole ass hook off the wall trying to grab them) and get in your car (you think it might be too dangerous to be driving pissed off on a motorcycle). You slam on the gas, the smell of burning rubber filling the air, and you speed off.

When you arrive, you thank god there's an actual kaiju attack. If you didn't have something to kill, you might've strangled Soshiro himself. In fact, you might kill the kaiju and strangle him anyway.

Now the First Division officers see you pull up and they start to groan, looking around at each other nervously. Soshiro runs away to the First Division more than any other division because he knows it'll annoy the shit out of Narumi to have the two of you causing chaos in his city (kill two birds with one stone right?), so these officers know you almost as well as the Third Division at this point. Or at least they thought they did, but today you were a whole different level of frenzied and furious and they were not immune to the fear that followed.

You don't even look at them, and they start to breathe again, thinking they're safe. Then you jump on the head of the nearest kaiju and start pummeling it with your fists until it's pulp. The officers gulp. You usually use your gun and give the kaiju's a quick death- less chance of them hurting anyone else if they die quicker, you'd say. But apparently today you weren't thinking about mercy or efficiency.

When your fists finally start to get tired, you pull out your gun and start rapidly blasting any beast that dares come near you. Then, once you've cleared out most of the kaiju, you start to go for the big one. That's where Narumi and Soshiro are currently held up. Narumi rolls his eyes as you jog up to them and Soshiro grins.

"Hey baby!" He calls to you.

"A fucking walk? Huh, Soshiro? A walk?" You spit out.

He shrugs, still grinning from ear to ear. "It was a long walk, what can I say?"

"You went for a walk in your goddamn combat suit? To the First Fucking Division??" You demand, punching him in the arm.

He senses you're a different kind of mad today but he can't quite figure out why. He watches you intently, trying to piece it together.

You know he's trying to figure you out so you make it easy for him. "Met your bitch ass ex girlfriend today. You know, the one you failed to mention you had."

He coughs. "You met Tsumi?"

Hearing her name, knowing that he knows who you're talking about, pisses you off even more. You punch his other arm and he winces.

"You ladies wanna take this conversation elsewhere? I'm kinda busy here." Narumi says, still shooting at the Honju.

"Actually, I think I'm good right where I'm at." You charge headfirst towards the Honju, while Narumi and Soshiro gape at you. You run at it, shooting anywhere that looks like a soft spot but to no avail. You're glad the Honju isn't easy to kill though- you don't want it to be.

"Guess I'll have to use these." You pull out Soshiro's swords and he spins around wondering when you took them from him. You slash at the beasts legs, arms, chest, neck. You just want to slash at something, anything at this point.

Be a good girl and tell him I said hi, yeah?

You hear her stupid fucking voice in your head and you keep slashing and slashing until you you realize the Honju has been long dead and the officers of the First Division are gathered around you, staring.

You wipe the blood from your face. "Soshiro. We're going home. NOW." You drop his swords to the floor with a clang and he winces at the sound. He collects them quickly and follows you to the car, waving bye to the other officers before he gets in.

You drive home, intending to spend the time in silence but Soshiro has other ideas.

"Does it help if I say you were really sexy back there?"

You're silent.

"Hey, I saw this really cool movie theater we could try. It's got luxury seats and a full bar."

Still silent.

"Baby. Come on. Are you really mad at me? For real? I don't even get a date?"

You glare at him and then turn back to face the road. "Why don't you take Tsumi on a date?"

You can almost hear his stupid cheeky grin. "Ahhh. I see. Someone's jealous. So sexy."

You punch his arm again in the same spot you'd hit earlier. "Hey! You're gonna bruise my beautiful arms, ya know!"

"I'm aiming to."

He scoffs. He's quiet for a moment. Then he daringly says, "I bet Tsumi wouldn't do this to me."

You slam on the brakes.

You peer out the window and it looks like you're near a motel. You drag his ass out of the car and book the two of you a room at the front desk before dragging him to said room.

He smirks. "Little mini vacation? Is that what's going on right now?"

"Get undressed." You demand.

He licks his lips at the sudden order. Though caught off guard by this random excursion of yours, he goes along with it. "Yes ma'am." He starts to strip and for a moment, you get distracted by the ripple of his muscles tight against his body. Then when he's fully naked in front of you, you back him towards the bed. He allows you to, thinking you're here to reward his bad behavior. You're not.

You pull out some handcuffs and shackle him to the bed frame, to his surprise. You start to walk away and the smirk drops from his face as he starts to think that maybe you're going to leave him here in some random motel on the side of the road.

"Hey! Hey wait! Baby, where are you going? Baby, talk to me! You can't leave me here!"

You tsk at him, waving a finger in front of his face. "Be a good boy and sit still, I'll be right back." You tighten his cuffs, sending a slight jolt of pain into his wrists. He gulps.

You leave the room and go grab some things from the car.

When you come back you wrap a blindfold around him and he flinches.

"Wh-what's going on? Baby?" He asks, uncertain for the first time all day.

You nuzzle against his ear and bite the lobe, pulling slightly. He inhales sharply. "I'm going to teach you to behave yourself." You say in a low growl. He shivers.

You pull your whip out and start running it up one of his calves. His breath hitches in his throat. You wrap a hand around his throat, applying slight pressure around it. Before he can get used to the sensation, you drag the whip up and slap it down on his thigh. He gasps at the little taste of pain that's searing his leg, but you know he loves it.

"Tell me... does Tsumi make you feel like this?" You whisper in his ear, this time licking up the curve of it.

He swallows. "N-no baby... only you do." His words are meek and they sound so delicious to you.

"That's a good boy." You whip his other thigh and he groans this time, his cock engorging at the feeling. You lightly drag the whip across his dick, causing it to twitch. He lifts his hips and arches into it, wanting more.

"You want this baby?" You start to drag the whip up his defined abdomen and across his chest. He nods quickly. You smirk at his eagerness. You run the whip down the length of his arm and flick it hard against his forearm.

He groans and bites his lip.

You pull on his bottom lip, and his teeth release it. "No biting, love. That's just for me." You lean forward and bite his lower lip, tugging on it gently before releasing.

"Fuck." He whispers.

"Watch your language baby. I might just have to punish you for that."

"So punish me," He says, breathless.

You lick your lips at his pleading. The sight of him laid bare for you, desperate for your attention, was such a pretty picture. The Vice Captain of the Third Division, all flushed and panting, precum seeping from his throbbing cock. All because you touched him a little.

You thought you'd reward him a little. You trace your tongue up his thigh, lapping at the red welt on his skin. He throws his head back against the bedframe, soaking in the feeling of your wetness on his skin. You grab his balls in one hand and squeeze as you drag your tongue up the length of his bulging erection. You nip at his tip a little and then, before he can react, you deep throat him.

He hits the back of your throat and he inhales sharply. Your mouth tightens around him, coating him thoroughly in your saliva as you suck harder. Then, right as he thinks he might cum, you pull back. He swears and you almost laugh. His legs are shaking now and he bucks at the air, trying to get some relief. You press two hands down tightly on his thighs, shoving him back into the mattress.

"Not yet. You cum when I say you can. Got that?"

He whimpers as more precum trickles out of him.

You place a cock ring at his base and he groans. "You're going to tease the shit out of me until I'm begging for it, huh?"

"You got that right baby."

You click a leash around his neck and uncuff him from the bed. You tug on the leash, pulling him towards you and meeting his lips for a sloppy kiss. Then you withdraw from him, leaving him hungry for more, and you push him down flat against the bedsheets.

He tries to get up, reaching for your face to snag another kiss, but you shove him back down. "Such a bad boy. You only do what I tell you to, got that?" You flick the whip at his thigh again.

He shudders. "Yes baby. Anything you say baby."

Then you pull out your prostate massager and, after lubing it up thoroughly, you slowly side it inside him causing him to gasp. Then you turn it on to a low setting and watch as he twitches, moans escaping his beautiful lips.

"I'm not done with you yet love." While that's running, you grab a vibrating wand and turn it on. It rumbles against the base of his cock, causing him to tremble.

"Fuck." He whimpers.

"What did I say about your language baby? Seems someone hasn't learned their lesson." You turn the settings up on the wand and trace it up his length, earning another groan from him. His precum starts to pump ferociously as the wand reaches his tip. He's starting to overload, unable to keep up with the vibrations coming from both ends of him. He can't tell if he should focus more on the delicious pressure up against his prostate or the rumbling across his dripping tip.

"Now, tell me again. What is Tsumi to you?"

"Nothing. She's nothing." He gasps out.

"And what am I?"

"Everything. You're everything baby." His moans come out low and guttural.

"Good boy. Now tell me, are you going to run away from me again? You know we've got important work to be doing at the Third Division."

He bites his lip.

You sigh. "I see. Still haven't learned your lesson then. Alright, I can go at this all night, let's see how much you can take."

You turn the settings up to max on both devices.

He jolts so quickly he chokes on his spit, the saliva drizzling down his chin, as he clenches the sheets hard. "B-baby! B-baby, p-please!" His words are frantic as they stumble out of his mouth. He chokes back a sob as you press the wand harder against him.

"Th-that's t-too m-much... ah fuck!"

He ejaculates wildly, his hips bucking from the sheer force of it, as hot milky cum spurts out of him in erratic bursts, dousing you. He's still shuddering from his violent orgasm when you've finally turned off the toys and pulled them away from him.

His breathing is ragged and shaky, and sweat from his forehead starts to trickle down and cloud his view.

"S-so we're all good now, r-right?" He asks weakly.

You smirk at him, feeling smug.

"For now."

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #oneshot #anime #hoshina #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina x reader #smut

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trippinsorrows · 3 months ago

Text

with me + part twenty-one

authors note: here it is, friends! i def focused more on the family unit vs friends. i also probably broke some wrestling and wwe protocols/rules. don't care. issa story. let's use our imagination, friends.

hope it lives up to the buildup! low key have had the ending scene written for forever and am so happy to finally have it out.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, angst, and suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 10k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

You had a plan.

A wonderfully thought out plan.

A wonderfully thought out plan that was quickly squashed and thrown out the window the moment you stepped foot in your bathroom and glanced at the mirror.

More a stare, but that’s understandable because the last thing you expected to do was wake up to find yourself with a baby bump.

