#I will fucking write it don’t you test me

[randombush3]

que te quiero

alexia putellas x reader

prologue

summary: you wake up but you're not sure where

words: 3217

content warnings: just you fucking wait

notes: i slaved away to get this out asap lol

They list your injuries in an awkwardly ascending order: best to worst. You suppose the doctor’s callousness is more professional than malicious – and maybe it’s a good thing he isn’t panicking at the sight of such long, uninteresting words – but he makes it sound clinical (his job) and it’s hard to remember not everyone feels the excruciating pain you are slowly growing accustomed to. 

You wince at your thoughts’ poor choice of words. 

Apparently, you don’t remember much. In the week that you’ve been awake, you’ve been subject to every test, question, and assessment possible, all answers coming out with the same result. 

You know your name and when you were born. You know that you have a degree in Literature, but that you’re now a lawyer with an extensive library instead. You can speak all the languages you’ve ever learnt (that’s a different part of your brain, says the doctor when you ask how). They ask about your parents, your brothers, and names easily roll off your tongue, the childhood fear of hospitals still present (god, there is something that you wish had been forgotten). 

Still, the nurses approach you with sympathetic smiles, replicating the expression when they converse quietly with the worried-looking woman who visits you every day. She’s called Alexia, she tells you, staring at the gap between you as though she is a stranger to being so far apart. 

Although it was blurry when you first woke up, once Alexia reveals her name, you’re certain you recognise her.

“I’ve seen her somewhere,” you tell your favourite nurse, chipper that you’ve worked it out. In an attempt to jog your memory, you’ve kept the small TV in the corner of your section of the ward on all afternoon, sort of missing the noise your committed visitor brings with her. “And she’s not here today, Isa, because she’s there.” You point at a figure running around on a football pitch. “Alexia Putellas. She’s famous!” It explains the secrecy and the inexplicable absences. You suppose a slightly different structure of her job allows her to visit at unconventional times, too. 

“Mm,” Isa hums, not quite committed to this conversation. “Let’s save the discoveries for your chat with the doctor, yeah? He should be here any minute now.” 

On cue, the pot-bellied man appears, clipboard in hand, bottom lip between his teeth. His perception leads his gaze to the TV, which, in turn, causes him to watch your reaction to the match. Growing insecure of his scrutiny, you press a button and watch the screen go black. 

“Good afternoon,” comes his greeting, clipped and determined to not waste time. You try to find comfort in that: maybe you aren't in the worst shape in this hospital. “How are your ribs feeling?” 

“Battered.” 

He writes that down. “You’re on the highest dosage of pain medication. We’ll need to start weaning you off soon, too. Especially due to a family history of addiction.” Your eyebrows furrow, and his pen scratches at the paper once again. “Okay, Y/n. Can I have a seat? Are you comfortable?” 

You take a moment to acknowledge the ache in your abdomen and head. He assumes your silence is a ‘yes’ and Isa is dismissed. “You shouldn’t be looking at any screens,” he says calmly, with the faintest hint of disappointment. “It will not aid your recovery.” 

“How am I supposed to remember anything if I can’t use… sources to help me?” you protest. 

“That is exactly what I have come here to discuss. We’ll start bit by bit. The more open you are to this, the quicker you will be released from hospital.” He smirks. “And I know that you are desperate to leave.” 

…

The stands of the stadium echo with jubilation as the final whistle blows. Alexia barely hears it due to the noise, still reeling from her penalty, proud to have scored in front of such a special guest. She’d made an ‘A’ with her fingers as she had celebrated. 

Despite her teammates’ dallying on the pitch, never in a rush after a win like this, Alexia is jumping the barrier and barreling through the crowd to get to the seats she’s been keeping an eye on for the whole match. Her mother is barely offered a ‘hello’ before Alexia is wrapped in a tight embrace. She won’t admit that the force of the impact winds her a little. 

“You played so well!” squeals Amaia, voice muffled in the sweat-soaked jersey. She seems almost giddy, which is a hefty improvement considering your current situation. 

Alexia laughs, bending down to Amaia’s level, her hands resting on the girl’s shoulders. Tears prick at her eyes but she hopes it isn’t that obvious. “You saw my penalty, right?” 

She’s met with enthusiastic nodding, Amaia’s eyes widening with excitement. “Vaig veure la A! It was for me, right?” 

“For you,” Alexia confirms, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Amaia’s head. Despite her efforts, the softness of the girl’s hair – the way she clings once more to Alexia’s body – is disarming. And Amaia speaking Catalan always gets her emotional. 

She wipes her tears when Amaia pulls away. 

This is difficult. Alexia is trying her hardest, but nothing is the same without you. She finds herself looking at the seat beside Amaia, expecting to see it filled by you, but it’s not; it’s empty. You are still at the hospital. You don’t even remember who Alexia is. 

You don’t remember the past eleven years, they think. Which means no Amaia, no Alexia, no Barcelona. 

It has broken Alexia’s heart. 

Her mother places a hand on her shoulder. “Go and get changed,” she instructs gently, in the same way she has been since the accident. Eli has become an engine, a guide. “Alba said she’d meet us at the restaurant.” 

Alexia swallows, embracing her mother. In her ear, she whispers, “I think it’s time for Amaia to see her.” Her mother’s touch remains firm, grounding her. She breathes out, and it is only now that her lungs ache that she feels like she can no longer hold it together. But Alexia is determined, and she will not crumble. 

Not in front of your daughter. 

“It’s your decision, Ale,” Eli murmurs back, her tone steady and calm. She’s seen how tirelessly Alexia has navigated these past weeks, juggling her team, her grief, her hope – all while trying to keep Amaia’s life as normal as possible. “You have done everything you can. If you think she’s ready, she’ll be ready.”

Alexia pulls back and nods, a quiet determination settling over her face. The thought of bringing Amaia to the hospital without the stability of a coma to predict her reaction has been weighing on her ever since you woke up. But, even though this step is more of a stumble, it seems to be in the right direction. 

"Now, go and get out of this kit. Amaia and I can only pretend you don’t smell for so long," Eli jokes, hand guiding her toward the locker rooms. Amaia is practically bouncing at Alexia’s side as they make their way down the tunnel, still buzzing with excitement over the game and ten goals scored. 

Not everyone is so plagued by misfortune in their personal lives – a reminder which is stark as Alexia passes the conga line of her teammates, all thrilled with their (superfluous) scoreline and exploiting the night off that Pere has allowed right from the get-go. A few of the girls wave at their captain as she walks past, but most feel uncomfortable shoving their elation in her face, aware of the shitstorm she is going through. 

The girls do keep plaguing her about what you had thought of their ‘Get Well Soon’ card, though. Not that Alexia has found an appropriate time to give it to you yet.

“Will she be awake?” Amaia suddenly asks, her voice breaking Alexia’s thoughts. Her expression is open, hopeful. Her eyes have the same shine as yours do in this light. 

Alexia glances down, her lips forming a soft, bittersweet smile. "We’ll see, Amaia," she says, brushing a stray lock of hair from the girl’s face. "We’ll visit, and we’ll see."

Inside the locker room, Alexia changes quickly, her mind already racing ahead to the visit. She imagines you there, perhaps looking out the window or glancing at her with that blank confusion that still cuts her deeper than she’d expected. The nurses have told her that you’re growing more restless with each day, becoming harder to occupy. You sound like a pain in their arses, which is comforting, because at least you are still you. And your questions! Alexia is unsurprised that the doctors rock-paper-scissor for ward duty. 

When she emerges, mood lifted by the thought of you continuing to be a nightmare, Eli and Amaia are waiting by the door, Amaia now clutching a small bouquet of flowers that must have been retrieved from Eli’s car while Alexia was changing. She’s holding them proudly, as if they might be a magic cure, as if a burst of colour is exactly what’s needed to bring you back.

“Ready to go?” Amaia asks, instinctively high-fiving Mapi as she walks out with Alexia. 

“Exciting plans, Capi?” her friend questions. Alexia’s look says it all. Mapi lowers her voice, allowing only Alexia to hear her; “you are strong. You will be strong.” 

“Let’s go,” prompts Amaia. Her impatience was very much inherited. 

After shooting an unconvincing look of confidence to her friend, Alexia nods, holding out her hand for Amaia to take. “Okay, okay. Say goodbye to Eli.” 

Kisses are exchanged. Alexia promises to come for dinner, even if she will be late. 

Amaia plays Taylor Swift in the car. The whiny music gives Alexia a bit of a headache, but at least it’s loud enough to dull the absolute din of her screaming thoughts. And when they arrive, it’s all too familiar for Alexia’s liking. 

She has her route to you memorised. It’s magnetic and intrinsic, and a desperate part of her is clawing at the hope that, somehow, you will have regained everything that has been lost in the day she hasn’t seen you. Before entering the ward, she tries to prepare Amaia, but the girl is as unstoppable as you can be and there is no intervening before she is at your bedside, greeting you like you remember who she is. 

