Tumgik
#I’m more concerned about the voices in your head
allmoshnobrain · 1 day
Text
Tumblr media
You're a short girl, and sometimes that messes with your confidence. Your boyfriend doesn't seem to care at all, though.
✦ on this fic: simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader, fluff, reader is short and it makes her a bit insecure
✦ a/n: this is my first time writing for anything other than metallica/megadeth/venom which is what i usually write for but i've been daydreaming a lot about this man and needed to get this out of my system 😭 also it was a great way to warm up and start writing again after my break!! hope u guys enjoy it 💖
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
It takes him a while to pick up on your insecurity.
It's subtle, and honestly, he’s not exactly great with subtle. He fails, at first, to catch the way you pout, the way you frown whenever you see a hot actress who’s taller than you, or a long dress you think would look better on someone with a few more inches.
He finally catches on, though, one night when you’re cooking dinner. It’s kind of a slip up, really — a tiring day and your period cramps the worst they’ve been in the last few hours just making it easier for you to get upset over the smallest thing. So when you can’t reach one of the trays on the top shelf and have to ask him to grab it, he turns around to see you teary-eyed and upset, which is not how this usually goes.
“Love?” he asks, his brow furrowing when he sees your state “What’s wrong?” He glances at the glass tray in his hands. “Did I grab the wrong one?”
“What? No, no, it’s fine,” you mutter, his confused look quickly shifting into worry when he notices the tears in your eyes.
“Hey,” he quickly puts the tray down and gently grabs your chin. “Talk to me. What is it?”
He’s firm, straightforward but not harsh, which just makes you feel even more ridiculous for almost crying over something so dumb.
“I’m being silly,” you say, but he shakes his head. 
“Don’t say that,” he mutters. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
That last part sounds almost like a command, his voice all firm and serious — something that would probably annoy you if he didn’t sound so genuinely concerned. You sigh.
“I wish I was taller,” you whisper, hoping he wouldn’t hear it, but he does. Of course he does.
“You wish you were taller?” he repeats, now more confused than worried. “Why?”
“I just don’t want to feel useless, always needing your help,” you half-lie, because that’s not really it.  And of course, Simon knows — he always does. You can tell by the way he raises his eyebrow slightly at you, disarming you instantly. “I wish I was prettier,” you finally mutter.
“You are pretty,” he says slowly, like he’s still trying to figure out where all this is coming from. “You’re beautiful. And I like helping you.”
“But tall girls are… More beautiful,” you sniffle, and he snorts.
“Who said that?”
“I said,” you frown. “Like, every time I see a cute dress that’s too long, I just think I can’t wear it. It won’t look right on me. I always feel like I can only look cute, but sometimes I want to look, I don’t know, gorgeous. Tall girls just always seem to look gorgeous to me, and I...”
“Oh, shush,” Simon grumbles, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. He tilts your chin up gently so you’re looking at him. “You are gorgeous. And you’re beautiful, and you’re mine. And I like you small — easier to hold.”
You can’t help but laugh. It’s shaky, and you try to hold it back, wanting to stay in your little pity party a bit longer. I mean, seriously, what does he mean by "you’re gorgeous" when you feel the exact opposite?
"Easier to hold?" you say, trying to sound offended but failing as a giggle slips out.
"There she is," he hums, kissing the corner of your mouth, and that’s when you realize you’re smiling. "My girl. Don’t be upset, love. You don’t need to be taller to be pretty. And if you ever need to reach for something, well, that’s what I’m here for."
“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” you tease. He lets out an exasperated sigh.
“I’m not.”
“You are!”
“Goddammit, woman. Will you quit trying to convince me you’re not beautiful? It’s not happening,” he frowns, then leans in, pressing a small, tender kiss to your lips. His arms wrapped around you are comfortable, warm and firm and feel like home.
It never fails to disarm you, how soft he can be. Out of the blue, always when you’re not really expecting it. Just when you think you’ve finally managed to annoy him or maybe this is the time he’s gonna get tired of you. He never fails to prove you wrong. 
He never fails to prove that he loves you, just the way you are.