It’s not like your stomach has ever been fully flat, but anyone who’s ever been pregnant knows that a baby bump has a different kind of look. A different kind of feel.

And all of that is wonderful, a major surprise, but it’s also something that ruins your plans entirely because you haven’t even told Callie about your pregnancy.

The plan was for you and Joe to sit Callie down and tell her about the baby, but said baby has decided to make his presence known regardless of your plan.

It’s still mind blowing to you that you’re already showing, and with as much depth to your bump, at freshly three months. You didn’t even start showing with Callie until you were four months.

There’s no way this isn’t a boy, a boy who’s clearly going to be a big boy just like his daddy.

You try not to think too much about what that might mean delivery wise.

The excitement and happiness easily sets in as the shock wears off, and you must spend a good ten minutes just admiring the first physical sign of life growing inside of you.

You can’t wait to tell Joe, but it’s that though that stops you for a second.

This is a beautiful, wonderful development that would be cheapened if shared via technology. Even a FaceTime video feels not special enough. You want to do everything you can to keep these updates for him in person, so a revised plan is quickly created.

Hide it.

Going to Philadelphia where it’s already chilly makes that a little easier, but dodging too much physical interaction with Callie and your mom, who flew in the night before to fly to Philly with you and Callie, isn’t the easiest, but it’s doable.

Just like this plan.

It’s a plan that somehow, by the grace of God, carries you to travel day, to the airport and even the terminal as you touch down in the city of brotherly love.

Because of a lot of different factors, the most important regarding privacy and even safety, Joe doesn’t meet you at the airport. He instead sends a car to meet the three of you, which you’re partially grateful for as it gives you yet one less chance for him to find out about your baby bump indirectly vs you showing him yourself.

Granted, having to hide a baby bump from three of the most important people in your life is no easy task, especially with Callie who loves to be all over you. Which, normally, you don’t mind because you adore her affection, but it’s just redirecting that focus from your abdomen that’s a pain in the ass.

And you get a bit of a pass when not even a good five minutes into the Airbnb, which is nice as hell, Callie’s sweet voice is shouting with all of the excitement she can muster in her tiny little body.

“Daddy!”

Joe rounds the corner of the kitchen island and drops to his knees just in time to catch Callie who throws herself into him. They’re about what and what when it comes to excitement in seeing each other.

It brings a smile to your face. Their love for each other is probably your favorite thing in this whole world.

Joe greets your mom who is already talking about how she needs to go grocery shopping so she can cook, which you’re not entirely opposed to.

The less you have to do involving that, the better.

But, it’s when he comes toward you, you do your best to be subtle with the placement of your hand on his chest to keep that separation as he kisses you. It’s not subtle enough though, because you catch the peculiar look he shoots your way, and you’re certain if not for Callie pulling his attention to the artwork she’d created for him, he’d call you out on the spot.

But Callie always comes first, and you’ve never been more grateful.

It’s that distraction that allows you to sneak upstairs where you easily find the room Joe already has his stuff in. Emptying only some of the contents, you’re mainly only concerned with hanging up your dresses.

And once that’s done, you decide it’s now or never, walking into the living room where Joe is playing with Callie.

“Callie, I need to talk to your daddy real quick.”

As expected, she’s a pouting, protesting mess. “Mommy, nooooo.”

“It’ll be real fast baby, like ten minutes.” Bargaining with your four year old to talk to your boyfriend, who is also her dad….definitely another thing not on your 2024 bingo card..

However, this is a semi acceptable temporary swap, but not enough for her to not use her little tablet and literally set a timer for ten minutes.

Rolling your eyes, you wave Joe over. “Girl, you are so dramatic.” She’s clearly been hanging around Alexis too much. You didn’t even know she knew how to do that.

Joe meets you at the bottom of the steps. “Better hurry up, we on the clock.”

It takes tremendous effort not to flip him off. “Shut up.”

The bedroom door is barely closed before he’s asking with all the attitude, “now you gon tell me why you acting funny?”

It’s impossible not to roll your eyes. Nothing gets past this man. “You’re so damn dramatic just like your daughter.” It’s gotta be the light skin in him. “Sit down.” He opens his mouth, probably to say something else smart, but you remind him, “hurry up before she comes beating on the door. You know she loves her daddy time.”

That seems to do it, or at least enough for him to begrudgingly drop his bulky body down on the edge of the bed. Forever impatient, he asks again, “well?”

With another shake of your head, you decide to put this man child out of his misery. Walking over so you’re only a couple inches away from him, your hand moves under the layers of clothing as you lift them over your stomach.

“This is why I was acting funny.” It’s impossible to hold back the smile on your face at the way his eyes light up with a perfect and expected combination of enjoyment and shock. “Good enough reason?” Naturally, his big hand reaches to feel the swell of your belly, the first physical sign of the child growing inside of you. “I knew you’d feel it if you hugged me, and I didn’t want you to find out that way.”

“You’re showing….” It’s such an obvious statement, but you know it comes from such a special and meaningful place for him.

“I am,” you answer, watching him continue to rub your stomach, like he’s trying to make sure it’s real, that this is real. “And that’s how I know this is definitely a boy, because I didn’t start showing this much with Callie until I was four, maybe five months.” And you just hit three months officially last week. “Watch him have your big ass ears and feet.”

Joe tugs you closer, lips pressed against your stomach. It makes your heart swell. His gaze then lifts, eyes full of curiosity, “does she know?”

“No. That’s been hard too, trying to hide it from her. Because I refused to tell her without you.” It would literally kill you to deprive him of that opportunity. Even more, you’re not sure you even feel entirely comfortable doing as such. It feels so inherently wrong to do or share anything major like this with her without Joe’s help or input, preferably the former.

“I told you. I’m gonna do everything right this time….” You lean down and kiss his forehead, asking in an equally low voice. “Are you still cool with me going to the awards with you?”

He stares at you with utter confusion “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Shrugging, you explain, intentionally not stating the real reason you’re unsure. He can read between the lines. “Well, my dress is tight and there’s no way in hell you won’t be able to see my bump in it. Any of my dresses for this weekend, really.”

You’re just thankful you can still wear them even with this almost overnight curveball of your belly suddenly extending more.

Joe’s gaze softens as he lays his hands on your hips, holding you protectively. “Y/N, I haven’t a fucking ounce of desire to try to hide this pregnancy. I don’t want to publicly announce it per se, but I don’t give a fuck who at WWE knows that we’re having another baby. I’m happy about this, over the fucking moon. Let them see you’re pregnant. I don’t care.”

You know this. Deep down, you wholeheartedly know this. But there’s always this annoying string of fear you have have of doing something to mess up or fuck with all of his accomplishments. You know how much he went through to get to where he is, and you’d never ever do anything to risk that.

“Okay.” His reassurance means a lot to you. It’s exactly what you need. With a sigh, you ask, curious and hopeful, “so, can we tell Callie about the baby now and then let my mom see I’m showing?”

“Of course, baby, whatever you want.”

His agreement was a given, but it’s still a massive relief. “Thank you cause wearing all these clothes got me sweating and shit, and hiding it from my mom has been really hard.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t even start that shit. One of us has to be employed.” You move for the door to call Callie when he stops you. “Yes?”

His big hands snake around to your ass, giving a gentle yet firm squeeze. “I prefer you in nothing anyway.”

Ugh. Tonight can’t come fast enough. “You’re so nasty….” You love it, though. Besides, It’s been way too long. Stealing a kiss, you walk over and open the door, calling out, “Callie! Come here, baby!”

This little girl comes speeding up the stairs and runs into the room, instantly jumping back onto Joe who makes a fake grunt sound as he falls back on the bed with her on his chest.

“Sis, if you don’t stop all that running…..” The older she gets, the more it seems like she has all this energy she doesn’t know what to do with. Ya’ll should be putting her in gymnastics instead of ballet.

“Baby………” Her giggles die down as Joe stops tickling her, sitting up and kissing her temple, eyes closing for a bit. He missed her so much. “You remember how grandma told you where babies come from?”

She nods, happily explaining as if you and Joe need a refresher on this topic. “Jesus tells the angels to put a baby in a mommy’s belly, so the baby can have a mommy and daddy.”

It’s not exactly the type of explanation you would have given, but you also don’t know if you could have done much better with such a question being asked on the spot like that. So, it’ll do for now.

“That’s right.” No need to take her little joy at that clear, concise explanation she’s clearly proud of. Even if it’s a bit…..off. “And we got the best baby in all of baby heaven.” You bop her nose and she giggles. “But Calista….the angels came to see mommy again.”

You can see that she’s partially picking up what you’re implying, but it’s Joe who does the honors of sharing the outright news. He angles her, so she’s looking at him as wel. “Your mommy and I are having another baby, Callie Bear,” Joe explains as you lift your garments again to show Callie your stomach. “You’re gonna be a big sister.”

She gasps loudly and points. “Mommy! Your tummy is bigger!”

Laughing, you explain, “that’s right. It’s gonna keep getting bigger because that means the baby is growing.”

Your eyes water as she reaches over to feel on your stomach, happily exclaiming, “I’m gonna have a baby sister!”

Laughing, you remind her, “or brother.”

She doesn’t seem to hear or care too much about that, immediately asking the two of you, “can I play with the baby?”

Joe handles that one, answering so effectively “when she or he gets a little older, yes, but not when they’re still really little because you have to be really careful with babies.”

“When is the baby coming?”

“September.”

She’s instantly annoyed, crossing her arms. “That’s a really long time!”

Both you and Joe laugh at that one as you readjust your clothes, “it’ll go by really fast. Trust me.” Leaning over, you ask her, already knowing the answer ahead of time. “You wanna help me and your daddy tell grandma about the baby?”

Your mom already knows about the pregnancy, but this will be her first time seeing your bump. Beyond that, you know she’ll play dumb for the sake of not wanting to deter Callie’s excitement.

She freaking cheers, fists raised and everything as she hops off Joe’s lap and reaches for both of your hands. “Come onnnnn.”

Obliging Callie, each of you holding one of her hands, Joe shoots you a look, conveying all of his happiness and love.

And you reciprocate it right back.

Life is so damn good right now.