…

A lot of what the doctor tells you are things you struggle to believe. Like, last year, you were made junior partner of the law firm you work at. They’re based in London. You used to live there – you moved after you’d finished your degree, bored of Bilbao and of home and of knowing every person in your world. Another confusing one: your brothers actually visit you, as though you are forgiven. 

Which sparks an aged memory. Two lines in the bathroom at the university. 

“Am I pregnant?” you ask, feeling the colour drain from your face at the idea that you might have lost the baby in the accident. 

The doctor waits patiently for you to remind yourself that eleven years have passed. 

“I was pregnant.” Nothing comes back to you, though this would be an appropriate moment for it to. The rest of the story hangs loosely at the back of your throat, unable to be spoken. You look at the doctor for help. “Did I keep it? I’m not – I wasn’t planning to.” 

“She’s called Amaia.” 

“Amaia…” you repeat. A painful realisation settles in you. How did you feel about becoming a mother? Why did you? When did they forgive you, and was it because of her? 

“Your mother’s name, I believe,” continues the doctor, “although you can remember that.” 

“I barely knew my mother.” She had died when you were very young. She didn’t feel like yours to grieve. To you, it was just time off school, hospital visits, and watching the rest of your world fall apart. You find yourself swallowed up in guilt – anger. How did you let this happen? How could you forget what must have mattered the most? “I want to see her,” you resolve, attempting to sit upright and pretend the movement doesn’t send a searing pain through your chest. “My… I want to know what she looks like.” 

Your patience need not extend for too long, as Alexia and Amaia arrive only two hours after the doctor departs. 

The sterility of the ward is no match for the warmth they exude, and you can almost sense them coming. It’s both comforting and unsettling. You refrain from telling Alexia that you know who she is. 

You have no time to, really, because there is a girl, average height with a bouquet in-hand, barreling towards you the moment you lay your eyes on your visitors. She’s loud enough to make you wince, which, in turn, earns her a sharp warning from Alexia, even further away than usual. She is watching you closely, awaiting your reaction. Her arms are folded across her chest, hair scraped into a damp ponytail, and she is withholding the emotion she wants to express because Alexia, you’ve learnt, isn’t really that kind of person. You often find yourself wondering how she first opened up to you. How long did it take? 

You want to ask, but Amaia – Amaia – begins to speak. Her voice is unfamiliar, her accent failing to reflect any time in Bilbao she might have spent with you. She speaks at first in Spanish. You hardly hear what she is saying, too focused on examining her features. 

She does look like you. Or, rather, pictures of you from years ago. Your father’s eyes, your nose. A smile that you can’t help but reciprocate. You try to remember what her father looked like, but nothing comes to mind and Amaia seems to have been unresponsive to his genes.

“Amaia,” you interrupt, not to cut her off but to test her name on your tongue. It’s foreign to you, but it suits her. She beams. 

“Do you remember me?” 

And what the actual fuck do you say to that? 

Your hesitation is telling. Alexia stiffens from where she had relaxed on the fringes on the section. 

“It’s okay if you don’t.” You look up at her, unaware that you had bowed your head in the first place. She has kind eyes, you think. And she must be clever, because it is not what she says, but that she says it in Euskera. 

“I missed you,” you say. It slips out, but you mean it. Well, you assume you missed her, and therefore it is a logical thing to come out with. And, also, you are aching inside from seeing the life that you have created standing right in front of you. A life you were not going to pursue. 

Amaia does not cry, but she delicately unfurls your clenched palms and shapes her hands to link with yours. You want her touch to bring it all back. It feels like jumping off a skyscraper when you are met with nothing, still. Instead of the flood of recollection you long for, there is a faint, ungraspable feeling of something you cannot name. 

After a silent pause, a movement in your peripheral vision catches your attention. Alexia steps forwards, her arms still crossed, her expression unsure and more than a little guarded. There is a sudden swell of gratitude in your chest, more for her presence than anything specific, and, without thinking, you smile at her. 

“Congratulations,” you say, voice just above a whisper as though Amaia will be unable to hear. “I saw you on the TV. You scored, didn’t you?” 

Alexia’s eyes widen a fraction as she glances at Amaia, who is proudly informing you, “ez behin, baizik eta bitan”. Alexia manages a small, almost bashful smile, her hand coming up to rub the back of her neck. For a woman so publicly celebrated, she seems to struggle to handle your praise. 

“Thanks,” she says awkwardly, eyes not quite meeting yours. “It… wasn’t a huge match but,” she grimaces at the sound of her voice, “I wanted to play my best for, well, for you guys. Amaia was there, and you… Well, I suppose you were watching it on TV.” She doesn’t feel inclined to show you the band of pre-wrap around her wrist with your name written on it, hiding it under the sleeve of her hoodie, or tell you that you were there with her, like you always are. 

Something tugs at your heart. It’s obvious that she is desperately holding back emotions, likely for Amaia’s sake. She looks away for a moment, regaining her composure, then turns back to you with a steadier expression. Amaia glances between you both, unnervingly perceptive for a girl so young. She squeezes your hands a little tighter. 

In the silence that follows, Alexia finally speaks up again. “I… didn’t want to crowd you, but,” her tone drops into something more serious, “I’ll be back again tomorrow, and, actually… Your doctor and I have been discussing the idea of you coming home soon.” 

The word hits you like a bullet from too close a range; it’s almost too fast to register before the damage is done. 

You don’t even know where you live. In your mind, you have never been to Barcelona, let alone have a home here. And yet there is an inexplicable warmth in Alexia’s voice that makes the idea feel… less absurd. 

She clears her throat. “In three days, if you’re ready,” she softly adds, eyes glimmering with hope in a fearful way. 

Later, Alexia stands just outside the ward, talking quietly with your doctor as Amaia sits nearby, focused on the little bouquet of flowers she brought for you, picking at a petal here and there. Alexia watches your daughter for a moment, the girl’s calm focus oddly grounding. 

“She’ll need a lot of rest and minimal stress,” the doctor says, drawing Alexia’s attention back to him. “But it’s promising. Her physical recovery is progressing, and though her memory may take longer, familiar environments could help.”

Alexia nods, though the doctor’s words bring only partial relief. “I can make things as calm as possible for her at home,” she says, trying to avoid sounding like a child begging for a present she knows she will not receive. “We have spare rooms, and lots of pictures to look over. And she hates hospitals. You’re lucky to have her disorientated, else she’d be kicking up a big fuss.”

The doctor lets out a tired laugh, but makes no attempt to agree that you haven’t made his life slightly more difficult than it needed to be already. “It will be an adjustment for everyone, but it is important that you are looking after yourself too.” 

Alexia’s gaze drifts back to the door of your room, and she swallows hard, steeling herself. The doctor’s words linger but they do nothing to curb her determination. She would do anything for you, and if you fell for her once, you can fall for her again. 

After another quiet moment, the doctor pats her arm lightly. “Three days, then. We’ll make sure she’s as prepared as she can be.”

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. you should call into work if that ain’t too much to ask, i could pour you up a drink and we could burn somethin’.

03, CHAPTER THREE. COME THROUGH.

ju speaks. late chapter again lol and this election fucked me uuup but thank God for writing as a distraction. you can expect another part between now and monday mayyybe… i have some free time. pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. same old + sexual innuendos (we’re very familiar with my edging game).

present day, may 2025.

paige: yo 6:23pm

wyd?

nailea text me back bro 6:29pm

nailea: hmmm

busy

paige: busy my ass

nailea disliked a message

nailea: i’ve been at work all day. some of us don’t get to just play basketball, madison 😓

paige: ohhh is that right?

i’ll have you know i work hard af ma

nailea: hard enough for a reward?

paige loved a message

paige: bring that ass over here nai

nailea: i’ve got emails to finish

paige: they’ll be there tomorrow

i’m here right now. waitin on you actually

nailea: maybe i have been thinking ab it 6:32pm

paige: mhm?

well you ain’t gotta think no more let’s just do

nailea laughed at a message

nailea: you’re really ridiculous

paige: come over and tell me that to my face

nailea: depends on what you got there

a girl needs incentives

read 6:35pm

paige: i got plenty

few drinks, maybe roll up too. thought that might get you

nailea: it’s a start

send the address, i’ll come through when i’m done

paige loved a message

i sink back into the couch, letting my head rest against the arm, my feet comfortably draped across paige’s lap. the last few days, i tried to keep myself busy, focus on work, ignore the way my phone would vibrate and my thoughts would jump straight to her. the same old game. she’d sent a few texts, nothing too serious, just little things to test the waters i guess, and when she called yesterday, talking about how much she missed me, i could already tell she was pulling me back in, trying to see if that thread between us would hold.

paige kept her word, though—i can give her that. i said i’d answer, and she made sure i’d have a reason to. she knew exactly what to say, and it’s a shame that she always does, really. it’s messed up, but it works. i can’t say i haven’t missed this, either. the way she can look at me and make me forget everything i swore i’d remember, every reason i should’ve walked away.

and now, here we are, the sun setting behind her window and casting everything, even her, in some warm, orange glow that only makes her look all the more attractive. it’s like the universe is playing along, trying to romanticize something i know i should be more careful with. there’s an old celtics game playing on the tv, but neither of us is really paying attention to it. i watch her more than the screen, notice the way her fingers brush absentmindedly over my leg, the way she insists that she should be the one to hold the joint to my lips.

paige leans back, and her hand has inched from my ankle to a casual spot on my bare thigh. we’re both too deep in drinks and hits to make sense of it, but i’m not sure i would’ve said anything even if i was sober. she’s wearing one of her uconn tees, which i guess you could call old now, the shirt hugging her arms a little tight. her hair’s falling over her shoulders, looking a little shriveled but still perfect, and every time she glances at me, she wears this smug little smirk.