Tumblr media
172 notes · View notes
springgirlshowers · 3 days
Text
Let Me Show You
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: You haven’t been feeling very pretty lately, Joost decides to prove you wrong, and he won’t let you finish until you admit that you are.
CW: negative self talk/self image, tiny bit of crying, body worship, teasing, praise, so much foreplay, fingering, cunnilingus, edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, i use google translate for dutch (im sorry 😭)
WC: 2827
A/N: i wassss gonna wait to post this, but i couldn’t help myself it feels wrong to keep the world waiting </33 challenge: take a shot every time the word “kiss” is said in this fic
Tumblr media
You hadn’t been feeling well at all today.
Not in the sick with the flu sort of well, more of just not feeling well with yourself. Not feeling content with yourself.
It started in the morning, when you stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Joost was already gone, needing to stop by Teuns to clean up a few songs.
You leaned forwards in the mirror, analyzing your face. Feeling disappointed at it, for some reason, it felt like every single tiny little flaw was extremely noticeable. Every blemish, every bump, every pore, it all felt so much more noticeable.
You pushed at the apple of your cheeks, then leaning away from the mirror to look at your body.
You turned to the side, looking at your stomach and squeezing the flesh. Dropping your arms weakly as you continued to stare at yourself.
You felt ugly. You hated it. You wanted to crawl out of your own body.
Since that was impossible, you threw on a matching pair of gray sweats. Then curling yourself into a ball under the sheets. Hiding away from the world.
About three hours later, you heard the door unlock and the sound of shoes being kicked off. Joost called out your name, stopping once he saw the sight of your back and head on the bed, the rest of you covered up by the duvet.
He knew you were awake, it was only a few minutes after 3PM.
He walked over to your side of the bed, sitting on the edge and smiling at you as he stroked your hair. He could already tell from the look on your face that you were upset.
“Hey, what’s going on?” He spoke softly, eyebrows knit together in concern.
“Nothing, I’m just a bit tired.” You shrugged, Joost let out a breath through his nose, seeing straight through your lie.
Joost was your lover, of course he knew the difference between a tired expression versus a gloomy expression on your face.
“I know it’s not that, schat. Something’s bothering you.” Your eyes darted away for a second, you were trying to decide if you should keep up this act of just being “tired” or be honest.
“It’s really nothing, Joost.”
“You keeping whatever it is bottled up is only gonna make it worse, liefje. Trust me, I would know.” Joost tutted, rubbing your thigh.
He was right, you would know as well. You’ve told him the same thing before when he’d be upset about something.
"I just..." You sighed as you sat up, already feeling embarrassed about your upcoming confession. "I haven't been feeling very pretty lately." Joosts face turned into an immediate frown.
"How? What's not pretty about you?" He sounded almost insulted, insulted by the fact you would think so negatively about you.
"My face looks wrong. My body looks wrong. I’ve got a tummy on me. I don't know. I don’t know how to explain it exactly, I just don't feel attractive." You sighed, dragging your hands down your face.
“We all have a tummy. I’ve got a tummy.” He poked his stomach, smiling looking at it and then back up at you.
You shook your head as an amused smile spread on your face, you pulled the duvet off the rest of your body due to the heat becoming uncomfortable.
“You know what I mean, Joost.” You silently groaned and put your face into your hands.
“I do. But I don’t care.” Joosts voice was smooth as he removed your hands from your face, your eyes were already watering, he let out a sympathetic hum.
“You might not think it. But you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
You knew Joost was telling the truth. Anytime he would look at you, he felt like he was looking at an a real life angel sent by God himself.
You were just too far deep in the rabbit hole of your negative self talk.
Tears began to slip from your eyes and you turned your head away, Joost still had his hands cupped lightly around your face.
“I’m sorry. You know I don’t look pretty when I cry.” You sniffled, wiping away tears with the back of your hand. “My face gets all pink and blotchy.”
Joost gently turned your face back to him, taking in all your beautiful features.
“I love your face. Even if it’s all pink and blotchy.” His words got a small laugh out of you, he grinned .
“You really think so?” You asked, voice still shaky.