———-

The Hall of Fame awards is definitely a night to remember, starting with all of the hoopla that comes with the preparation. Kaylah comes over to Joe’s Airbnb to get ready with you, which is appreciated. Of course, Alexis comes over from her hotel as well. It ends up being a fun girls thing with you actually noticing and missing the presence of Bianca and Trinity, though you know Bianca’s flight doesn’t come in until tomorrow morning and logistically, it’s just easier for Trin to get ready at her and Jon’s Airbnb.

Still, it’s a bit of an ordeal squeezing into your gown. Out of the three dresses you purchased for the weekend’s events, the Hall of Fame number was already the most snug prior to your bump appearing almost overnight. Thankfully, it’s workable, and it does look good on you still. It’s just, obviously, tighter in the stomach area than you would have liked.

There’s no way in hell people won’t be able to see you’re pregnant. Ain’t enough bloating in the world.

But, the minute you walk down those steps, and Joe lifts his attention from the phone in his hand, you’re reminded again how unbothered he is by the fact that most of his colleagues in the WWE will know that you two are expecting. The gentle way he cradles your bump and equally gentle kiss against your forehead as he assures you how beautiful you look washes away any and all anxiety.

And it’s just the cherry on top when Callie gushes over how much you look like a Disney princess. There are additional compliments, but the ones from your two favorite people in this entire world easily snatch the top spot.

There’s a bit of renewed anxiety when arriving at the actual awards, but Joe’s hand is firmly around yours, never once loosening or his grip slipping. That makes a world of difference to you. The anxiety is also depleted by the fact that the two of you, which makes a lot of sense, are seated by the twins. Being around Kaylah and Trinity is so relieving, and Trin nearly tackles some female wrestlers when she runs over to hug you, feeling on your bump. You really missed her.

Her energy is so infectious.

She even manages to convince you and Kaylah to make a couple TikToks with her in the bathroom before the ceremony begins, one of them being some apparent trend the clock app has started based upon the whole Mariah fiasco. You don’t really understand it, but Hollaback Girl is that song, so you go with it freely and play the role well.

It’s their presence, along with the twins even, that keeps you comfortable and relaxed when Joe has to leave toward the end of the night to prepare for his induction speech for Paul Heyman. And when your man’s music hits, followed by him walking out a few minutes later, you’re grateful you’re already with child, cause he most definitely would be putting a baby in you tonight. Joe is just an insanely attractive human being, but that black suit, the swagger, the confidence, it’s all a dangerous combination.

He looks so damn good. As embarrassing as it is, it’s hard for you to pay attention to his actual speech. You’re certain it’s just as good as he looks, but your pregnancy hormones have accelerated your sex drive more than typical because all you can think about is his beautiful, long, thick dick inside of you, filling you to the brim in the way that only he can.

There’s a couple of shifts in your seat during said speech as well.

And, of course, this fine ass motherfucker notices because he notices everything. It takes your entire arsenal of self-control not to punch him when he rejoins you, casually whispering in your ear, “you need me to take care of that for you, mama?”

You hate him.

But, you also love him.

Still hate him though.

Not enough to nearly jump his bones the minute the two of you are alone in the back of the SUV. Not even the length of your dress can get in the way of you spreading your thighs across his lap. His thick, spread legs allow you to feel the bulge of him against your center. It nearly makes you come right then and there, fully clothed and all.

“When we get back to that house….”

He chuckles, deep voice purring in your ear as his hand slips under your dress, pushing aside your panties to tease those deliciously talented fingers across your already wet folds. “What? Tell daddy what you want, baby.” You squeeze his shoulders as he dips two fingers in, and it takes everything in you not to moan out his name. “You want this pussy in my mouth? Hmm. Want daddy’s dick inside you?”

You can’t bring yourself to speak, just furious nodding against his shoulder as his fingers make a hitherto motion inside you, your pussy contracting against him.

It’s fucking disgusting how pathetic you are for this man, how all your defenses crumble and shatter just from one fucking touch.

And it’s embarrassing as hell when the driver opens the car door, and you have to quickly reorient yourself as Joe yanks his fingers out of you, leaving you just as much a mess but an incognito mess.

Yeah…..you really do hate this man.

Just not enough to nearly be ready to run up the stairs and rip his clothes off the minute you step back into the Airbnb.

But, that’s only a dream, a hope, a fantasy.

Because you two are met with the peacefully sleeping, tiny body of none other than Callie right smack dab in the middle of your and Joe’s bed.

You’ve never in your entire life been both so awestruck and devastated at the exact same time.

For a brief, embarrassing moment, you consider asking Joe to fuck you in the bathroom. You’re just that feral for him, but logic quickly rushes back in, and you’re sickened by just the idea of having sex literally feet away from where your daughter sleeps. Locked door or not.

It’s a bummer, for sure, but you and Joe adjust accordingly, able to actually undress and shower together without giving into carnal temptations for the sake of your little girl…..your cock blocking little girl, but still your little girl.

And truthfully, it all balances out the moment you and Joe slide in bed, keeping Callie in the middle to not disturb her, because you’re filled with so much happiness having all of your family together.

That…..that is what’s most important to you.

———-

Social Media-Verse

ROMAN REIGNS AND Y/N OFFICIAL THREAD:

OP: Ya’ll!!!! Y/N is pregnant. Some videos and photos got leaked from the WWE Hall of Fame awards, and she was there with Roman sporting a very obvious baby bump.

User 1: I swear this shit been more entertaining than that “who did I marry” TikTok storytime. Congrats, though!

User 2: It’s 2024. Why are we still commenting on whether people are or are not pregnant? She could just be bloated.

User 3: @/user2: ……you clearly have no kids. That’s very much a baby bump. There’s even a clip of Trinity (Naomi) running up and rubbing her stomach. Same with Roman. Sis is pregnant lol

User 4: Wow! I wonder how far along she is? Looks maybe four or five months. Congratulations to them. Their daughter is so stinking cute. I know this new baby will be too.

User 5: So was she dealing with all that bullshit while pregnant? Wow, that’s rough. No wonder she started crying on the live. That’s gotta be a lot.

User 6: I know this has been said but my God, she is gorgeous. The silk press. The melanin. The body. She really gives off 90s Gabby Union beauty. Roman got a bad one for sure.

User 7: Ya’ll seen that viral TikTok of them from last night when they were walking in? The one with that Million Dollar Baby song? Someone added a slow-mo filter, and I swear it awakened the bisexual in me. I don’t know who I want to fuck more: him or her.

User 8: @/User7: I mean both is an option….

User 9: Seeing the lil clips of them interacting, I’m not surprised sis is knocked up again. I know he be folding her like a pretzel. You can tell he talks her through it.

User 10: I know I saw a few fonts were skeptical of Jadah and Y/N’s story, but we’ve seen this man speak up for and step out with Y/N more than we ever did with Jadah. It’s obvious they were telling the truth. He may have been married to Jadah, but his heart is clearly and has always been with Y/N. The actions speak for themselves.

User 11: I still can’t believe we got to watch and witness this whole ordeal for free.

User 12: I wonder if she’ll be at WM?

User 13: @/user12: you know she will be. If she’s at the HoF, I can’t see her not being there, since she’s already in Philly. I just wonder if he’ll have her ringside again?

User 12: @/User13: I doubt it. Not after everything that’s gone down. There’s a lot of psycho weirdos in the wrestling community. She’ll probably be in a suite like Kaylah was last year (Jey’s wife) with the kids just for safety reasons.

User14: I think it’s wild how people have really romanticized this Brad/Angelina/Jennifer bullshit. She fucked, got pregnant by, and stole a woman’s whole husband but we’re on here talking about ‘oh, but she’s pretty’ and giving her a pass? This generation is guttersnipe filled.

User 15: @/User14: Have you caught up on the whole story? Y/N’s ex ‘best friend’ lied about a ton of shit. Yeah, Jadah was his wife, but she herself acknowledged it was an open marriage with Roman. I think she even said she doesn’t like calling it a marriage because she never loved him and always saw them more as roommates. It’s actually a sad situation in a lot of areas, but all parties were consenting. Not necessarily orthodox, but also not anything to judge and persecute over. Two people met, fell in love, and started a family. What’s so wrong about that?

User 16: Here come the Bitter Betty’s. Ain’t ya’ll the same ones that was saying he was about to start hiding Y/N and their daughter with blankets and shit like Michael? Still waiting on that, btw.

User 17: I went through his whole IG feed and found not one personal/non-kayfabe post EXCEPT for the one he made about the situation. He’s also now openly taken Y/N to an event, something we never saw with the ex-wife. This man is private as hell but hasn’t hesitated to make it clear he’s not hiding her for shit. I suspect they won’t be as public with their kids, but that makes all the sense. He clearly does love her, though.

User18: Trinity uploaded a TikTok of her and Y/N lip singing to Hollaback girl!!! Ya’ll she’s seen the trend! Omg I am DECEASED! Y/N knows what’s up! Hey girl! If you up here and you and Roman ever want a third person, I’m available.

User19: @/User18: Wait, I’m confused. Please clue me in.

User 20: @/User19: So basically someone dug up a photo of Y/N and Mariah when they cheered together and Mariah is giving a low key shady expression. Someone then made a video with the photo followed up with photos and clips of Y/N looking amazing. Lol. It started a trend, and they added the song Hollaback girl since Y/N was cheer captain, and allegedly, Mariah ass was always jealous because she wanted to be captain but was a ‘hollaback girl’ . Hope that makes sense. Kind of hard to explain. Just type in ‘Y/N Hollaback Girl’ and you’ll see a flood of videos. lol

———-

It’s still somewhat unclear to you just why you expected to spend a lot of time at the house with your mom and Callie. Or with Alexis, Bianca, Kaylah, etc.

You just figured that while Joe invited you two out to see and spend time with him, the actual time spent would be minimal due to how crazy busy he must be.

Boy, were you wrong.

Joe is up early and therefore has you, your mom, and Callie up early to come with him to Lincoln Field.

The actual site of where WrestleMania will be.

Confused but also excited, you don’t hesitate to get ready, the three of you out the door in no time.

It’s pretty freaking cool seeing the field all set up and prepared for WrestleMania. There are some minor areas they’re clearly still working on, but seeing everything before the seats are filled and the lights come on is an experience.

It’s an experience especially for Callie too who hangs onto every word Joe says to her in his explanation of different things for her fifty million questions. She also, quite literally, hangs onto him physically, whether it’s him holding her hand as he walks and shows her around or holding her as he walks and shows her around.