“…feels like everything i knew it’d be. more work and pressure than it seems, but you know me,” paige says, her grin turning a little self-satisfied, like she’s relishing every second of her own success. we’ve been catching up—if that’s what you’d call it—for awhile now. i should probably leave soon, sober up and drive home. i’m not that far. but i don’t want to.

she drags her tongue slowly over her bottom lip, eyes hazily drifting back over to me. “what about you, huh?” she asks. “you got that insane move up. what’s that been like?”

i roll my eyes, tilting my head against the couch arm to look at her. “it’s not that insane.”

paige grins, shrugging and taking a sip of her lazy attempt at a cocktail. i’d offered to make them myself, honestly not trusting the blonde to not fuck it up, but she’d insisted, hostess duties or something.

“still sounds like a pretty big deal. you’re all professional and shit now,” she rambles, and i can’t help but chuckle at her choice of words.

i shake my head, hiking one of my legs up. “it’s not like i’m paige bueckers or anything,” i tease, a stupid, huge smile on my face. how is she able to bring out the worst and the best in me? “no one’s asking me to sign their shoes after a meeting.”

she laughs, eyes half-lidded and glassy, gaze intimidatingly lingering on me just a little too long. “bet you got your own version of that, though. people hangin’ on your every word, just tryna get a second of your time. don’t lie.”

i shrug, eyes shooting away from her. i don’t get how she does it. “i mean, it’s been good,” i admit. “long hours, but it’s nice to finally get involved the way i always wanted to, y’know?”

her hand shifts a little on my thigh, just enough to remind me it’s there, and i glance down. “coulda called that years ago,” she murmurs, barely louder than a whisper. then, it’s silent for a moment. just long enough for me to think of something else to ask her before she beats me to it. “you happy?”

i swallow, suddenly feeling a little hot in the face. “i am,” i reply after a pause, furrowing my eyebrows with a nod, almost like i’m trying to convince myself of it. “the dream, right?” i let out a breathy laugh, and paige smiles.

it’s silly to think that the both of us could recall that conversation like it was yesterday. but this wasn’t the dream. not the one we had when we were kids. just our own fucked up, adult version of it. and somehow, someway, we’re still here. somehow, someway, we still can’t let it go.

“and the people? they treat you right?” she sounds like she really cares, but is still trying not to press too hard.

“everyone’s good. most of them, anyway.” she can probably see through every word i say. pick up on the way i describe everything as good. i hesitate, looking back up at her. “never thought i’d be this close with a pro team after graduating, that’s for sure.”

“bro, ‘kea really don’t play ‘bout you,” paige laughs, but she’s serious. rickea’s one of the first people i got close with during my internship, contrary to belief. i was barely around the team then, too. “and maya’s been talking all kinds of good about you since cam’s party.”

i can feel my face flush, and i shift to sit up next to her, suddenly acutely aware of how close i am to paige, how tangled up i’ve let myself become. the mention of her name has clearly been a sore subject. i’m not sure why i feel so guilty, paige was mine first, but my mind flashes to her anyway, and then to paige, who’s probably hearing everything maya’s been saying about me, while i’m here, in the middle of all of it.

i don’t wanna ask what she’s been saying, and i surely don’t wanna press further into how deep paige and maya might be. ignorance is bliss, right? but shouldn’t it be my business? is paige still my business?

instead, i force a shrug. “i mean, it’s not like we’re on the same level,” i say, clearly selling myself a little short. maya’s been here longer, knows what she’s doing better than i do. credit never hurt.

paige doesn’t say anything. she inches just a little bit closer, and the sound of a sold out stadium of cheers from tatum’s three pointer is suddenly going in one ear and out the other. a small smirk tugs at her lips, and she tilts her head, eyes not sure what to focus on as she rubs up and down on my thigh, hand inching a little higher everytime. “i agree.”

i squint at her. “you do?” but it’s less of a question. my eyes flick to her lips, and i know she catches it because her smile widens, just a little.

“mhm,” she murmurs, her fingers twisting in, gripping my thigh until i’m squeezing my legs together. there’s a moment of silence, like she’s giving me a moment to breathe, to prepare, and she’s not done. “nobody’s fuckin’ with you, baby. believe that.”

i can feel my defenses slipping—not that they were ever really there anyway—as she presses closer, and i feel a warmth spreading through me, one that has nothing to do with the la heat. “what are we even doing, p?” i ask, and i don’t know where it came from. no part of me wanted to start an argument, or worse, hear the truth. i can’t look away.

she shifts, her expression softening as she glances down, then up again. she doesn’t know the answer either. “i dunno. what we always do.” she leans back a little, resting her head on the couch right near my chest, so close that her breath brushes against me with each exhale.

i tilt my head down, just enough to meet her blue hues, and the words come out before i even realize i’m saying them. “i’m supposed to be over this. over you.”

the second they’re out, i wish i could take them back. i didn’t wanna ruin the moment. the way her face changes, her jaw tightening and a flicker of something unreadable flashing in her eyes, tells me i’ve hit a nerve. a silence falls between us, an uncomfortable one if i’m honest, stretching longer than i mentally prepared myself for.

paige screws her eyes shut, letting out a low, frustrated breath as she sits up, running a hand over her face like she’s trying to gather herself. the loss of her touch makes me feel cold. “fuck, nai.”

i push myself up too, eyebrows are furrowed as i try to make sense of it. “what? i just asked a question.”

“you always gotta make shit so fuckin’ difficult,” she mutters, shaking her head like this whole thing is somehow my fault. like i’m the one complicating it.

i frown, glancing down, and she continues. “you’re just—God, nai, it’s like you can’t just let things be. you always gotta question it, question me.” she bites down on her lip. she’s actually upset, and the horrible part about it is that it’s so like her—so unmistakably paige—that somehow, i can’t even bring myself to be mad.

i want to laugh. “why does that piss you off?” i don’t want to say it, but the words slip out anyway. “you think you’ve given me any reason not to? especially now that you’re seeing maya?”

her head crooks to look at me, and her eyes narrow with it. “what the fuck does maya have to do with this?”

i can feel the heat in my face, the way everything inside me tightens, like i’ve been holding my breath for way too long. “what do you mean, what’s she got to do with it? you’re seeing her, paige. i’m not blind.”

her jaw clenches tighter than before, and she stands up, pacing a few steps before turning back to me. “we’re not—” she pauses, clearly trying to find her words, but i’m not giving her the time.

“that’s all i need to know,” i finish, forcing a tight-lipped grin. “you don’t have to lie. i’m quite sick of those from you, actually.” i chuckle, but it’s a hollow sound, one that doesn’t even make it past my throat. i reach for my shoes that i tossed to the side when i got here, pulling them onto my feet.

paige watches, hands on her hips, and i’m fine with her quiet. “i don’t want you to leave upset with me over somethin’ we coulda talked about,” she softens, but it doesn’t change the fact that i’m already over it.

“i’m not upset with you,” i bluff, and i tie the laces of my sneakers a little tighter than necessary.

she glances down, tongue swarming her mouth, and i don’t even have to look at her to know that she’s thinking of some way to stop me. “nai—“ she starts.

“i’m not upset,” i repeat, and i hope it was more firm this time. i force myself to look her in the eyes, not a single thought behind them. neither of us is willing to be the first to back down, but i’m too exhausted to care anymore. “i just need to go,” i finish, standing up and rounding the couch.

paige’s face drops, hesitation etched across her entire face. “you can’t leave. you had too much. just… stay, aight? we’ll figure it ou—”

i grab my jacket, ignoring her weak attempts. somehow, this all feels like that night again, and i feel that familiar nausea creep up. “i’ll call a fucking uber,” i snap, throwing the door open. and before she can stop me, i’m gone, my pulse racing as i step out into the hall, leaving behind the sound of her voice.

i don’t think i’m very good at pretending i’m not upset.

[kimuzostar]

YOU CAN'T HIDE ii

⊱ bountyhunter!terry x black fem reader ⊰ ⊱ warnings: 18+, smut, degradation kink, pregnancy scare, mention of clinic visit, slight choking, stalking aspects, slight dom!terry and more i forgot ⊰ ⊱ probably the last part for this, i don't know... writing smut scares me because i'm bad at it ⊰ enjoy

A few weeks have passed of you being on the run. The media coverage of the robbery had died down; yet you were still on edge. 