“I know so.” He wiped away another tear from your cheek with his thumb. This was cliché, but you loved it. You loved him.
“I can prove it to you, if you want?” Joost raised his brows, you knew exactly what he was suggesting. You nodded happily.
He quickly put his lips against yours, kissing so passionately. So sweetly.
“I wanna make a deal, ja?” Joost said in between kisses. You nodded.
“I’m gonna show you how beautiful you are.” He kisses the corner of your mouth. “I’m going to tell you, show you until you know it’s true.” He kisses the other side. “And then…you’re gonna tell me how pretty you are, then I’ll make you cum. Ja?”
“Joost..” You mumbled out, flustered already.
“You okay with that deal?” He kissed your lips gently, brushing some hair out your face.
“Okay. Okay. We have a deal.” You giggled, eyes closing.
“Good.” He smiled, the type of smile that made you feel like you could melt straight into the sheets. He kissed you one more time before moving his lips along your jaw.
He moved his hand, rubbing his thumb softly over your bottom lip.
“You know how much I love your lips.” He ran his mouth along your jaw, before moving to hover his face over yours.
“And your nose. This cute little nose.” He gave you a peck just on the tip of your nose, tapping it after and making a little boop! noise.
His antics got a small sniffle and laugh out of you. God, he was so silly. So unserious in such an intimate moment like this. You loved it. It made your nervousness fade away.
He moved to kiss both your eyelids next, so silly.
“Your eyes, I could stare into them all day if you didn’t think it was so creepy.” He chuckled. “Zo mooi. Ik zie je gezicht in mijn dromen.” He whispered, quickly moving his mouth to your neck. Your breath hitched as he placed sloppy kisses all over it.
His mouth ran over that sweet spot that made you let out a soft whimper, you could feel his smirk against your skin.
“Mijn mooie meisje.” His breath against your neck tickled, making you inch away from it.
His hands began to slide underneath your baggy sweatshirt, sliding up and down before going up one last time and bringing your sweatshirt with him.
He soon did the same with your sweatpants as he moved his lips along your collarbones, you lifted your lips to help remove them. He tossed them on the floor, along with your top.
He pulled away from your skin to look at you in complete awe. You were a bit embarrassed due to your extremely plain underwear, you didn’t bother to put on a bra this morning. If you knew you’d be getting intimate today, you would’ve worn something nicer.
Yet Joost didn’t care, his face didn’t care at all. Still staring at you like you were a dream come true. You were.
“Can’t believe you’d want to hide such a gorgeous body like this.” He grazed his fingers down your arm, grabbing your hand and lifting it up to your mouth, kissing your knuckles.
Your hands came up unconsciously to conceal your chest. Joost didn’t let this happen. He intertwined his hands with each of yours, holding them against the mattress.
“Aw, no hiding. I wanna see these pretty tits of yours.” You bit your lip and turned your head away, surprised at his explicit words.
He quickly brought his lips to your chest, kissing all over it. Between the valley of your breasts, above and below them. Finally placing his mouth on one of them.
A sharp gasp let out of you, Joost chuckled against you. Sucking and nipping at your breast, leaving red and purpling hickies.
He took your nipple into his mouth, making you squirm and arch your back slightly, he moved one hand to your other breast. Squeezing and playing with it for a little before switching his mouths attention to that one.
He didn’t need words to tell you how much he loved your tits. The messy kisses from his mouth were enough.
He ignored the way his dick was hardening in his pants at the sounds of your whimpers and breaths of pleasure. This evening, he was focusing on you, and you only.
He trailed his lips down, stopping at your stomach. He dragged his hands down, sliding them to the sides of your waist and squeezing, making you shiver.
“You know how much I love your tummy. I can’t count the amount of times I’ve fallen asleep when I lay my head on it.” He pressed a kiss just below your bellybutton. “Such a cute stomach, I don’t get how you could be so embarrassed of such a beautiful tummy like this.”
You weren’t sure how your stomach could be beautiful. But then you remembered all the times you thought the same about Joosts, going insane over the sight of it.