Truthfully, you feel like a bit of a third wheel, invading their daddy daughter bonding, because your mom eventually goes to sit down somewhere complaining about her feet hurting or some other excuse. Joe does his best to keep you included, but Callie makes it clear she is number one on the attention list for this trip. And that’s okay. It’s more than okay, because she should and will always come first.

If anything, it allows you to snap a bunch of photos and take videos, something you made sure to ask Joe you can do before turning into Annie Leibovitz. It’s just too great an opportunity to pass up, to not capture these moments with them, this amazing experience and blending of two of his greatest achievements in this life.

And pregnancy emotions are at an all time high, because there’s no reason for you to get so emotional at the sight of him holding Callie, her head laid peacefully against his shoulder as he talks to people like Tripple H and Paul Heyman, his fucking coworkers and boss, like it’s nothing. And neither man, to your knowledge, says anything about it either which isn’t entirely surprising.

Joe always speaks highly of Paul, an eccentric character but genuinely nice man, something you can tell right away from Joe’s introduction of the two of you at the Hall of Fame. Same with Triple H, Hunter, as he said to call him. You’re especially grateful and happy to meet him, as Joe has expressed how Hunter taking the reins from Vince has resulted in the wrestler’s having more time off to be with family.

Hunter has made it possible for Joe to be able to come and see you and Callie as much as he has over the months.

That’s going to make a huge, beneficial difference in the next couple of months.

For obvious reasons.

Meanwhile, while Y/N spends time with her little family, taking in this beautiful moment. Y/N’s mom sits down. She sits and watches along with Kaylah and Bianca (who’d joined the group about an hour ago) the adorable interaction of her daughter’s growing little family.

The older woman, studying her daughter especially, comments in a leading manner, like she’s trying to hint at something without outright saying it, “that’s a defined baby bump to only be three months….”

Kaylah turns to Y/N’s mom, agreeing, “I know, that’s what I was thinking too, but she’s definitely three months. She said the OB/GYN confirmed her conception date at the appointment when she found out.”

“She looks four months. Maybe even five….” Y/N’s mom looks over at Bianca and Kaylah. “We’re all mothers, have experienced pregnancy….”

“Yes ma’am.” Bianca and Kaylah confirm as the older woman sighs, tapping her painted nails against the side of her face.

“You know what I’m thinking?”

And just like that, they do. Bianca gasps as Kaylah asks in a lowered voice, “you don’t think she—”

“We can’t rule it out. Look at her.” Y/N’s mom gestures across the way, quickly asking for clarification purposes. “Don’t they run on Joseph’s side of the family?”

Kaylah nods, still trying to wrap her head around the insinuation alone. “Yeah, but I could have sworn I read years ago it comes more from the mother’s side. Do ya’ll have—”

The oldest of the three women shakes her head, killing at least that chance. “Not that I’m aware of.”

Bianca makes a face, prompting Y/N’s mom to ask, “what?”

She’s clearly hesitant but eventually shares, “we have a couple on my dad’s side.”

At that, Kaylah gasps again, slapping her hand over her mouth. “We should tell her.”

“No, no, no. We don’t want to get her all worked up.” Y/N’s mom quickly shoots down that idea, knowing her daughter well enough to know that wouldn’t turn out well. “We could be wrong—unlikely—but still. She told me they’ll hear the heartbeat at her appointment on Monday. We’ll find out then.”

Bianca blows out a breath. Talk about a plot twist. “Lord, if we’re right….she gon’ kill that man.”

No one disagrees with her statement either.

———-

WrestleMania Day one arrives, and to the surprise of literally no one, Joe and Josh arrange for you all to be in a suite that’s just as nice, if not nicer, than the one at the Super Bowl.

It’s spacious enough for the lot of you which includes yourself, your mom, Callie, Alexis, Bianca and her fam as well as Kaylah and the kids. It’s actually really nice to have such a commodius area so that the girls can all distract themselves with each other and devices when the actual match starts. The older kids, however, are fully invested in watching Wrestling’s biggest night: part one.

Once again, Joe surprises you by how present and involved he is with you and Callie. She spends a portion of the beginning of the night with him, Joe once again explaining some of the logistics in such a simple and easy for her to understand manner.

He’s so good with her, so patient, so adept at meeting her on her level.

And Callie, of course, loves every second of it, latches onto every word that leaves his mouth. Again, you’re snapping photos of the interactions, a trip to Walgreens to get them printed is one of the first things on your to do list post-Disney.

You’re especially over the moon when you capture the moment Callie gives Joe a special drawing she created for him depicting him standing in the middle of the ring, raising his belt with WrestleMania and ‘Acknowledge Me’ written at the top of the page.

She might or might not have asked for your help with the spelling.

He’s so touched by this, and Callie is ecstatic when he tapes it on the wall of his locker room. It’s also the cutest fucking thing how she yells out “good luck, daddy!” as security escorts the two of you back to the suite.

You may have once been his biggest fan, but she’s clearly snatched that title from you with all the quickness.

But while you were prepared to get comfortable in the suite, catching up on girl talk with the ladies once Callie, Taylor, and Ellie got situated with their tablets, that plan is quickly down the drain when security is back and telling you that Joe has asked for you to join him.

That confuses the shit out of you, because he should be getting ready. Why is he asking for you?

And you tell him as such the minute you’re face to face again.

Arms crossed, you force yourself ignore how fucking good he looks and the urge you have to lick a perfect trail down his defined six pack. “Not sure if you’re aware of this, but you’re on the clock, babe. Tick Tock.” He chuckles and walks over, hand to your stomach. “Seriously, Joe, why am I here?”

He answers it so simply, like it should be obvious. “I want you here, so you’re here.”

Looking around, it’s hard not to notice the crew, the cameras, and everything else that makes you feel even more out of place. “Baby, am I allowed to be back here?”

He ignores that question, light brown eyes trailing over you from head to toe. “Damn, you look good.”

He’s not wrong.

Makeup on point. Silk press pressing to the gods. Your outfit is just the icing on an already delicious cake. The dress is even more flattering than your gown from the Hall of Fame, baby bump and all. And even though it’s cold as shit outside, the building is relatively well-insulated and beyond that, looking your best on such a big night for the man you love takes precedence over comfort and temperature.

“I’m not gonna distract you?” And then he flexes, a subconscious act that has you licking your lips. “Or maybe you’ll distract me….”

Joe smiles and takes your hand. “Come on.” He begins to lead you out of the room, the camera crew following closely, and for a minute, you panic because it’s obvious he’s eased back into his Roman role. Talking his shit as he walks down a hall that’s far from barren, literal fucking Philladelhia Eagles cheering for him while he saunters with all the confidence in the world, never once releasing your hand.

It’s such a strange yet overwhelmingly good feeling for him to be unabashed about you and his love for you. On one of the biggest nights of his career, amidst all the drama and chaos, he has you, front and center, proudly right by his side.

That’s why you also tap back into your “It Girl” era, easily matching his aura and energy because while he may look good as hell in all areas, so do you.

You’re very much equally yoked.

Joe moves ya’ll into a gym area that’s laid out perfectly with weights and equipment for him to pump before the match.

The crew departs for a little while, offering a reason that sounds legitimate enough, but you’re also not that interested or concerned. You’re just happy to have some alone time with Joe.

Leaning back against a stack of mats, you ask him as he starts lifting. “I ever tell you the story about the time Callie called herself running away from home?” The horrified look on Joe’s face is hilarious, so you quickly assure, “relax, it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“You just told me our four year old ran away from home…..” When he says it like that, it does sound kind of bad. “What the hell did you do to my little girl?”

Rolling your eyes, you jump right into the explanation, unsure about just how much time you have before the match kicks off. “She's always been a really sweet, easy kid, with the exception of cleaning up after herself. That’s why I always tell you to make her clean because I had a hard time drilling that in her head.” To his credit, he has gotten better with it. “So this was a couple of months before you came back in the picture. I’d been telling her if she didn’t start cleaning up her toys, I was gonna limit her Disney time.”

He’s visibly irritated, switching to the barbell. “That’s foul, Y/N. You know how much my baby loves Disney.”

“That’s exactly why I had to use it. It has to be something she cares about. Anyway, it finally reached a point where I had enough, and told her no Disney for three days. It wasn’t even a week.”

Just recalling the experience brings a humored smile to your face. “Her lil dramatic ass threw a fit and said she was running away to live with grandma. Now, my mom was already coming over to pick her up for the weekend, so I wasn’t too worried. I told her to do what she had to do.” Plus, as a literal four year old, it’s not as if she would ever have the privacy and chance to run away for real.

“So she took a couple things, stuffed them in her lil yellow suitcase, and marched her cute self down the steps to where my mom was waiting for her in the car, cause I had called her to let her know what was happening when sis was throwing her lil tantrum.”

“You upset her. How’d you expect her to react?” You decide to let that lil comment pass. It’s only a matter of time before he finally gets to experience Callie throwing a fit for himself. Then, he’ll get it.

“I go down the steps to bring my mom Callie’s booster seat, and before she can even get it buckled in, my mom tells Callie that before they can play, she needs help cleaning up the house.” You start laughing, shaking your head. “And when I tell you that lil’ girl did such a 180. All of a sudden, she’s latched onto my leg, telling me she’s sorry, she wants to stay with me, she’ll clean anything I tell her, the works. It was hilarious.”

He’s also laughing, hands on his hips in between a set. “She’s definitely strong willed. She gets it from you.”

“She gets it from us,” you correct, intentionally emphasizing the last word. Calista is the perfect combination of the both of you, the product of your love and the resilience of said love. “Come on.” You straighten up and motion to the weights. “I’ll count you off.”

His brow lifts curiously, “coming out of retirement for me?”

You suck your teeth, redirecting him. “Shut up and get to lifting, Roman.”

The crew returns not too much longer after you start helping him track sets and reps, but it doesn’t stop the conversation. You can’t tell if him taking to and with you is something to maybe curb nerves or if he just genuinely wants to talk to you. Neither makes a difference because you enjoy this time together, for a variety of reasons. From being able to see and be around this monolithic of a man shirtless, sexy as hell, shared tattoo of your daughters name viewable for all to see, on both of you, to just having ‘one on one’ time to interact as two people in love.