Not about the robbery but about him.

“When I catch you again, I won’t be as nice.”

 His words replayed over and over in your head. You felt them deep in your stomach, just like his di-

No, no, no. You will not allow a man to be the proprietor of your downfall. 

After he left, you gathered your things and immediately headed for the nearest bus station. You brought a ticket to Arondale, another small town about four hours away. You needed to put distance between the two of you. 

As you boarded the bus, you had an eerie feeling of being watched. You turn and see a truck. His truck. 

Its lights cut on and it rapidly sped off in the opposite direction. 

You let out a sigh of relief. 

Now you could live in peace….. or so you thought. 

You were currently bent over the toilet of your dingy motel room. The entire contents of your stomach emptied out before you. 

For the last 5 or so days, you’ve been unable to hold down any food, certain smells cause you to gag, and you’ve been over emotional about every little thing. 

The tenant next door was not being of any help as he didn’t seem to know how to lower his volume. Constantly playing loud music and talking loudly. Every time you went to complain, he would get quiet and not answer his door. 

The one time you did see him, his back was turned to you as he got in his car. You wish you would’ve saw his face so you could flip it off. 

You were trying not to think the worst, brushing it off to a persistent stomach bug. But your period was late and that wasn’t making anything more comforting. 

“There’s no fucking way!”, you whisper to yourself. 

There’s no way you could possibly be pregnant by a man you don’t even know. A man whose face you’ve never even seen. You didn’t need any of this right now. 

Gathering yourself, you pull up to look in the mirror. Your curly hair wild, eyes shadowed with bags and your plump lips were chapped. You were a mess. 

You needed a pregnancy test. There was a small market across the street. You gathered your jacket and headed out. 

-

The market was stocked; having every essential one might need. 

You grabbed a buggy. You were going to get everything you needed so if you get the worst, you wouldn’t have to come out for a while. 

As you turn down one of the aisles, you bump into someone. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” you say. 

Looking up, you see it’s your loud next door tenant. He’s wearing shades with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. A perfect set of 32s. 

“That’s no bother, just don’t do it again,” he replies. 

Already aggravated, you didn’t have the energy to play into his games. You continue along the aisle, paying him no more attention. 

Scanning the items, you finally find what you’re looking for; a clear blue pregnancy test. You grab it, biting your lower lip out of nervousness. 

Taking a step backwards, you run into what feels like a brick wall. A pair of arms surround you, the hands covering yours over the test. They lift them so the owner can take a closer look. 

“A pregnancy test. Who dis fa?”, the person says. 

You push back, turning to see who it is. 

It’s the tenant again. 

“Don’t fucking touch me and it’s none of your fucking business.”

He laughs, taking off his shades to get a better look at you. 

“I think it’s a lot of my business considering I could be a daddy.”  

Fuck, those eyes. 

It was him. The bounty hunter. 

Terry stood before you, smiling so big that his eyes disappeared. His hair was cut low, his skin bronzed by the sun. 

He was beautiful. 

You were frozen, unable to properly process what was going on. You wanted to run but your body wouldn’t move. You have many questions but your mouth wouldn’t move. 

“You look surprised. What’s wrong?”, he says jokingly. 

You finally get the push to speak. 

“You’re not the only person I’ve been with so you’re probably not the father”, you lie. 

Terry raises one of his eyebrows. “Is that so?”, he says. 

“Yes, so you can go away now”, you reply. 

“Nah, I’m curious about the results. Let's get back to your room”, he says walking towards the registers.

Your shoulders sunk. There was no way of this. 

-

Terry watched every step of you take your test; standing in the bathroom doorway like a bouncer. 

You avoided eye contact, feeling vulnerable about the current situation. 

“What does it say?”, he asks. 

“I don’t know, the instructions say there’s a 20 minute wait,” you reply. 

He sighs, looking up at the ceiling in thought. 

“What should we name it? I’m thinking Junior for a boy and Jasmi for a girl”, he says, smiling. 

You scoff. 

“You have lost your black ass mind if you think I’m having a baby with you. Plus, you don’t even know if this is your baby. The only thing I’m worried about is what clinic I need to go to”, you say. 

You peek at him through your lashes. He stood arms crossed, no longer smiling. You could cut the tension with a knife. 

“I’ve been watching you for weeks. There is no other man”, he says. 

“How did you find me? I left Springville weeks ago, it should’ve been impossible for you to find me here.”

Terry smiles, a laugh erupting deep from within his chest. 

“I never stopped following you, you’re just too fucking stupid to realize it. I followed your bus all the way here. I’ve been staying next door the whole time.”, he chuckles. 

You stood there dumbfounded. The clogs in your brain jammed and you were unable to produce a coherent thought. 

The loud music, the loud talking, the man entering the car. All him. 

“Are you actually insane? Do you not hear how ridiculous you sound? What’s not clicking?”, you say. 

Terry’s brows furrowed in genuine confusion. 

“Why are you so mad? I never told you I was going to leave you alone. I said when I catch you, not if I catch. You’re my problem until I feel you’re sorted out,” he says. “You were warned yet you still can’t hide.”

He stepped towards you. You step back and he follows you until you hit the wall. He leans down, his lips brushing your ear. You shiver at the contact. 

“Do I scare you?”, he asks, tracing a circle on your hip. 

Feigning dominance, you respond, “No, I’m not scared of you.”

You were definitely afraid of him. 

“I’m not afraid of a bubbling moron that goes around stalking people, unable to act like an adult,” you continue. 

You see Terry’s shoulders shake with a silent laugh. He pulls back, trailing the hand on your hip up to your neck. He wraps it around, squeezing slightly. You can feel your nipples harden through your shirt. 

”As long as you’re here, I won’t ever leave you alone. Deal with it”, he says. 

The statement causes you to look down at the floor. The thought of him bothering you forever was too much to bear. 

Terry lifts your chin so you can meet his eyes. You’re stuck, unable to look away; almost like you were being hypnotized. 

He kisses you, his mouth engulfing yours. His lips were so soft, citing a moan from you. His hands slide their way to your butt. He squeezes, pulling you flesh against his body. 

He picks you up, walking you over to the bed. He places you down, still not breaking the kiss. 

Your tongues fight for power, neither of you wanting to fall to the other. 

“Take these off”, he says tugging at your pants. 

You oblige, removing your shirt, pants and underwear. He does the same, allowing you to finally get a good look at his body. 

He was chiseled by the gods. His shoulders were large, coupled with a six pack and a deep v-line leading down to a hung dick. 

Terry hovers over you, settling his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your scent. His fingers begin to rub up and down your pussy, softly grazing over your clit. 

He plunges two fingers in you. He licks from your collarbone to the shell of your ear. He gives it a kiss. 

“Still as tight as last time. There’s no way somebody else been in here,” he teases in your ear. 

“Would’ve been better than you anyways,” you reply. 

Terry freezes. He pulls his fingers out of you, lifting his head up to stare in your eyes. The stoic expression is back. 

Uh oh. 

He sits back, using your hips to flip you on your stomach. His hands find your hair and he pushes your face into the mattress. He straddles you, his other hand on your back.  You can feel his dick resting on your ass. 

“I’ve been being really nice. I don’t appreciate all this back talk,” he says. 

“If you stop talking so much shit then maybe we wouldn’t have that problem,” you reply. 

Terry pushes you further into the mattress, leaning in closer to your face. 

“Apologize and mayb-“, he starts. 

“Fuck you”, you spit, cutting him off. 

With no warning, he slams into you, taking a pause so you can adjust around him. 

His grip loosens from your hair, wrapping it around to cover your mouth. He lowers the rest of his body on you, trapping you between him and the mattress. 

“You don’t know how to shut up and be a good girl. Always got that bitchy attitude. That’s ok, I can fix that”, he says with a smile. 

He begins to thrust into you, hard. The position made it feel like he was poking your lungs. 

“Can’t nobody fuck this pussy like I can.”

He would pull up, only leaving the tip; rolling his hips, before thrusting back in. He kept moving over your spot; it felt like scratching an itch slowly.

“Talking all that big shit, say something now,” he urges, removing his hand. 

All you could respond with was a moan. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t form any words. He was fucking you dumb. 

You began to pant, feeling out of breath; that familiar knot growing in your stomach. 

Terry shifts, the change of angle reaching a new dept within you. 

“Cumming,” you say with an exasperated sigh. He continued to fuck you through it, making it feel like it was going on forever. 

“That’s what I thought”, he says. 

Terry flips over to his side, taking you with him. He grabs the back of your knee, pulling it up to your ear. He slides back into you, feeling even deeper than before. 

“Ah, fuck, that feels so fucking good”, you say. 

“You are mine, this pussy is mine, all MINE. You belong to me,” he growls, planting a kiss on your knee.  