“All day all I do is want to hold you. I dream about it when I’m away. Did you know that?” He looked up at you, he looked like a goddamn dream.
You shook your head and he gave you a dramatic pout.
“No? I guess I should’ve told you sooner.” He moved his hands and squeezed your hips, another giggle escaped you.
He trailed small, slow, pecks above the waistband of your underwear. Soon hooking his fingers underneath and pulling them down your legs. Kissing your thighs as he did so.
He parted your legs with gentle hands, letting out a coo of adoration at the sight of you. You blushed and bit your finger, turning your head to the side.
He brought a tattooed hand back up to the side of your face, turning your gaze back to him as his thumb smoothed over your cheek.
He smiled at you with a face of pure infatuation. Not needing words to say how he felt about you once again.
He leaned down, eloping his lips around yours as you brought your head up from the pillow, pushing into the kiss.
A finger came up to your clit, gathering your wetness, you let a shaky breath into his mouth.
“It’s okay.” He smiled. Making a beeline of kisses all the way down until his mouth stopped right above your clit.
He held onto your thighs, bringing them up and squeezing the plush of them in his hands, bending your legs.
“Oh, so soft. I’d live in between your legs if you let me.”
“Naughty boy.” You giggled.
“Just being truthful.” He shrugged, he watched in adoration as he rubbed his middle finger in between your folds, his finger already covered in your slick. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” He cooed.
He carefully inserted his finger inside you, staring at your face with a smile, watching how your mouth parted, eyes fluttering.
He came back up as his finger slowly pushed in and out, watching your face up close as he inserted a second finger.
“You ready to tell me what you are? Hm?” You tried your best to look at him as you let out a whiny moan. Which was your way of saying “Not really.”
“No? Then I should stop here, ja?” His fingers slowly began to pull out.
“Nononono. Pleasepleaseplease.” You breathed out, grabbing his hand to keep it from fully pulling away. He let out a defeated sigh.
“You’re lucky you’re so stunning. I’ll let you get away with it for now.” He kissed your cheek.
You let go of his wrist as his fingers began to pick up their pace once again, your eyes fluttering shut and mouth parting will small gasps.
He moved his mouth back to your chest, sucking at your tits, leaving little lovebites, you knew you’d be covered in red and purple marks by tomorrow.
He continued that same pattern of kissing trailing down until he reached your cunt.
“Cmon liefje, I need you to tell me how beautiful you are.” He rubbed his head against your thigh.
You shook your head as you bit down on your lip, eyes squeezing shut, you were already close to an orgasm.
“Hm, if you’re not gonna tell me, then I guess we’ll stop here.” He shrugged, puffing out his bottom lip as he removed his fingers from you.
“No!” You whined out at the sudden emptiness, cunt clenching around nothing. “Joost, you’re being mean.” You whined, hips squirming.
“Mm, I’m being fair. You tell me you’re pretty and I will let you cum.” He flicked a finger quickly against your clit, he grinned at the way your body jerked.
“Just admit what we both know is true.” He said in a sing-song voice. You rolled your eyes, frustrated.
“If you just tell me then I’ll give you want you want, liefje.” He teased again.
“Fine. I’m pretty.” You mumbled, you saw the way Joosts face perked up.
“Speak up schatje, I cannot hear you.” He could hear you, but he wanted to hear you loud and clear.
“I’m pretty.” You said, much louder this time.
“How pretty?” He cocked his head in a mocking manner, resting it against the plush of your thigh as his fingers slowly increased their speed.
Was he really doing this? Bastard.
“Really pretty. Fuck- I’m really pretty.” You said through shaky breaths.
“Ja, keep going.” He encouraged, licking a stripe up your cunt as his fingers pumped into you, and you whined again, he loved how flustered you looked.
He was eating you out like a man starved, his tongue deep and swirling circles around your clit, you weren’t even sure you’d be able to speak any coherent words.
“I’m pretty. God, fuck- I’m really pretty, Joost.” Your back began to arch off the bed, your hand reaching down to grip his hair as he hummed against your core.