It’s just really fucking nice.

And when it’s just about time for him to go out, he’s gone for a couple of minutes to pray and wet his hair and body before returning looking somehow even sexier.

It should be a goddamn sin to be that fine.

Emotion fills you up as you’re allowed the privilege of placing the ula fala around his neck, something prompted and encouraged by Paul. It’s such a special moment that you don’t take lightly.

“Hey.” You reach for his beard, forcing his gaze on you as you feed last minute encouragement into him. “You got this, alright? Stay in the moment. Keep your focus. Do what you do best. Go out there and kill it.”

He nods, his hand gently rubbing your bump, lips lingering against your forehead as he murmurs, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He gives you one last look and moves to walk out on the stage, Paul following right behind him.

Using the monitors in the Gorilla position, you watch with all the pride in your body as he walks out, so powerful and authoritative. It’s so painfully clear how in his element he is.

He really was made for this shit.

Once he’s in the ring, you have security escort you back to the suite, Callie nearly tackling you with a plethora of questions regarding if you saw “daddy’s walk” and if you “acknowledged him.”

She adores that man so much, and it makes your heart swell.

There’s a bit of disappointment on her end at not being allowed to watch the match, but it’s eased by playing with her cousins.

And together, you and the other ladies are able to enjoy the match, both enjoyable yet stressful for you in particular. You’re not sure if you’ve ever told Joe that there’s always a bit of anxiety on your end when he’s competing.

It pisses you off to no end when people try to say wrestling is all “fake.” There’s a lot of things that’s scripted, but those fucking hits and falls are real as hell. Ain’t shit fake about that. And Joe is so good at selling shit, it’s sometimes hard not to freak out.

Especially this match, as it's physical as hell, which is understandable given the contenders.

But holy hell, do they all put on a show.

As expected, Joe and Dwayne win, meaning night two will be Bloodline Rules with Joe officially securing his latest accomplishment with having the most Main Events at WrestleMania of all time.

You’re so proud of him.

And Callie, as always, is through the moon when she finds out her daddy came out with the win. She’s speeding down the hall when Dwayne and Joe walk backstage, Joe easily handing Paul his belt to catch Callie in a hug.

You let them have their moment, laughing as Callie calls out to Dwayne, “congratulations, cousin Maui!” It makes everyone in the hearing vicinity laugh, really.

Joe walks over, still holding Callie with one arm and leans down to kiss you. Naturally, you reach up and push some of his hair back. God, you love when it gets like this, wild and untamed. It reminds you of when you two—“how are you feeling?”

He gives a default answer that most men provide cause they’re stubborn as hell. “I’m good.”

“Liar. I saw that face you made getting out the ring.” This man’s back gotta be killing him.

He chuckles and squeezes your hip. “I’m good, baby.”

Having to just take his word for it, you two spend a couple more minutes with him before Joe is off to get cleaned up for a press conference.

He says it won’t take long, but that you can take Callie back to the Airbnb since it’s so late if you want. That’s nice in theory, but you know Callie would like to wait for him, would probably throw a fit if she has to leave without her daddy. So, you opt to just wait for him in the SUV as everyone else has already started leaving, your mom included, who is already on her way back to the house.

These people really can’t hang.

Granted, you’re fighting back sleep too, adrenaline finally dying down.

So maybe you can’t hang either.

You’re walking with Callie, flanked by the security team who will escort you to the SUV when Callie turns her head, listening for something, clearly.

This child must have exceptional hearing, or maybe Joe’s naturally deep, baritone voice has traveling abilities that exceed what is normal. Because she certainly hears him, your own hearing only latching onto him saying something about “use your feet.”

And before you can stop her, Callie is on the move.

“Callie!”

“Daddy!” is all you hear before you’re maneuvering through the two guards who just allow her to dash away in the direction of Joe's voice. You can only move so fast, your slightly swollen feet starting to feel the pain from these damn high heels.

So by the time you reach her, calling her name in an almost urgent whisper, it's already too late.

She’s walking onto the mini stage where Joe is conducting his press conference. Turning his head to the side where she entered, his eyes immediately land on Callie, and it amazes you how easily he switches from Roman to Joe.

A small smile is on his handsome face as he moves back in his chair a bit and opens his arms to her. Naturally, she climbs into his lap, hugging him, head on his shoulder.

There’s a chorus of awes from the reporters, and you watch as Joe gently rubs her back and kisses her temple. He whispers something in her ear, and she lifts her head to look at him. They share some kind of unspoken exchange as he helps her back onto the ground where she quickly makes her way back over to you.

Instantly, you grab her hand. “Calista, baby, you cannot run off like that.” It’s hard to be too stern with her when she, technically, just went to see her dad.

And she says as such, explaining with all of the innocence, “I wanted to see daddy.”

A quick glance up and you see Joe shoot you a wink before he’s back in his Roman headspace, making a smartass comment.

You chuckle.

She just wanted to see her daddy.

———-

You’re in the middle of a very good dream that’s interrupted prematurely by tugging on your shirt that you’re all too familiar with. Blinking eyes are met with the sleepy and almost sad face of an awake Calista.

Instantly, you’re forcing yourself to lean up as much as you can with Joe’s big arm securely wrapped around you, his hand on your stomach. He’s snoring lightly, enjoying well deserved sleep after a rough night of brutal physicality. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I can’t sleep….”

And right from that, you know it’s because she has something on her mind. She gets that from you.

“Come here, baby girl.” You pat the empty space on the bed next to you and wait for her to crawl on the mattress where you lay the covers over her to help keep her warm. “What ya thinking about?”

She’s on her back, playing with her fingers as you brush your thumb over her forehead. “Tomorrow is our last day with daddy……” It’s what you were guessing but definitely not what you wanted to hear.

“You’re sad cause you don’t wanna leave, huh?” She says nothing but nods slowly. A heavy sigh leaves you as you juggle your options here. You want so badly for the element of surprise to be kept and maintained, as is Joe’s preference. But, it’s hard to stick with that when your little girl is lying here sad, unable to sleep because she thinks she’s not gonna see her dad again for X amount of time. You try to think of how Joe would want you to respond.

Quickly, you realize he’d want you to do whatever you need to do to take away her sadness.

“Can you keep a secret? You can’t tell anyone. It’s just between you and me, okay?” She’s visibly confused but again nods, acknowledging understanding. “Daddy wanted to surprise you, but he’s flying home with us tomorrow night, and he’s gonna spend the whole week off with us.”

Her eyes light up, that frown quickly morphing into a smile. “Really!”

You laugh, shushing her even though Joe could sleep through WW3. Not to mention how beat he must be from the match. “Yes, but you gotta pretend like you don’t know when he tells you, okay?”

She nods and exclaims happily, “a whole week. That’s a long time!”

Her saying that suddenly pulls out some sadness from you. Joe has never even been able to spend a full week with his daughter. It’s definitely a bitter thing that you don’t allow yourself to dwell on too much.

“Yes ma’am.” You bring your hand to her bonnet, asking in a soft voice, “does that make you feel less sad?” She nods just as quietly, and you lean over to kiss her forehead. “Good.”

As expected, she asks gently, “can I sleep with you guys?”

It’s an easy answer. “Of course, baby.”

She turns her body toward and into you, eyes closing minutes later, followed by subsequent, peaceful sleeping. You follow shortly after, a new, different kind of dream.

Not as inappropriate.

Just as happy.

———-

Night Two of WrestleMania rolls around, and immediately, something is different.

Something feels…..off. It’s very similar to night one in a lot of ways, primarily the schedule and flow of things, along with Joe interacting a lot with you and Callie, as much as he can, at least.

But, he seems off. Like there’s something on his mind that he refuses to admit and/or share.

Everything is almost identical to the first night, essentially the same schedule with you, Joe, and Callie spending time together before he sends you back to the suite with Callie to get her set up with her cousins.

Then he calls back for you about 20 to 30 minutes before the start of the match, and that’s when you really feel it.

He’s in his head a bit, and you can tell by the fact he isn’t as talkative, not distant, just….off.

Waiting until he finishes his set, you walk over and take his hand. “Joe, are you okay?”

There’s an instant dismissal. “I’m fine.” He asks, curious. “Why?”

Shrugging, you’re not sure how to explain it and express as such. “I don’t know…..something just feels off. You seem almost somber.”

“I’m fine, I promise, okay?” He moves his hand to the back of your neck, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His eyes take you in. “I really like this dress.”

Small smile on your face, it’s not enough to distract you from your concern, but it’s appreciated. You definitely saved the best dress for the final night. “It’d look even better on the floor.”

He makes a face, and you giggle. “You’re such a fucking tease.”

“You’ve always known this about me,” you point out, sassily but also truthfully. Your freakiness, and his as well, was what naturally connected you two. Everything else that came after seems ordained at this point, like it was always meant to be. “Now stop trying to change the subject.”

He sighs loudly, offering a crumb. “I’m a bit tired, but I’m fine.”

“I know you’re exhausted, baby.” Frowning, you lift your hand to his cheek, beard prickly against your palm. “I really wish you would just take this week to rest. We can do Disney next month. I love Disney, Callie does too, but we love you more and care about your wellbeing more than the fucking mouse.”

It’s true. Nothing matters more to you than the wellbeing of all your family members, and especially Joe with how taxing his job already is.

He shakes his head, moving his other hand to your stomach. “I’ve waited too long already. I’m not waiting anymore, Y/N.”

His words confuse you, truly, because Disney only came up a couple months ago. What’s another month? “Joe—”

“Do you trust me?”

There’s a delay, not because you have to think about it, but because you know he’s about to shut this conversation down.

Voice soft but sure, you answer, “of course, I trust you, Joe.”

His gaze and expression soften as he affirms, “then trust I know what I’m doing, and I’m doing what I want to do.”

This sucks. Knowing there’s something he’s not telling you but that it’s clearly for good reasons. Still, being in the dark doesn’t rub you the right way. But, the last thing you want to do is have him in his head more than he already is, so you agree to drop it..

“Okay.” It’s not okay, but it’ll have to be okay for now.

It’s the same as before, seeing him out, the I love you’s between the two of you seeming a bit more meaningful, a lot heavier. Even watching his spectacular and majestic entrance, the camera panning on his face as he lifts his belt, you can’t shake that feeling that something doesn’t feel right.