You nodded. The words sounding like music to your ears. If this was the kind of dick you’d get everyday, you thought it wouldn’t be too bad. Besides, you know he wasn’t going to leave you alone anytime soon. Especially if you had a baby on the way. 

“You will be a slut for me, whether you like it or not  

He kept slamming into, never letting up. His free hand grabs your neck, pulling you closer to his face. You felt the warmth of his breath on your skin. 

“I’m gonna cum again”, you say. 

“Let it go, wet that dick up”, he replies. 

With that, you let go, screaming to the heavens. Terry follows closely behind. You feel him tense up as he paints your walls white. 

The two of you are a mess of sweat and deep breaths. Terry pulls out of you, looking down at the art he created. He gives a playful slap to your ass cheek.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”, he says.

You roll your eyes, getting a chuckle out of him. 

He gets up, heading to the bathroom to check on the test. 

“Oh look”, he says flashing it to you, “it’s negative”.

-

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @skvrpion @avoidthings @jimmybutlrr @persethegawd @nayaesworld @mymindisneverhere @theereina @thabiddie23 @planetblaque @megamindsecretlair @melaninpov @madamzola @literallegendicon @blyffe

[uceyliyahh]

SOMETHING BOUT’ US

Summary: "I want you more than anything in my life." After being in a difficult relationship with Carmelo Yasmine decided to move on from him and become the next big thing while getting drafted on the smackdown roster she always thought she would never find love again due to her commitment issues until she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 4605

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Yasmine

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi

6.

JEY I was in the garage at home doing my workouts for this upcoming PPV that is happening this weekend. Jon and I got a tag team title defense against the New Day during that time, so I had to be prepared for it.

I hope Yasmine will be able to debut around this weekend during the PPV because I heard that someone would be making their long-awaited debut for a title-shot match against Liv Morgan.

As I was doing my bench press reps, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, which made me put a pause on my workout. I grabbed it from my pocket,  seeing that Yasmine had texted me.

Yasmine🩵 sent 2+ messages and two attachments IMESSAGE 💬 Yasmine🩵: bestie butt I miss you Yasmine🩵: it's sooo boring without you here hopefully I get to see you at work. Yasmine🩵:

'I felt myself getting hard at these pictures she just sent me damn she looked so fucking cute.'

Joshua🤍: Yasmine you're really testing it right now. Yasmine🩵: whaaaaaat? All I did was send some pictures 🙄 Joshua🤍: yeah, they're cute but that's not the problem minks. Yasmine🩵: then what's the problem? 🤨 Joshua🤍: Yasmine stop playin dumb with me Yasmine🩵: these pictures are getting you hard right now? Joshua🤍: bingo I feel like you sent them on purpose Yasmine🩵: maybe....maybe not🙂🤭 Joshua🤍: you wanna keep playin? Yasmine🩵: what? Ion' know what you're talking about Bestie Joshua🤍: A'ight bet since you wanna act dumb and keep playin I got'chu later on Yasmine🩵: wait Josh I was kidding Yasmine🩵: JOSHUA!! 🥲🥲

I chuckled as I left her on read, staring down at my hardened member and then back at her photos. Her images made me want to pound my dick in so badly. After putting away all of my exercise gear and heading upstairs to my bedroom, I lay down on my bed and took down my shorts, watching my dick pop up and land on my stomach as I started to stroke it up and down while daydreaming about her.

MINI SMUT WARNING

While I kept my eyes closed, I was groaning Yasmine's name and imagining how wonderful it would feel to be within her at that moment. I was going crazy thinking about her in this way, especially when I had wet dreams about it. My legs were squeezing together, and I could picture her bouncing up and down on my dick while groaning my name. I could feel my breath becoming unsteady as I continued to stroke my dick up and down.

"Fuck...Yasmine...Fuck.." I moaned softly as I kept stroking it in a steady pace.

I was rolling my eyes in the back of my head yearning for more of her, her touch, her rubbing all up on me. I instantly grabbed my phone and started to record a video of myself stroking my dick up and down so I could send it to her.

I kept stroking the tip feeling myself edging on as I continued to moan her name, I just couldn't wait to be all up in that whenever I get a chance.

"Ouuuu fuck mama..." thinking about beating her shit in while pulling on her hair choking her as I pushed my dick deeply inside of her wanting her to feel every single inch of me.

I clenched my legs some more feeling sweat coming down my cheeks with my face being all flushed. I felt myself shaking as I sped up the pace a little bit more.

My mouth was parted opened as I felt myself getting close to my climax as my dick twitched in my hands.

I kept imagining Yasmine stroking it for me swirling her tongue around my tip before going down on me while my tip was hitting the back of her throat gagging on it.

"Fuck, I'm finna nut fuck.." I moaned.

I chuckled as I let out a satisfying sigh and saw my nut trickling from my hand as I gently stroked the remaining portion out, cursing under my breath after a few more strokes.

MINI SMUT OVER.

I used my available hand to stop the video recording as my chest was heaving up and down. Getting up from the bed, I went towards my bathroom and took a shower.

'Damn that shit felt so good.'

✧˚° YASMINE I was at the performance center today in the ring practicing with Bianca for my debut this weekend at Crown Jewel. Nobody knew but the girls. I was so nervous and happy that I was finally debuting at my first-ever PPV.

I was on top of the turnbuckle doing my finisher move on Bianca, landing on her stomach and hearing her groan in pain at the feeling. That's when I pinned her shoulders down, counting in my head.

I let go of her leg as I felt my face flushed. My chest was heaving up and down, getting up from the ring, and I placed my hands on my hips as Bianca did the same.

"Damn girl you're really good." Bianca said.

"Man I know I believe what Shawn Michael's was saying that I'll be the next star in this company." I said wiping the sweat off of my forehead.

"I see the vision of you being a champion girl and when you do you better give me the opportunity." I nodded my head chuckling at her letting her know that I'll make sure to give her a title shot.

I went to grab my phone as I saw that Jey had sent me a video. When I went to go open it, my eyes went wide as I saw him stroking his dick up and down, hearing him moaning my name.

I made sure to put my AirPods in so I could listen to it more clearly; as I predicted it his dick was big as fuck and now I gotta wait until later to see what the fuck was he talking about earlier when I sent those pictures.

After watching the video, seeing his nut spilling out from the tip and dripping down on his hands, it just made my body feel warm and fuzzy seeing that he's thinking about me.

I turned the phone off, hearing Bianca's footsteps coming behind me. "Are you ready, girl? Let's go see what your gear is looking like." I nodded my head while grabbing our bags and our water.

✧˚° After Bianca and I checked out my ring attire for Crown Jewel, all I can say is that it looked good, like really good. We were at the catering area, seeing Trinity and Jonathan sitting there at our table eating.

We walked up with our plates as they both looked at us and smiled I tried to scan the area to find Jey but he was nowhere to be found so I just shrugged it off.

Trinity and Them didn't know about my debut match for the weekend because it had to be a secret that would surprise everyone, including the crowds.

"Trinity have you seen my bestie?" I asked.

"I think he's in him and Jon's locker room right now I don't know why?" She said while stuffing her face with food.

"I just wanted to know that's all I was hoping to see him today." Trinity nodded her head as we all continued to eat our foods together. Meanwhile, I felt my phone buzz. When I pulled it out, I saw that Jey had texted me.

Joshua🤍 sent a message IMESSAGE 💬 Joshua🤍: come holla at me for a minute when you get done minks.

I was nervous, to say the least. I didn't know what he had planned, and when I went towards his locker room, all I could think about was what he had said earlier before we came into work.

After I finished eating my food, I got up from the table and went towards the trashcan, throwing away my plate in the process, before heading towards his locker room.

Meanwhile, I heard someone behind me calling my name. I could recognize that voice from a mile away. When I turned around, I saw Carmelo standing there with his arms crossed.

"What Melo?" I asked giving him a stern expression.

"What the fuck is goin on between you and Jey? I saw what you posted on your page talking about a favorite person; it better be me." He said sternly as I smacked my teeth because I didn't have time for this shit right now.

"Melo? Can we not be delusional for once, like seriously, you knew who I was referring to." I was beginning to walk away until I felt him grabbing me by the wrist which made me turn around a smack the fuck out of him.

By this point, I was getting sick of him snatching me up like I was some kind of fucking Barbie doll or something. I watched as he staggered back, clutching his cheek in disbelief. Carmelo was stunned when I turned to leave for Jey's locker room when I approached his locker room I knocked on the door like usual waiting for him to open it.

When I heard his footsteps approaching the door, I heard him opening the door, and I saw myself standing there, looking all innocent. I gazed up at him, smiling.

He let me in, closing the door behind us. I wrapped my arms around his neck while he wrapped his around my waist, and we made eye contact.

"I missed you bestie butt." I said.

"I missed you too mamas." Jey said as he gave me a peck on the lips.

Hoping that he would forget what he had said earlier, I unwrapped my arms around his neck before walking away to sit down on the couch. That's when I felt him pull me back into his arms, scooping me up by the thighs.