“I’m so pretty, Joost. So so pretty, please. I’m beautiful, god. Fuck. Please, I’m pretty.” You begged, repeating it like it was a mantra. This was exactly Joosts goal.
“Dat klopt.” He pulled away from you to praise, his breath fanning against your cunt before he attached his lips back to it, beginning to suck on your clit.
Joost held onto your hips to still them. Your legs began to shake and the moans leaving you were borderline pornographic, loud and dramatic. But they were real, not forced.
“Joost, please, Joost. I’m pretty. Please can I cum? Please?” You begged, tears forming in your eyes. All the teasing before this made you so sensitive.
“Go ahead.” The vibration of his voice added to the pleasure, his fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot.
Finally, finally you were cumming. The waves of your orgasm crashing over you, the intensity making the tears in your eyes fall and trail down the sides of your face. Joost continued as you rode through the aftershock, squealing and crying out as your grip on his hair tightened. He moaned against your dripping core.
He finally pulled away once your moans became raspy and you were squirming around. His chin covered in your wetness while he had the most prideful cheesy grin on his face.
“Mijn prachtige meisje. You did so good. So good for me.” He whispered against your skin, pressing small kisses all around your pussy and onto your thighs. Your body twitched with each peck, already overstimulated from all the teasing he did.
He crawled back up to hover over you, wiping the tears that fell with a gentle hand. A saccharine smile on his face to match the saccharine kiss he gave you next. You were still so shaky and out of breath, eyes droopy as you looked at him.
“Feel any better?” He ran his fingers through your hair, scratching at your head, you leaned into his touch.
“Yeah…actually. Yeah.” You gave him a puzzled smile, not expecting this to actually work.
“See. I knew you’d try for me.” He smooched your forehead.
“I’m really sweaty, I need a bath.” You laughed, still breathless.
“I’ll run you one.” He sighed playfully, knowing that your words were a request.
“Will you carry me?” He let out another chuckle, shaking his head in amusement before scooping you up bridal style.
“I can never say no to you.”
Tumblr media
175 notes · View notes
brenwritesss · 8 hours
Text
Tru Fru part 5
Tumblr media
Paige Bueckers x reader
Summary: You miss your girlfriend too much, and she's completely whipped for you.
Warnings: smut and language
a/n: the final part of the Tru Fru series!! Have fun!!
It’s been seven months since you and Paige had made your relationship official and life couldn’t be any better. You loved waking up to her beautiful face every morning, going to every one of her home games at UConn, kissing her during the sunset, but most of all your favorite part was being loved by her. She spoiled you as if you were the only girl in her world. Every week followed the same routine: flowers, gifts, date nights, cuddles in bed, and sex. It was almost too good to be true. 
However, with the end of the semester approaching, that came with too much homework and studying, and not enough time. Being a STEM major was tough work, especially when all you wanted to do was spend the time you dedicated to your work on your girlfriend instead. What made matters worse was that Paige was away for a game, and the amount of phone calls, texts, and FaceTimes didn’t lessen the miserable feeling of missing her at all. Not to mention, with all the stress you had been having throughout the past week, not having her with you to release that tension and stress was beginning to show. 
You were sitting at your desk, so deep into your homework that you almost didn’t notice your phone ringing. You pick it up, Paige’s caller ID flashing across the screen. You couldn’t help the small frown that crept onto your face as you answered. “Hey.”
Paige’s voice that always soothed you came through your speakers. “Hey baby, I’m not interrupting anything right?”
You shook your head as if she was in the room with you. “No you’re not.”
“Ight, chill. You haven’t been responding to my texts all day so I got worried. Everything okay?” You could hear the genuine concern laced in her voice and it tugged at your heart. You didn’t mean to not respond, but with all the work you were doing and missing her, you kept pushing it off, not wanting her to see how much her being away was affecting you.
“Yeah, yeah I’m okay. Sorry, I’ve been studying all day that I haven’t really been on my phone.” That wasn’t a total lie.
“I miss you,” she paused. “Well, I always miss you so I bet you already knew that.”
You wanted to laugh but knowing that she missed you just as badly as you did made you want to break down. “I miss you too.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked you. In the seven months you had been dating, Paige had instantly learned how to read you, even when she wasn’t near you. 