———-

One

Two

Three

It doesn’t register. Not immediately, anyway. You know Joe, err, Roman. He’s adept at missing the pin by a margin of a millisecond, and you expect this to be no different, except it is.

Because Cody pins him.

He actually fucking pins him.

So many thoughts are racing through your head. The entire match had you on the edge of your seat, your mom, Bianca, and even Alexis having to remind you several times that Joe knows what he’s doing and everything will turn out fine.

It doesn’t help when Callie falls asleep, because then you can be a bit more expressive and open about your anxiety.

And then he’s fucking pinned.

Racing thoughts easily morph into heightened anxiety when the major thought focuses and clears up in your mind, obvious as fucking day.

Something is wrong.

You know enough about wrestling through your own fan interest and conversations with Joe that most matches are predetermined. However, there are times when the outcome is changed at the last minute, mostly due to unexpected serious injury.

And that’s what your mind lands on: Joe is injured. Enough to where they had to change the outcome of the match.

And that causes panic to rise throughout your whole body.

Moving carefully as Callie is sleeping peacefully on your lap, you ask your mom to sit with her because you need to go to Joe.

You need to see him.

The walk from the suite to the locker room area takes much longer than you’d like it to and only gives your anxiety time to multiply, not to mention the exacerbation by the boisterous sound of the crowd jamming to Cody’s theme song as they celebrate his win.

A win that should have never happened.

You’re so caught up in your head that you don’t even pay much attention to the fact Joe is in the middle of hugging his cousin when security leads you into his space.

His cousin, Dwayne freaking Johnson aka The Rock. Any other time, you’d be a bit starstruck, because kin to your man and daughter or not, he’s still a celebrity.

But, this isn’t the time for that.

As soon as they break apart, you manage to give Dwayne a little nod but immediately go back to hyperfocusing on Joe.

“What’s wrong?” Your hands naturally reach out to feel his shoulders, moving to his forearm. “Is it your wrist?” A thought crosses your mind, remembering a particularly looking nasty body slam into the table. “It’s your back, isn’t it?”

His eyes focus on you curiously as he answers, “I’m fine, Y/N.”

“Bullshit.” You’re not in the mood for his tendency to downplay injuries, not when this one just cost him so much. “You’re hurt. Why else would they change the match outcome?”

As soon as those words leave your mouth, it seems like something dawns on him. He motions to the trainers and others in the room to leave you two alone, a stupid decision considering he clearly needs to be checked out.

When the locker room clears, he speaks again, “Y/N, I’m not hurt, and they didn’t change the match outcome.” His eyes focus on you. “I asked Hunter to lose this match.”

A pause followed by a gasp. “Oh my god, you must have a concussion. Shit, you really need to be checked out.” You turn away for the door. “I’ll get the trainers—”

He calls your name, snatching your hand and pulling you back to him. “I’m not concussed. I know exactly what I’m saying. I met with Hunter and asked to be relieved of the title.”

There goes the racing thoughts that have now shifted from ‘Joe must be seriously hurt’ to ‘Joe must be significantly hurt.’ Because you can’t process what he's, objectively, explaining to you.

There’s no way he would ever…..

And then your mind wanders to a possibility.

“Does this have anything to do with the Mariah situation?” As much as you limited your media consumption during that nightmare, you still saw stuff, read how countless wrestling fans were demanding Joe be stripped of his title, saying that he was an “embarrassment” to the company and didn’t deserve to be the face of WWE. Eyes watering for reasons beyond your comprehension, your chest tightens, asking, “was it—was it because of me and—”

Immediately, he’s reaching for you, assuring, “baby, no, of course not.” He’s wiping at your tears. “I asked for this.”

Him repeating himself confuses you more, and makes you wonder if there was a hit to his head that you missed at some point. “Why–why do you keep saying that?” It’s not making any sense from the first time he said it to now. “Joe, you have to either be concussed or, God forbid, something worse because you clearly don’t know what you’re saying to me.” Shaking your head, you lay it out for him, hoping that maybe it’ll trigger something. “You’re seriously telling me that you asked to lose your title, a title you’ve held for almost four years, a title that’s allowed you to break Hulk Hogan, thee Hulk Hogan’s record, among many, in the main event at Wrestlemania.” Even saying it aloud is ludicrous, forcing out a small laugh at how ridiculous it sounds.

He can’t be for real.

But, then he says it again, just as clear as day. “Yes.”

And suddenly, you’re not as nervous or scared.

You’re pissed the fuck off.

Breaking away from him, you shake your head, doing your best to maintain your composure for the sake of where you are as well as the child growing inside you.

“You worked your ass off to get to where you are now, and you just walk away from it all for what?” It’s that lethal combination of anger and confusion, anger that he would do this to himself when he deserves the world and more. Confusion as to whatever logic he used to make this questionable decision. “What would possess you to—” And it’s then that it slowly dawns on you, that the light goes off. “Oh my god, Joe, you didn’t…..” You can only swallow, emotion washing away the anger. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

But, he tells you the complete opposite. “I’m on indefinite leave starting tomorrow.”

And suddenly everything makes sense. All the pieces start coming together. Trinity and Kaylah being weird and quickly backtracking when Trinity suggested you and Callie go on the road with Joe this summer.

The way all of them seemed to never understand your frustration with Joe for not wanting to start planning for the birth of your baby.

Why he’s been so dodgy about conversations regarding having help for this baby when he can’t be there.

They had to have known, known this was his plan, known that this is what he was going to do.

At a loss of words, you manage a question, one of many circling in your head. “Did you do it because of the baby?”

He shakes his head, pushing back your hair. “Y/N, I asked to lose the title as soon as I got back after meeting Callie for the first time.”

And the inability to process continues because it takes a good minute for you to take in what he just said. In a state of semi shock, mouth slightly ajar, you ask in an almost whispered tone, “what?”

Months…..that was months ago. And beyond that, the first damn time he met his daughter, a daughter he just found out about, he sacrificed the one thing he’d worked his whole life for.

This….this is unreal.

Swallowing with a level of emotion you know is only reserved for you, he further explains, “I knew the moment I met her that I wasn’t about to miss any more of her life that I already had.”

“Joe….” Emotion is a bitch, quickly climbing up and over the wall before you can catch it. Your eyes watering all over again.. “I never would have asked you to do this—-I didn’t want—”

He brings his hand to the back of your neck, quietly murmuring, “I know you wouldn’t have, but this was my decision, Y/N. This is what I wanted.” He repeats those now haunting words from earlier. “Do you know how many days I had off last year?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer. “35. 35 days out of the whole year. I can’t be a father to her or this baby a month out of the whole damn year. It’s not fair to her, to the baby, to you, or even me.” Determination fills his voice, as he shakes his head. “I want to be there to take her to school and help her with her homework and watch whatever random Disney movie she has on her mind for the day.” You laugh, not even bothering to stop the tears at this point. They’re inevitable. “And I want to be with you. We need time to focus on us. On this baby. Our family.” He moves his hand protectively to your stomach. “I’m not retiring. I’ll come back when the time is right, and I’ll still have creative input with the Bloodline while I’m away.”

Sniffling, you ask him what you already know to be true. “That’s why you would shut down my conversations about when the baby gets here, isn’t it?” Your voice cracks mid-sentence. “Because…because you knew you would be here for us.”

His gaze is so soft, so loving, so vulnerable. “You supported me when I needed it, now it’s my turn.” He nods, looking down at your conjoined hands on your belly. “I’m not missing anything else.”

And that’s what really does it for you. You throw your body against his, arms around his neck, while his easily go around you, holding you close to him.

“Thank you.” You’re such an emotional mess, largely due to pregnancy hormones but also because this is the most unexpected yet most wonderful thing that could have happened tonight. He’ll never understand what this means to you. He gave up his dream for you, for Callie, for this baby, for your family. How does one even have a word to describe just what that means? “Thank you so much.”

He holds you a little longer, murmuring how much he loves you. Joe then guides you on the next steps. “Let me finish up, so we can get out of here, okay?”

It feels almost silly to ask, but a part of you wants to hear him say it, needs to hear him say it. “We’re going home?”

He shakes his head, a warm smile on his handsome face. You’ve never felt happier than in this very moment.

“We’re going home, baby…”

#roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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staybabblingbaby · 3 months ago

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Best Friend Protocol #8 (SLEEP part)

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: You're Felix's childhood friend, and you and he have been planning a visit to see him for his birthday for what feels like years now. Unfortunately, SKZ is a very busy group, and the week-long vacation you'd planned for doesn't seem possible. Until Felix decides to ask his bandmates a favor...

Word Count: All images, so N/A. Unless someone wants to make these accessible but I don't really know how.

Notes: I guess we're doing extremes today lmao. Sorry, I had ideas and I was bored ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Enjoy (ﾉ>ω<)ﾉ :｡･:*:･ﾟ’★

Warnings: She/Her Reader.

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks

Additional Note: I have come to realize that my handle does not lend itself to an easy name. Feel free to just call me Babs. Does it stand for Babble? Baby? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ :) Also I am still soliciting title suggestions and interaction requests. Just fyi.

Masterlist | Prev Part | Next Part

Worm List! @thatgirlangelb ( (づ￣ ³￣)づ) @hyeon-yi , @missvanjii, @velvetmoonlght, @hanniemylovelyquokka @vegetablesarefuntables @scribblesnsketches05

Perma Tag List: the lovely @mbioooo0000 <3

#skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #skz fanfic #w.i.p fic #skz fic #w.i.p #baby writes #skz smau #stray kids smau #smau #skz fake texts #fake texts #stray kids fake texts #BFPSMAU

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1d1195 · 7 months ago

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Dolcezza Extra I

Read Dolcezza here | ~4.7k words

From me: this is something I’ve never done before: an alternate idea to something I've already written. I will be copying and pasting parts to keep the continuity but I hope you like it. It was pretty fun. The first couple paragraphs are from the original part. I’m sure you can all follow without me telling you all this. Have fun!

Warnings: stalking, scary (?) Also, no clue what kinds of protocols are supposed to be in place for this sort of thing. I don't think it makes a lot of sense logistically or law-wise. But that's not what we're here for, right?! I wanted it to kind of go right in the middle of Part 8, like starts in the beginning-ish part of it and end essentially in the same way.