Now I was straddling his lap like I was one week ago. He placed his lips onto mine as we passionately made out with each other. Our tongues were fighting for dominance, knowing he had won that fight, feeling him rubbing his hands all over my body.

Next thing I knew, our clothes were on the floor as the cold breeze hit our bodies. It was like we had lost control in the moment, feeling my body grinding on his hardened dick.

Hearing him hiss at the feeling, we stopped what we were doing as we looked at each other, I couldn't wait any longer for this begging him with my eyes just to fuck me right there.

"We don't have to do this mama, ion want you to feel uncomfortable or being forced." Jey said trying to read my facial expressions.

I shook my head, "I want too Josh...I wanna do this...I trust you..." I was shocked at myself for even saying this despite my trust issues but with Jey it felt so different he's been my peacemaker.

SMUT WARNING He kissed me on the lips, trailing them down onto my neck and giving me wet kisses as I threw my head back in pleasure, letting him do whatever he wanted to do to me.

He was sucking on my neck like a vampire that needed blood supply as he marked me up good, at this point we reached our limit knowing that we both wanted more from each other and not just some kissing and teasing each other.

I felt him rubbing my soaking folds against his tip as I sat down on it, letting his dick fill me up well as I gasped, knowing that he was finna be all in my shit. He pulled me closer to his body and held onto me tightly, giving me nothing but sweet kisses on the cheek.

"You goin' to ride this dick fo' me baby?" He said in a low tone that gave me shivers I nodded my head, looking into his eyes

I slowly moved my ass up and down on his dick, trying to adjust to his size, feeling his hands guiding my hips to my movements. I never felt so full before, especially when I was with Carmelo again. Something about Jey is different.

I had my eyes rolling in the back of my head as Jey watched me bounce all up on his dick I could see him having his bottom lip tucked underneath his teeth.

"Damn, mama...this some good ass pussy.." Jey Groaned as I sped up my pace a little bit.

I saw him throwing his head back as he continued to watch me become a moaning mess for him and only him.

"F-fuckk Josh..." I moaned breathlessly maintaining eye contact with him as I bit the bottom of my lip.

"You so fucking pretty baby, taking papi's dick so well." He was a much better talker than melo was it just turned me on even more. We stopped in our tracks as we heard the door knocking as me and him looked at each other.

But then I felt him thrust his hips upward, causing me to gasp while he covered my mouth, continually thrusting his hips so deep inside of me.

"Yo Uce! we gotta do this segment in like 20 minutes!" Jon said.

"Shit...A'ight then uce I'll be out there in a few!" Jey managed to speak as he pounded into my wet cunt. He looked dead into my eyes, giving me a warning.

At the point, his dick felt like it was all in my guts as I let him take control of the situation, feeling pull my face closer to his as we passionately kissed.

"Ouuu papi...you're so deep. " He liked the way I sounded, and I practically begged him for more—more of him calling out his name.

"Yeah? Keep bouncing on it then mama, make me nut." I did what I was told to do and went back to bouncing on his dick on the couch.

I felt my walls gripping onto him, hearing him cursing under his breath, spanking my ass in the process, getting a handful of it.

I felt a pit going down my stomach, knowing that I was going to be coating my cream all over him as we continued to tongue kiss each other.

His hands were guiding my hips to speed up the pace a little more as skins were slapping against each other, which sounded out the entire room. I could feel his tip hitting my cervix driving me crazy.

He was so deep inside of me it had me seeing stars knowing that this man drives me crazy. I could feel myself coming closer to my orgasm.

That's when I felt him get up flipping us over, now my back was on the couch while my legs were pinned to my sides as he began drilling my shit.

I couldn't handle it anymore as I tried to push him by his stomach but he slapped my hand away fucking vigorously. "J-Joshhhhuaa oh my godddd." I moaned his full name rolling my eyes in the back of my head.

"Mhm...give me this shit mama...cum all over this dick..." He grunted firmly grabbing me by the throat not wanting to hurt me.

The air was thickening with our breathing and sweating making it feel hot inside the locker room. Jey circled his hips hitting my spot over and over again as I felt defeated by him.

Our foreheads were touching each other staring into each other's eyes deeply as he pecked me on the lips letting me to relax and that he got me.

"Uhnnn Josh I-I'm finna C-cum..!" I mewled weakly feelin' tired and overwhelmed.

I heard him whispering something in my ear that made me came all over this man, "C'mon cum fo' papi baby...daddy's got'chu pretty mamas." I felt my legs shaking as I let out a gasp cumming all over him rolling my eyes deeply in the back of my head while he was watching too.

My entire body quivered underneath him as I saw my cream coat his dick so well while he continued to beat my shit in.

I felt so overwhelmed that I had tears running down my face due to me being sensitive around my area, using my hand to push him away, but that just made things worse.

He kept my legs over his shoulders, pounding into me so deeply to the point where I couldn't even look him in the eyes anymore, covering my face in the process.

"Move yo' damn arm away from yo' face minks lemme' see how good I'm fucking you." He demanded as he removed my arm away from my face.

He liked the way I was looking so miserable underneath him, holding onto the couch for dear life and feeling his dick twitch inside of me.

His movements became slower and sloppier with every single thrust he gave me; he wanted me to feel every inch.

"Fuck minks I'm finna nut..." Jey placed a soft kiss on my lips as he moved his hips deeper into my gushy insides.

After a few more thrusts, Jey pulled out of me, letting out a satisfying groan escaping his lips while he came all over my stomach, stroking the rest of his nut out.

'This is some of best sex I ever had.'

SMUT OVER.

I was panting heavily as my chest was heaving up and down; my legs felt like jello shaking violently. Jey had taken notice of that and began massaging my thighs, planting kisses over them.

He grabbed a napkin so he could wipe his nut off of my stomach, after he did that we began putting on our clothes as I attempted to walk towards the mirror fixing my hair hiding my hickies in the process behind my hair.

My legs felt so weak I could barely stand, 'damn, this nigga fuck me good way to good.' He walked up behind me wrapping his arms around my waist placing a kiss on my cheek as we looked at each other in the mirror.

"You good minks?" Jey asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine my legs just feel like jello now because of you sir." I said rolling my eyes at him as I heard him chuckling softly.

"My fault mamas, you just felt so good I couldn't help it." I punched him in his chest before placing a kiss on his lips.

He pulled away from me, grabbing his phone and checking the time he had to leave for this segment before Jon starts to get pissed like a little ass kid. With that he gave one final kiss before heading out to meet with Jon.

Meanwhile, I saw my phone light up as I saw that Bianca had texted me.

Breezy🫶🏽 sent 2+ messages IMESSAGE 💬 Breezy🫶🏽: Yasmine wya? Breezy🫶🏽: oh never mind you with Joshua?

I just chuckled at the messages and began texting her back.

Minnie🧃: yeah, I was spending time with Josh Breezy🫶🏽: girl what was yall doing in there?😭 Minnie🧃: well see about that😭😭 Breezy🫶🏽: OMG BITCH YALL TWO IS NASTY Minnie🧃: we couldn't control ourselves okay😭 this is what we wanted Breezy🫶🏽: I understand girl completely but hurry up before Montez get back in here Minnie🧃: I'm otw now 😭

I made sure that I've gotten everything before leaving towards Montez's locker room, while walking down the hallway I ran into him yet again but this time I just ignored his ass not wanting to hear what he has to say.

As I made it towards my brother's locker room, I opened the door and saw Trinity and Bianca sitting on the couch like always. They both looked at me, darting their eyes behind me.

When I turned around, I saw Carmelo standing behind me, which made me jump a little bit before I turned around and sighed deeply.

"Melo what the fuck." I said.

His eyes darted towards my neck seeing all of my purple hickies on my neck that Jey had applied on me I could read his facial expressions and he looked pretty pissed.

He moved my hair to the side, getting a better view of the hickeys on my neck, "Yasmine, why the fuck are there hickeys on your neck?" I rolled my eyes at him, folding my arms in the process.

"Why does it matter? Get it through your head, Melo. We are not together." Carmelo tried to grab me by the arm, but Trinity came just in time to stop him, slapping him in the face and causing him to stumble backward while shutting the door in his face.

I sat down on the couch, rubbing my temple, feeling frustrated with all of this. The girls could see how stressed I was.

"Girl, you gotta get a restraining order on him or something or he'll just keep harassing you." Bianca said.

I nodded my head agreeing with them I had to do something or this will get worst.

✧˚° OMNISCIENT After work, Yasmine decided to go home and chill for the rest of the day since her body was sore and still recovering from the session she and Jey had earlier today.

When she pulled up in the driveway, she turned off the ignition switch in her car, grabbed her keys and bags from the backseat, and exited the car.

She had thought about what Bianca had said about getting a restraining order against Carmelo. It would probably finally give her some piece of mind if he stayed away from her, and if he went against it, he could go to jail.

It made her smile to think about him being in jail and away from her, especially since she and Jey have been getting close.