“Nothing’s wrong,” you lie. “Why?”
“Y/n, you’re my girlfriend. You think I can’t tell when you’re lying? Talk to me, princess.” And this was the reason you fell in love with her. How she cared about you was unlike anything else you had ever experienced.
“I just…” you trailed off, debating if you actually wanted to tell her what had you upset. “I’m really stressed out.”
“With finals?” It was like she read your mind. Almost.
“Yeah.”
“Babe, how many times do I have to tell you that you got it in the bag,” she reassures you. “You’re the smartest girl I know. Not to mention the hottest.”
Thank God she wasn’t here to witness the blushing mess you had just turned into. You let out a small, breathless laugh. “Thank you.”
“But seriously, you’re putting way too much pressure on yourself. And I know this because I did the same thing when I was training, so I get it. But it’s not gonna help you," she paused and you could hear her take in a deep breath. "God, I wish I could hold you right now.” It was almost like she said that last part to herself and it made your heart jump.
“Yeah, I wish that too. I know I shouldn’t be doing too much, I just can’t help it. You’re not even here so I’m bored.” And that was when you heard her smug, deep laugh.
“Babe,” she says into the phone. “Don’t boost my ego like that.”
“Shut up.”
“Tell me how much you miss me.”
You sigh, only causing her to laugh more. “I miss you. A lot.”
“Yeah?” she asked you and you could just picture that hot smile on her face. “How much?”
“Too much,” you whispered into your phone.
“Don’t lie to me like that.”
“Okay, fine. I hate that I’m feeding your ego like this but I’m miserable without you.” You braced yourself for her reaction to your words.
“There it is,” she says while laughing. “It’s almost like I was expecting that answer.”
You roll your eyes. “Fuck off.”
“Fuck off? Hell no. Fuck you? Every damn day for the rest of my fucking life.” You’d be lying if you denied that Paige saying that did things to you.
“Don’t say things like that.”
“Why? Because it’ll get you all wet?” 
“Paige Bueckers, what the fuck is wrong with you?” And you stood by what you said. Paige knew exactly how she was making you feel because she had made you feel it almost every day for the past seven months.
“Answer a question for me baby.” You replied with a soft “hm”, telling her to continue. “Is one of the reasons that you’ve been missing me so much because you’re horny?”
You froze. Damn, she knew you well. “Maybe.”
“I fucking knew it. You’re horny. Babe, I’m making you wet right now aren’t I?” She spoke to you in that hot, soothing voice that just made you melt every time you heard it.
“Talking like that, what do you expect?”
“Send me a picture of that pretty pussy for me real quick. I need to see something,” she ordered. And as she had expected, you did just what she had asked because a few minutes later, you sent her a photo of your pussy, all wet for her. Did it take you a few tries to get the angle right? Yes. Did Paige need to know that? Hell fucking no.
Paige, still on the phone when the photo was sent, sighs heavily through the mic. You just knew she was staring at that picture. A few seconds passed before she sighed again, “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Wait what?” That girl was states away and was not expected back for another three days. What the hell did she mean by that?
“I don’t think your pussy can go three more days without some attention. I’ll be at your place by midnight, love you baby.” And with that, she hangs up on you.
It was in that moment that you knew Paige Bueckers was insanely whipped for you.
So naturally, you did what any other sane, sex-deprived college student who was missing her girlfriend would do and sent her another picture. Only this time, you made sure it was extra wet. Just how she liked it.
Paige ❤️
All wet for me
Better be laid out all pretty for me
Yeah, that did it. If it weren’t for the fact that you knew she would be here soon, you would have jumped in bed and gone to town. But Paige wants you all wet and pretty for her. And who were you to argue?
You felt as if you had lived through a hundred years before you heard a knock on your door. You wasted no time in almost running across your living room to the front door, grabbing the knob, and opening the door to reveal a tall and muscular Paige leaning against the doorframe, hands in her pocket. She lifted her eyes up from the floor and they landed on you, taking in the sight of you in your bra and her shorts. She pushed herself away from the doorframe and stepped closer to you. “Told you I’d be here in a few hours.”