It was one of those nights where everything was going wrong, and everything was too busy. Antonio was caring for Leo, the baby, and the missus—all sick with something Leo brought home from preschool, so Harry and Niall were left in charge. Normally, the sweet girl found her way down and situate herself at a station doing the takeout orders but given the little... spat (what else could he call it?) she seemed to be avoiding him.

His phone began vibrating in his pocket without pause for three full minutes, but he literally hadn’t a second to look at it. All he wanted was for the pretty girl to appear. He wanted to apologize profusely for overstepping. He just cared for her so much. Even if she wasn’t comfortable with how he handled things, he wanted to make it better. He cared so deeply for her it hurt to be apart from her without so much as a text message between them over the last two days. He managed to see her exit a car that wasn’t hers parked in her spot. At least her car was getting fixed. But he imagined she had another busy Friday and Saturday. He wished he could have helped more. Wished he didn’t mess up and revealed that he messed it up in a way he couldn’t fix it.

The moment the orders slowed, Harry was planning to race up her steps and beg for forgiveness.

Harry dropped a knife for the third time on the same onion he had been trying to dice for the last five minutes. He growled to himself, snagged it off the floor (nearly slicing his hand from his anger overtaking rational thought to pick it up by the handle), and all but tossed it in the sink.

“Why not just talk to her?” Niall muttered across the way.

“Shut up,” he snapped, bitterness coating his voice. Niall raised his eyebrows at him and shook his head. He turned the other way, turned his attention to the soup he was pouring into bowls. “M’going to,” he mumbled grabbing a clean knife as he started chopping again. “Sorry.”

He nodded. “It’s alright. Just thinking we could really use her help,” Niall smirked.

Harry snorted. “Y’could probably ask her,” he mumbled. “She’d come running t’help m’sure.”

“Yeah, but it defeats your whole she’s spreading herself too thin. And then I’m no different than rest, huh?”

Harry sighed, grateful for his understanding. “You’re a really good friend, Niall.”

“Don’t I know it,” he laughed. It was infectious. Hard to keep Harry in a bad mood and he prayed to God the orders slowed soon so he could run up and beg her to come help Niall and him because as much as he didn’t want to ask her for another thing, working with her on busy nights were some of his favorite moments.

Harry’s phone was still vibrating. He wondered if he set a timer for something and it was just going off continuously. “M’phone’s been ringing nonstop.”

“Mum?” Niall asked.

“No... she knows m’at work. Plus, she’d call the restaurant if it was an emergency. I gave her the number.”

“S’probably an alarm, yeah?”

“Yeah... probably.”

“Oh, she’s here,” Niall mumbled his gaze narrowing at the slip of paper in his hand. “Eggplant and two times the extra garlic bread…” Niall waved the ticket out like he always did when they realized the arrival of Harry’s Principessa.

Well, at least Harry wouldn’t have to sprint upstairs to apologize. Still, it was odd she didn’t make herself known when she got there even if they weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Harry glanced toward the window for a peek to see if she was there, but he was too far away. “Niall did you see her?” He asked.

“No…” his voice was low, over the bustle of the few staff that were in the kitchen, Harry hardly heard him. Like he was piecing a puzzle together. He was studying the slip. Like it would give him the hint.

“See who?” The hostess asked. She was grabbing a take-out order off the counter that Niall had just finished packaging. Niall slid the ticket into the holder still examining it.

“Principessa,” Niall mumbled. “She always orders extra garlic bread with her eggplant.”

“Oh yeah she’s here with her brother or something,” Antonio’s nephew, Matteo, jumped right into the conversation as he brought back empty plates from the dining room.

Harry’s head snapped up from the veggies he was cutting and tossing into a pot to make a sauce. “Brother...?” Harry didn’t think that made sense at all. He remembered seeing “James groceries” on her calendar while he cleaned earlier in the week. It was always done on a day when James had to work in the evening so there was no way he would have come all the way out here for dinner. Still, he thought Harry would have known if James was here—between his protective brother streak or even just saying hello and thank you for the food. Harry thought she would bring him right back here to the kitchen and make herself at home.

But maybe Harry misread it. Or maybe James finally suspected she was tired and strung out and was taking a step to help with his kind older sister.

“Well, it’s not dinner with you; so, who else would it be?” Matteo reminded them with a shrug.

Niall gasped dropping the plate he was holding, and it shattered to the ground. Everyone stopped to look at him and he grabbed the ticket once more. Like it finally revealed the missing clue. At the same time Harry dropped the fourth knife he was using because if Matteo hadn’t said “who else would it be” they might not have put it together right then.

Harry hurried to the window and searched. “Where’s she sitting?” His voice was hurried. There was a one second pause. “Matteo, now!”

“Corner, near the door. What’s—”

“Niall...” Harry’s body felt weak and shaky. His blood was hot and boiling immediately. His vision was getting blurry at the edges, and he had never felt so close to throwing up in his whole life. Not even when he had the flu in university.

Why was his phone vibrating still?

“Oh no,” he murmured reaching for the phone in his pocket.

“Shit!” Niall hissed looking at the direction of the man sitting across from the pretty girl all the way across the restaurant.

Harry slid his thumb across his phone without taking his eyes off the table across the main room. The weakness he felt ached through every inch in his body. “Eleanor, I—”

He yanked the phone away from his ear as she responded, loudly, shouting. “Harry! For the love of GOD! Do you never look at your phone!? Why do you even have one!?”

Harry felt sicker at the accusation. How could he not look at his phone? “El—”

“Harry it’s bad,” Eleanor sobbed, barely getting the words out. Harry could hear Louis shushing her as best he could. “It’s really bad.”

It was every one of Harry’s worst nightmares.

She was trying to process why the door was open. She quietly stepped back from her own door, but she wasn’t in control of her own body. Her heart was beating a little faster than normal. Her brain tried to reason with her muscles that there had to be a reasonable explanation. Instead, her muscles continued moving; she pressed the volume button on her phone to turn Eleanor’s voice down even though she continued rambling about how Harry adored her, and she was pretty sure he was in love with her too.

Not even the idea of Harry loving her could shake the nerves away.

“El... Eleanor,” she whispered listening intently to Antonio’s office door distinctly closing and three foreboding footsteps reaching her door. The clinking metallic sound of someone fiddling with the lock on her door came next. She had the phone pressed to her lips trying to soundlessly alert Eleanor as best she could as she scurried backwards as if the door was on fire. “El! STOP!” She hissed listening for more sound.

“What?” She could hear the eye roll in her friend’s voice. “You have to confront these emotions Harry is—” There was a low voice cursing outside her door as the lock was fiddled with more and she stepped back as the door opened. Her jaw dropped along with her phone smacking to the ground. She could faintly hear Eleanor calling at the sound of the noise.

The man before her smiled excitedly, relieved. “You’re home. I knew I’d find you,” he sighed with relief reaching for her. Instinctively she took a step back, it took every ounce of her self-control to keep from throwing up all over herself or the not-so-stranger. “I’m so glad I’ve found you; I missed you so much.”

Her heart was pounding erratically. Her only saving grace was knowing Eleanor heard. She reached for her phone. Autopilot. Grab the phone that clattered to the floor.

He kicked it out of the way. “You don’t need that,” he assured her with an easy smile. She straightened; cleared her throat.

“I…don’t?” She whispered. She should have spoken louder so Eleanor could hear. Of course, she loved her apartment, and she loved Antonio and the little family he invited her to be part of that was Dolcezza. Right then, however, she wanted to cry that her apartment was soundproofed beyond auditorial recognition. Her eyes dropped to the fabric in his hand. She swallowed the bile that continued rising in her throat while he looked at her as if he had known her his whole life.

“No,” he shook his head.

Her mind wasn’t working. She was exhausted and terrified and poor Eleanor was screaming from the other end of the line. He grabbed the phone. “Hi Eleanor,” he said simply. “She’s okay. We’re going on a trip, she’ll be safe with me,” he assured her.

Then he left her phone on the side table. Hanging up and leaving it there. It started to vibrate immediately; Eleanor desperate to hear her answer again. Instead, he ignored it, held his hand out for her to take. “I need my stuff—” she stepped toward her bedroom, but he grabbed her arm. She yanked it away, like he burned her. She gasped at the touch, and he frowned.

“Sorry—”

Her fight or flight kicked in and she bolted for the bathroom. It would lock and she would drop from the second story if necessary or scream until Harry heard her.

Oh. Harry.

Right as she tried to slam the door shut behind her his foot got in the way. She yelped as he grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the room. “Honey, stop fighting me,” he grumbled bitterly. She felt so sick. So scared. She wanted to scream and cry but it would be useless. No one would hear her. She needed to make someone hear her.

Slowly, painfully slowly, her brain started to work. It wasn’t much. But she prayed silently to herself that it would be. She took a shaky inhaled breath. “I’m…sorry,” her voice cracked, and tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t look at him. She was too scared. It was a nightmare, but she could feel the way her teeth bit into her cheek. It wasn’t something she would be waking up from. “I’ve had a really long week and a really long day. I haven’t eaten yet,” she whispered. “I was going to go downstairs and eat at the restaurant,” she sniffled. “Can we do that? A date?” It tasted sour in her mouth to say it. Her fingernails dug into her palms reminding her further it was a nightmare. It had to work. Please let it work.

“A date?” He mused. He stuffed the fabric in his hands into the pocket of his pants.

“Please,” she whispered. “I’m starving.”

“And then we can go to my place?”

The idea was so nauseating, so terrifying, she worried that it wouldn’t work. If the food got to her table, she was so incredibly scared she wouldn’t be able to eat it. Her whole body felt shaky and clammy. Like when she had the flu. One bite and she would be puking all over her table.

But hopefully that would get Harry’s attention.

“Okay,” he agreed and held his hand out for her to take. It felt like cheating on Harry to hold someone else’s hand. She forced the tears behind her eyes and willed the nausea to stay in the pit of her stomach.

She placed her hand in his.

Harry was pacing trying to figure out how to tell her he knew. Niall was on the phone with the police begging for no sirens and no lights. Eleanor was, in the smallest of possible ways, relieved to hear she was in the restaurant and not halfway to somewhere they didn’t know.