She unlocked the door, wiping her feet on the mat before coming inside. She held onto the wall, taking off her shoes and placing them on the rack.

Meanwhile, she sat down on the couch, sighing in relief, feeling her phone vibrate and seeing an unknown number calling her.

OTP Yasmine: hello? Unknown number: Hey minks Yasmine: who the fuck is this? Unknown number: girl it's Trick damn did you forget me already Yasmine: Nigga how did you get my number? Ion want nun to do with you Unknown number: c'mon you know what you told me wasn't true he didn't do that Yasmine: Trick fuck you like honestly your own best friend literally fucking raped me in my locker room and choke me the fuck out and you wanna call up my phone saying that I'm making it up? Unknown number: Minks c'mon now Yasmine: don't fucking call my number again Unknown number: Minks—

CALLED ENDED

Yasmine felt her cheeks getting wet as she wiped her tears away. She couldn't believe that this man didn't believe her and believed that she had made this all up just to ruin Carmelo's reputation.

She blocked Trick's TextNow number while bawling her eyes out on the couch, she had flashbacks of what had happened that day it always give her nightmares at night that's why she always wanted Jey to stay with her because he was her comfort person.

Yasmine wiped the rest of her tears away as she texted Trinity.

IMESSAGE 💬 Minnie🧃: hey, Trin? Trin🤭🫶🏽: yeah, girl what's up? Minnie🧃: is Joshua with yall? Trin🤭🫶🏽: no, him and Jon went out for drinks with the guys why what's wrong? Minnie🧃: sigh, I'm having a mental breakdown right now and I just need him here but ion' wanna be a burden if he's with the guys Trin🤭🫶🏽: hey! Don't say that about yourself you're not a burden to nobody not even Joshua Minnie🧃: I'm trying to calm myself down I can't believe that this man thinks I made it all up Trin🤭🫶🏽: who Trick? He called you? How? Minnie🧃: from a TextNow number Trin🤭🫶🏽: omg he's so weird for that honestly but let me see what time they're coming back okay? Minnie🧃: kk thank you Trin Trin🤭🫶🏽: ofccc I'll do anything for you

After she texted Trin, she went upstairs and went towards her bedroom, not knowing when Bianca and Montez were coming home. She lay down in her bed, curled up in a ball.

She didn't feel safe at work with Carmelo walking around, even though she had protection. She believed that her protection wouldn't help as much since they wouldn't really be around.

She again felt tears running down her face, hoping that Jey would come and comfort her, but she was also scared, wondering if she was pushing him away or scaring him off with her issues.

Wondering if she was enough for him in his eyes, Yasmine wiped her tears away, seeing her phone light up as she saw a text from Jey.

Joshua🤍 sent 2+ messages IMESSAGE 💬 Joshua🤍: hey, mama Trin had texted me saying that you were looking for me Joshua🤍: you okay?

She smiled at the messages but it went away due to her overthinking about what she had thought about.

Yasmine🩵: yeah, I'm okay bestie Joshua🤍: you don't have to hide it from me minks Yasmine🩵: I-I'm not hiding anything... Joshua🤍: Yasmine don't be doing that what's wrong? Yasmine🩵: it's nothing ion' wanna be a burden I'll see you tmr Josh goodnight Joshua🤍: Minks

Yasmine turned off her phone while getting up from her bed and going towards her dresser. She took off her clothes and threw them in the dirty bin right next to her dresser.

She heard her phone going off knowing that Jey was calling her but she didn't want to answer it ignoring her phone ringing, since she already took a shower at work she changed into something comfortable while getting inside her warm blankets.

In the dark, she tossed and turned, not feeling comfortable. Her bed felt empty without Jey cuddling her. She saw a car light approaching the house, probably thinking that it was Montez and Bianca coming home, but she heard the door knocking, which is something that they don't do when they have a key.

She got up from her bed walked downstairs towards the front door, opened the door seeing the person that she wanted to see and be with.

He looked good wearing all black along with his gold chain and white Air Forces including his piercings that hang from his ears.

He had his arms folded over his chest as she let him in before shutting the door behind him, standing there like a little kid.

Her eyes watched him sit down on the couch, curling up his finger in the process as she walked up towards him, going between his legs.

"C'mere Yasmine." Jey spoken.

She looked down at her feet, fiddling with her fingers, as he pulled her onto his lap, grabbing her chin and making her look at him.

Jey noticed that she had been crying, showing concern in his eyes. "Talk to me, mama. What was all of that about?" Yasmine opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

She sighed, knowing that she wasn't going to get away from this, so she explained what had happened and why she was acting like that, expressing herself that she didn't want to be a burden or worried that she was scaring him away with her issues, wondering if she was enough.

Hearing her vent and let out her feelings just broke his heart. Listening to this, he knew that he loved her deeply; she just didn't even know it.

"Minks, you're more than enough for me. You aren't a burden, mama. Don't ever say that." He reassured her while placing a kiss on her shoulder.

"I'm here for you, mama. You don't have to be afraid to tell me things." Yasmine nodded her head while lying down on his chest.

She knew that Jey was her true comfort person, her peacemaker, and she felt a sense of relief that Jey wasn't going to leave her or judge her for what she had gone through.

Yasmine knew that she would be loved by him.

Something Bout' Us.

A/n: I honestly understand Yasmine completely I know Jey is going to love her downnnn but Trick ass just a damn disgrace like how can you believe your best friend's lies over Yasmine? When you wasn't even there?

Idkk but he's pissing me off honestly.

But I hope yall enjoy the chapter lmk in the comments below.

Stay Ucey.

[holyshonks]

At the End of the Game

A short writing contribution for Potluck 2024!

I'm kind of obsessed with the fucked up, sibling-adjacent relationship that John, Cortana, and Miranda share. I got the impression, too, that they knew each other before the awards ceremony in Halo 2, so this explores some of that.

Halsey is not the Spartans' mom, but she sacrificed her daughter to give them the care and attention she was not giving her. Cortana is not flesh-and-blood, but she came from Halsey, so what does that make her? Her sister, her daughter, her clone? Miranda should be the easiest to define, but her relationship with her mother tests the tension between biological truth, and when neglect negates any claim to parenthood. In Halsey's efforts to spare them, to keep them close and preserve them, she failed them all.

John stepped through the hall, aware of how his footsteps shook the delicate equipment even out of armor. In the bowels of the lab, he would find Halsey’s office. Typically, she could be found around a table, deep in thought, working through something with Déjà. Her office was reserved for briefings or bad news or both, and John readied himself for anything. As he turned the corner, he stopped short. 

A girl. She was short, with a brown bob and brown eyes to match, deep and severe for a child. To John, she seemed impossibly young to be in a place like this, but he could also not recall the last time he interacted with a child. John did not have a typical childhood, nor a typical adolescence. His frame of reference was skewed by his own experience as a young, augmented teen with shatter-proof bones and a body that did not match the roundness of his face. Certainly, she was too young to be military. His jaw tightened. Halsey swore that the SPARTAN-II recruiting process was a last resort. If something about that changed, he wanted to know. 

"Who are you?" the girl asked, before he could ask her the same. 

"I'm John." 

Out of habit, he nearly rattled off his rank and superlatives that the people who wanted something from him were always looking for, but she was someone different. 

"You're waiting for Halsey?" 

"Yes." You didn't tell me your name. 

"Well, wait your turn."

John’s eyebrows perked at her curt response. She was either not as young as she looked, or sharp beyond her years. She was toying with him, looking for answers that she herself wouldn't share. She knew more than him, or, at least, wanted him to think she did.  He didn't understand why she was playing mind games, but he understood them. 

"Okay," John said impassively. He was an unwilling player, but he liked to win. 

"Why are you here?" 

"Same as you," he said, nodding to the door. 

"But why? What is she to you?”

“You don’t know?” The ghost of a smirk tugged the side of his mouth. 

She frowned. She got down here somewhere, knew more than a civilian would. But she didn’t know everything.

"What makes you so special?" 

John half swallowed. He knew the response he was supposed to give, been trained to give. If she were military, he would tell her it was classified and move on. But she was not military, not quite a civilian. She was something else that he couldn’t place, and until he recognized the theater he was in, a typical answer wouldn’t work. 

"I'm not sure what you mean,” he replied, still probing. 

"Why you? Over me?" 

His brows notched. This was getting stranger. "Who are you?" 

The words came out before he could stop them. She opened her mouth to speak, but the door to Halsey’s office slid open. If it weren’t for his augmentations, John wouldn’t have noticed how Dr. Catherine Halsey stiffened in the doorway. Her lab coat seemed to swallow her more every time he saw her, despite her larger-than-life reputation. 

"Miranda." Dr. Halsey blanched. "John."

The girl—Miranda—unceremoniously handed over a data pad. Haltingly, Dr. Halsey took it from her. 

"Permission slip. I need you to sign before I go back home."

Halsey read over the data pad. 

"Harmony? For two weeks?" 

"It's camp. Lots of people do it."

"And your father?"

"He won't be home when I get back."