Your throat went dry and you suddenly lost the ability to speak. Although, you figured that was only one of many times that would happen tonight. Paige walked in and shut the door behind her, not even waiting another second to wrap her big hands around you. The contact you had missed so much this week was finally back again and it made your heart flutter. 
Her arms tightened around your waist, gently picking you up as you wrapped your legs around her waist. “Missed you so much.”
“From those pictures, I could tell,” she says as her hands move to your ass to support you. She kisses your cheek, walking to your room. “I missed you too.”
“Need you right now.” Your words set a fire inside Paige as she practically threw you on your bed, ripping her shorts off you. Her hands roamed all over your body and that was when you believed that your body was created to fit her hands. It just fits so well.
“Fuck baby,” she whispered in your ear. “You have no idea how bad it was on that plane, looking at your pussy and not being able to touch her.”
“Just my pussy?” you asked her in the most innocent way possible with a look that made her shiver against you. You tugged at her shirt, pulling it off her with ease.
She took it from your hands and tossed it to the side. “Every damn part of you.” That was all she said before she devoured your tongue, sucking it in between her lips and creating a slobbery, wet mess between your mouths. You wanted to get her kisses tattooed on you, never forgetting them for the rest of your life.
Her hand brushes up your stomach, palming your breast and that’s when you feel a small surge of pleasure coarse through your body and straight to your core. She brings her mouth toward your right breast, cupping it in her hand as she gently rolls her tongue over your nipple. You moaned at the sudden rupture of heat from her tongue, raking your hands through her hair. She spits on it, licking it all up again. “Only mine to see and suck like this.”
“Mhm,” you breathe out, tightening your grip on her hair. “Only yours.”
She licks a line all the way up from your tits to your jaw, latching her mouth back onto yours. One of her hands steadies herself on the bed while the other grabs your leg and hooks it over her waist. Using that same hand, she rubs it up and down your thigh, leaving goosebumps after each trail. You tighten your leg around her waist which earns you a small moan that you could almost feel deep in the back of your throat. 
“Paige baby, please,” you whisper into her mouth. She lets go of your lips, leaving a trail of hot kisses down your neck. 
“Tell me what you want me to do.”
“Need you to fuck me,” you say bluntly. It was almost as if you could hear the low growl coming from her throat as it vibrated through your bones.
Her hand moved from rubbing your thigh to caressing your inner thigh, inching up higher and higher. The way she caressed your thighs perfectly made you whine out for more as she demolished your collarbones and neck. Her fingers moved toward your pretty pussy lips, practically feeling your arousal. She pulled away from your neck and looked down towards her fingers, admiring the sight below her. You whimpered at the feeling of her fingers on you, just teasing you. “Baby please.”
Paige goes back to kissing your neck, nipping at your skin occasionally. “Just relax, gonna get you so wet for me.”
She spends the next few minutes teasing you; circling your clit a few times then applying pressure as she slid her fingers down to your entrance, drawing an invisible circle around it, then dragging her fingers back up to your clit only to repeat the same pattern again. She had you a whimpering mess, grabbing at her back and her hair, lightly pulling at it. 
“Fuck, P,” you whined.
“Keep those beautiful words coming,” she says as she finally enters two fingers into your tight hole. You gasp as your grip on her shoulders tightens. You try to clench your legs together but she moves her knee in between them to keep them apart. And of course, knowing Paige, she had to say something about it too. “Don’t even think about it, princess.”
Her fingers thrust in and out and you could hear just how wet you were becoming. And to Paige, that was music to her ears almost as much as your moans were. And God, did you fucking love that sound of her fingers inside your cunt. “Paige, oh my–”
“Just like that,” she said, speeding up her movements which earned her another pornographic moan from you. She nodded at you. “Yeah, just like that.”
“That’s so fucking good, mmm,” you moaned, making direct eye contact with her. You were becoming soaked now and Paige knew that with a few more thrusts of her fingers, you’d be cumming onto her. And although seeing you cum on her fingers was one of her favorite things ever, she needed it to be better. To remind you how she was the only person who could even touch you like this. So she pulled out her fingers which resulted in an almost suctioning sound and stuck them into your mouth. “Taste yourself, pretty girl.”