Harry couldn’t see her face. It killed him. Why didn’t he go up sooner? Why didn’t he beg for her to come down and help so they could make up? Why didn’t he insist and help her stubborn self the way he wanted to?!

“Goddamnit!” He shouted and shoved a bin of clean cutlery on the floor. It was so loud the restaurant ceased to make noise for a prolonged moment.

“Harry,” Niall was off the phone with the police Eleanor sobbing in his other ear no doubt. “You need to be smart. They cannot leave before the police get here or we’re fucked. Eleanor already sent the detective on her case to his old place of residence and there is no sign of him there. So, if they leave…” he trailed off and Harry released a strangled noise from his throat. Not quite a cry, not quite a yell. The pain was so intense from the thought he thought he could feel it in the atoms of his body. “If you cannot have a controlled response...,” Niall warned without finishing the sentence.

Harry swallowed the feeling of being sick down. He knew what Niall meant. “Okay,” he croaked.

Everyone was still trying to work. But the whispers ensued. Within moments, everyone knew. Everyone was trying to piece together a plan and Harry felt so confused, so lost, so scared because the only one he could ever imagine getting out of this situation was his sweet Principessa herself.

“Alright,” he cleared his throat. He needed to be brave. She needed him. She never needed anyone. The weight of that made him terrified. Shaking his head he pressed the heels of his palms in his eyes to stop the stressed tears from escaping. He swallowed and shook his head again. She did the hard part. She got herself in the restaurant and Harry’s attention without even talking to him. “Niall, bring out the garlic bread in three minutes,” he ordered while untying his apron and heading for the door to the alleyway. “Tell Eleanor to tell the detective to hurry.”

The restaurant was easily one of her top five favorite places in the world. But right now, she wanted to scream and run from it. Where was Harry or Niall?! God, she wanted to kill Matteo. How did he not know? Wasn’t everyone under a silent direction to tell Harry when she arrived?

The worry began to take over. Harry wasn’t coming to her rescue because he didn’t want to. She pushed him away and he was going to let—

No.

Harry, despite how mad he might have been, would never let anything happen to her. She was certain.

Wasn’t she?

Perhaps Harry really just didn’t know. It was unfortunate, but there was nothing she could do about it. Especially without any indication that anyone knew she was there. Her back was to the restaurant, and she was still in her gym clothes. With her back turned, hair in a ponytail, she was probably less recognizable than normal. That had to be it. He had no idea she was there.

It was a miracle she could keep her breathing as even as she did. The thoughts started to spiral further. Maybe he wouldn’t know. It was really busy in the restaurant—Matteo might not have noticed she was there with a stranger when he seated them since the hostess wasn’t there. Maybe he didn’t tell Harry yet.

Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears it was hard to hold a conversation with him almost because she couldn’t hear him; more so than the fact that she didn’t want to talk to him. But she didn’t have a choice. He asked her about work, her family, and if she had been reading anything good. She wasn’t into it—it was obvious and she wished she was because the only thing that was going to save her was being able to play it off that she didn’t want to crawl out of her skin at the sight or sound of him. Her stomach was churning, and her voice was so quiet she wished she could do a better job acting but she was terrified. Pain started behind her eyes, and she wanted to scream.

“Good evening.”

Her head snapped up to Harry briefly, who seemingly appeared out of thin air. Her jaw dropped silently. She was really beginning to believe that he wasn’t coming to her rescue. But now he was there. He knew she was there. He was going to help. She was sure of it.

He knew she was there.

Her heart started to pound in a new way, still scared but for the first time in twenty minutes she took a deep cleansing breath; relieved. She looked at her lap afraid to give it away that she knew him. “We are very short staffed this evening. We’re extremely sorry for the delay,” Harry sounded so formal, and she couldn’t look at him. If she did, she would cry. “Your food will be out as soon as we can. Please be patient with us. We’re very sorry.”

If she looked up, she knew his eyes would be looking at her. She knew his apologies weren’t about the food. The gravity in his voice said he was sorry because he didn’t know she was there sooner. He was sorry he didn’t come upstairs or to her rescue faster. A tear slipped across her cheek. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “Do you have a bathroom?” She asked.

“I don’t think—”

“Of course,” Harry interrupted hurriedly; she could practically hear the excitement in his voice. Like he was grateful she had a plan because he was a little stuck, a little lost. It made her feel weak immediately. The worry Harry must have felt because of her made her feel guilty and sad. She wanted to fix it and it was hard she felt like she was balancing on a tightrope. She hoped Harry wouldn’t hate her for running the second she had the opportunity. “I’ll lead you,” he offered.

“You just used the bathroom upstairs, honey,” the man reminded her. His voice was tight.

He was going to be mad if she left; that much was evident. “Well, I just—” She started.

“She’s all set, actually. Thank you.”

Harry stared at him. Weighing his options. She could see it. She cleared her throat. “Um...it’s okay,” she whispered quietly. Refusing to look at Harry again. If she did, she was going to blow what little cover she had. Poor Harry. “M’just a little tired,” she assured him, trying to sound braver than she felt.

“S’back and to the left,” Harry murmured and then headed to the next table and explained the short-staffed shift again. She wondered what he was thinking and what he was saying to the table. They looked like regulars, but she wasn’t completely sure because her mind was frazzled. Harry leaving her to fend for herself, even though he was only four feet away at most had her aching for him more than she ever wanted to hold his hand in her whole life.

Harry was losing his mind. He knew she understood his apology for taking so long. He knew that she understood between the lines that he was apologizing for Matteo’s mistake in not telling him sooner. Harry would have been out in the dining room so much faster. As much as it pained him to see her seated across from another man, regardless of the circumstances. It would have been better if she was with another guy in general. At least he wouldn’t be worried sick about her safety.

It took every bit of his strength to keep blowing their cover. To keep from shaking while he told the next table that they were short-staffed. They quietly inquired about the strange man sitting with the sweet girl they all had grown to know as their sometimes-waitress and Harry’s lovely Principessa. He quietly murmured something and then casually bumped into the table dropping the knife near the edge to the floor. As he bent to grab it, he murmured to the guy, pleaded with his eyes as he tried to whisper devoid of emotion. “Do not let her leave with him.”

Harry moved to the next table—strategically he chose the tables that allowed him to keep her in his peripheral. It was killing him. The shaking was becoming uncontrollable, and the whisper beg to the couples, imploring for help from the people he had gotten to know over the years, was getting strangled in his throat as he moved to the third and fourth table.

He was at a loss. The bathroom was a great idea, but he hadn’t a clue as to how to get her from point A to point B. Maybe he could pour hot soup on her, insist she come to the kitchen for help. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to spill their hot soup in her lap either. He supposed he could throw ice cubes in it and make it less horrible on her delicate skin, but he had to do something! His mind was spiraling. He wouldn’t see her in his peripheral in just two more tables and he was already about triple the distance of what he wanted to be from her—granted even an inch of space given the scenario seemed more horrific than he could bear.

He was feeling nauseous. Maybe he should just grab her by the hand and pull her away. But they had a chance to get rid of him. To keep him away from her once and for all. He violated the restraining order. That had to be something. He would have to go away.

Despite the fact she was so close but felt like an entire galaxy away. Harry was crumbling internally. This poor older woman who had been coming in every Saturday for years looked at him with pity in his eyes as he repeated his spiel once more. The agony he felt was in every inch of his bones, every pore of his skin. His eye was twitching.

When he got her safe and out of harm’s way, he planned on never letting go of her. At least not for a few days. He was going to kiss her and hold her. Apologize to her and cook for her. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. Harry was going to tell her he loved her and didn’t care if she was stubborn or felt like she was hard to care for because she didn’t like to be needy. He was needy. He needed her. It was killing him to be so close and so far away. So helpless and terrified that he couldn’t help her the way he wanted to right then. Even scared shitless, he thought she was beautiful and brave. So brave. She got here. She got his attention. That had to mean something. She believed in Harry and that he would find her or know she was there despite the frustration and anxiety she felt.

It was hard to believe it was only three minutes since he actually talked to her and apologized for taking so long. Niall came from the back with a plate of garlic bread as promised. Niall was going to come up with the next part of the plan, Harry hoped. Hell, he would go back to the table, feigning exhaustion for apologizing twice. God, he needed to get a bowl of soup, he was going to have to spill it in her lap! It was the only way.

Harry listened intently as Niall arrived at their table. He could almost see the glitter of her tears in her eyes. Nearly crying again at the sight of Niall. He wanted to make a joke more than anything that it had nothing to do with Niall but everything to do with her favorite bread in his hands. But he was mortified. Speechless in front of a table waiting with waited breath as they heard the murmurs and the wisps of what Harry managed to mumble before Niall’s arrival.

“Garlic bread,” he announced, as if she didn’t know. “Buon appetite,” he winked casually. He was far better at lying and acting than Harry or herself combined. She was itching to run. Niall and Harry, both could stop him. Someone would tackle him, right? She was fluttery. Ready to leave as soon as she saw an opening because she didn’t know what else to do. “Can I get you two anything else?” Niall asked kindly.

“I know you,” he said. It lacked suspicion but was no less terrifying.

She could see Harry’s back straightened in her peripheral and his speech silenced. Matteo and the hostess were working from the other end of the room at the same time. Probably explaining the situation to every table as quietly as they could just like Harry was.

Without any tell in sight, Niall merely tilted his head and looked at him. “Hmm...sorry. M’not sure I recognize you,” he shrugged. Niall stepped closer, getting a better look at the man across from her. His acting skills deserved an award.

But in moving closer, Niall also blocked her a good margin from his view. It was her chance. She bolted. Running from the main room and toward the kitchen so fast it took a minute for anyone to realize she was gone. She zipped out the kitchen door, back through the alley, and up to her apartment. She heard a shout coming quickly behind her, so she had to be faster. She hurried back into her apartment unable to do anything but grab her phone off the table and run into the bedroom and hide in the closet, closing the door quietly behind her. She dialed Eleanor. Her heart pounding as she heard the sound of steps. She left the door open to make it look like she ran back out, but it was impossible.

He was already in the apartment. Already tearing through her belongings, shouting, upending her furniture, and rifling through everything.

“Babe?” Eleanor nearly screeched with relief.

“I can’t talk,” she whispered barely an audible octave.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay on the phone,” she promised. “The police are on their way.”

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