Halsey's gaze shifted up and to the left, remembering. Then she shook her head. "Harmony is too far. There was a Covenant freighter detected in that system two years ago. It's not safe."

"Because of one ship, two years ago?"

"One ship that we know of."

"You’re making excuses. You just like telling me no.” Miranda’s cheeks began to redden. Her lips curled over her teeth. 

Halsey's eyes flickered to John. "Why don't you come inside? We can talk—."

"What difference does it make to you?" Miranda interrupted. "If I'm gone on Harmony or I'm gone with dad, I'm still gone. If you wanted to control me, you shouldn’t have given me away."

The doctor flinched like she'd been stricken. The girl crossed her arms, and John noticed something strikingly familiar about the challenge in her eyes.

"That's different,”  Halsey murmured. “At least I know you're safe with your father." 

John remembered. It was Jorge who noticed first, though he was never one for gossip. He’d kept it to himself until the tension and paranoia in the lead up to their augmentations began to eclipse reason–as the date drew nearer,  the trainees had begun to murmur about Halsey’s absence. Some attributed it to shame, that she knew the augs would fail, and that she could not face them. But Jorge was one of the oldest Spartans. He had—or used to have—a younger sister, and he remembered the way his mother looked, in those days. 

"Are you signing?" 

John had seen Dr. Halsey stand up to men twice her size, to ONI, to admirals with chips on their shoulders. She never hesitated to bite back at her rivals, or to defend her position. But her hands trembled as she signed her name on the dotted line. The moment she handed the data pad back, Miranda turned to leave. 

She regarded John for a moment. “Being her favorite isn’t what you think it is.” 

Before John could respond, she was on her way. 

"Miranda," Halsey called, "I want to keep discussing this. When do you go back?" 

"You don't know?" She rounded the corner, and disappeared. 

John and Halsey were left in silence. He swallowed. He wasn’t equipped for this. He should have excused himself the moment they started speaking, but something kept him there. Halsey seemed more vulnerable here than in a war zone. 

"I apologize, John. I...I didn't think that would go that way." Halsey’s mouth pulled into a tight line, regaining her composure. "Come in."

The room was too small, but it was all they could spare, given the circumstances. Johnson came up with some excuse. A quick briefing, and then back to the aftermath of Halo’s destruction. The briefing before the briefing, really, which Lord Hood pretended he was unaware of. The truth before she was given ONI’s version, a version she would see right through, John was sure. His shirt collar pinched the sides of his neck, his dress uniform too starch-stiff to tug loose. It was uncomfortable. It was the least he could do.

John let Cortana do the talking. She knew the most, and besides, she was always better with words. Miranda Keyes stared into Cortana’s avatar. The blue light reflected off her face, revealing shadows beneath her eyes. She hadn't said anything while the artificial intelligence recounted what happened on the Halo ring. What happened to Captain Keyes. What happened to her father. Instead, her erudite gaze passed between Cortana and John.

"Your father was a hero. Is a hero," Cortana concluded.

Long silence stretched between them. Despite what she'd just been told, her expression remained cool and unblinking. After tense seconds, Miranda leaned over the table, fingers clasped.

"Another one of my mother's pawns, aren’t you?" she breathed, nodding at Cortana.

Cortana's hologram flickered. When she reappeared, she stood straighter. The binary code that made up her image rushed down in rivulets.

"Ma'am?"

"That's okay," Miranda said, regarding them both. "I am, too."

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

I need a fic where Poe and Ranpo bond over both being orphans

[deityofhearts]

the moment a character doesn’t act the way you think they should y’all are so quick to call them stupid and useless and claim that you would do better if you were them (I promise you that no, you would not do better than them if you were in the same exact potion as them under the same exact circumstances, it’s bold of y’all to assume you would and I do wish that I had to power to toss y’all in said situations and watch y’all fail tbh)

[lesbiansanemi]

I maybe potentially (most likely) have covid but my job is being so fucking cagey about if I’m going to be on the receiving end of disciplinary action for not coming in because of it. I have multiple symptoms of it and was in close contact for an extended period of time with two people who have tested positive for it. I went to get an official test from an urgent care place (because I was told I need proof for my job), and was told it would be up to 48 hours until I get results and until then I needed to self isolate and then obviously continue if the test is positive. They wrote me a note saying to excuse me from my job which I emailed to them. But they keep emailing me like “well the cdc says isolation is no longer necessary so…. If you don’t have a fever you’re supposed to come in” and now I’m so paranoid that I’m going to get write ups for not coming in despite having a literal doctor’s note telling me not to because all covid protections have been so thoroughly axed and it’s treated like any “normal” illness (though this shouldn’t be okay for ANY illness, not just covid) and if you don’t have sick time (which most places don’t supply at all, or if they do, it’s a dismal amount) you have to come in or experience the consequences and I’m just 🙃🙃🙃 so anxious about it and also I fucking hate this country for putting MILLIONS of people in this position where they have to choose between not going work but risking being fired and losing their livelihoods which leads to SO many risks if you have no safety net (and most people don’t) OR going in because you just don’t have a choice but you’re miserable and actively spreading highly infectious diseases to multiple other people. I truly don’t understand how there are people who look at this system and act like it’s fine

[desperatecheesecubes]

So back in the day in 7th grade our English teacher had the Gifted Kids in his class make read The Outsiders and then he wanted us to make a short movie based on it and all four of us (there were only four in our grade in the program) has to contribute. I was big into making AMVs at the time so I knew basic video editing and in an effort to not make a fool of myself I front of the other three who were all in the popular crowd I volunteered to edit it. Anyway I never heard of any plans to make this fucker until I came into class one day to see it being played and my name in the credits. I got an A for work I didn’t do because the other kids didn’t like me enough to work with me. I wasn’t even upset i was excluded that’s the easiest A I’ve ever gotten

[technicallyaminecraftsimp]

Tonight’s moodboard

[nazumichi]

annotated bibliographies are like the evil mean cousin of sample scoring

[synthville]

the ‘raffi is so wild and impulsive and emotional and can’t handle her shit’ schtick has gotten real old tho can’t lie. like it was already stale when plcard told her she was being ‘too emotional’ literal seconds after elnor died (um hello sir have you ever heard of grief? you might not participate but let a bitch breathe! thank you!) but having worf (who im actually liking so far) pull the same ‘she’s irrational, violent etc’ thing is just like. eye roll. obviously the writing isn’t doing my girl any favours by cheaply and gleefully playing into it with cliches left and right but my goodness can they come up with something else!

[salsflore]

going to sleep soon ～ let me get some things off my chest here.... my eyes are super itchy again (fell into the trap of snuggling my cat even when i swore i wouldn't do it again)

[destiel-more-like-im-dead-again]

I love supernatural but I cannot even begin to describe just how shit the character development was in later seasons

[jackietaylorsghost]

joel didn’t take away ellie’s agency in tlou1 the fireflies did and just cus tlou2 thought good storytelling is done by retconning the original and what actually happened DOWN TO CHANGING THE COLOURS OF THE OR TO MAKE JOEL LOOK MORE HOSTILE AND MAKING IT SEEM LIKE ELLIE EXPECTED TO DIE AND WANTED TO that doesn’t change send tweet

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

In another time when I was a Sign Language Interpreting Intern I went and observed a nationally certified interpreter. She had two fingers on one of her hands - pinkie and thumb.

Nationally certified interpreters go through 2 tests, one being in front of a panel of judges. And it’s freaking hard.

She was fantastic.

And you know where I saw her working? Disney World.

I Hope she’s doing so well.

Could somebody be a paramedic if they were missing a forearm?

Y’know, sometimes a question comes along that exposes your biases. I’m really, really glad you asked me this.

My initial instinct was to say no. There are a lot of tasks as a paramedic that require very specific motions that are sensitive to pressure: drawing medications, spreading the skin to start IVs. There’s strength required–we do a LOT of lifting, and you need to be able to “feel” that lift.

So my first thought was, “not in the field”. There are admin tasks (working in an EMS pharmacy, equipment coordinator, supervisor, dispatcher) that came to mind as being a good fit for someone with the disability you describe, but field work….?

(By the way, I know a number of medics with leg prostheses; these are relatively common and very easy to work with. I’m all in favor of disabled medics. I just didn’t think the job was physically doable with this kind of disability.)

Then I asked. I went into an EMS group and asked some people from all across the country. And the answers I got surprised me.

They were mostly along the lines of “oh totally, there’s one in Pittsburgh, she kicks ass” or “my old partner had a prosthetic forearm and hand, she could medic circles around the rest of her class”. One instructor said they had a student with just such a prosthesis, and wasn’t sure how to teach; the student said “just let me figure it out”, and by the end of the night they were doing very sensitive skills better than their classmates.

Because of that group I know of at least a half-dozen medics here in the US with forearm and hand prostheses.

So yes. You can totally have a character with one forearm, who works as a paramedic for a living.

Thanks again for sending this in. It broadened my worldview.

xoxo, Aunt Scripty

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