You wasted no time in licking her fingers clean, even though you were slightly annoyed at the fact that she pulled them out before you could cum. “What are you doing?”
Paige smirked at you. “You tell me how much you miss me, I see your pussy, and I fly all the way over here, and you think I’m not gonna take my time and fuck the shit out of you?”
That’s when you knew you shouldn’t even think about making plans tomorrow. Or the next day after that. And maybe the day after that too. Before you could even say anything, she slides a box out from under your bed and pats your leg. “Give me two minutes and I’ll be right back. And I better not see your hands anywhere near your pussy when I get back.” She walks into the bathroom with the box.
You felt as if you couldn’t even function properly with your body almost shaking and feeling as if you were out of breath. You wait a couple minutes, starting to grow impatient trying to wait for Paige. Finally, she emerges from the bathroom, a nice, long, and thick strap attached to her waist. You widened your eyes at the sight of her just as you did every time you saw her wear it. Every time, you always questioned yourself as to whether or not you’d be able to take it. But Paige always made sure you knew that you could take it perfectly every time.
She walks up to you and uses her hands to push your legs farther apart. You quiver underneath her touch. She uses two fingers and slides them between your folds, letting them become coated in your juices. She then pulls her hand away and rubs it on her purple dick. The purple, plastic dick she used to fuck you so many times. Once her fingers transferred your coating onto the strap, she then ran it down your folds like she had just done with her fingers. You felt as if you could cum just from that and you wanted nothing more than to flip Paige onto her back and ride her.
“Tell me how much you missed this,” Paige orders you, aligning it against your entrance. You gasped at the movement and gripped onto the bedsheets.
“I–” you breathe out as she begins pushing it inside you. “Fuck.”
“Keep telling me,” she says, not pushing it in all the way.
“I needed you to–”
Your gasps stop you from talking as she begins to sink into you even more. You gather up your strength to moan out, “fuck me like this so badly.”
Paige finally lets the strap sink deep inside you. Your moans filled the air of your room and Paige watched you in awe. She admired everything about you in this state: the way your eyes lingered on her, the way your knuckles turned white from gripping the bedsheets and the way your back arched from taking it.
Paige began slowly thrusting, putting her hands on either side of your waist to gain more control while she thrusted it inside you. You were a moaning mess at this point and you didn’t know where to put your hands. You continuously moved them from the bedsheets to the pillow under your head, to the headboard. 
Paige took your moans as permission to increase her speed. As she moved faster against you, she gripped your hips harder. “Just like that. Taking me like a good girl.”
You could feel yourself getting more slick as she slid inside you every second. And you knew that at any point you were about to cum from her. Paige moved one of her hands from your hip to your nipple, rolling it between her fingers and then bringing her hand back to your hip. 
Paige can tell you’re about to cum and that’s when she not only continues to speed up, but begins to thrust a bit harder, hitting the spot that she knew would make you come undone right on her. “Can’t take it anymore,” you whine out just as she begins hitting that spot deep within you earning more loud moans.
“Yes you can baby, you always do,” Paige says as soothing as she could. “Now let me see that pretty pussy cum.”
And that combined with how deep she was hitting was all you needed to release. You cum right onto Paige’s dick as the knot in your stomach breaks. You almost cried out at the sensation. Paige rubbed circles on your hips and helped you ride out your high like she did every time. “Just like that,” she cooed.
You go numb on the mattress, holding your breath as Paige pulls out of you. You spend the next few minutes trying to regain control of your breathing and let your heart beat get back to normal as Paige takes off the strap. You almost could still feel her inside you and she’d never let you forget it. 
Finally, you gather the strength to speak, “You felt so good.”
Paige laughs as she slides the box underneath your bed. “You always take it like a princess.”
You laugh as your body is still trying to recover from being completely wrecked just a few minutes ago. Paige climbs into your bed, lying down beside you and wrapping her arms around you, pulling you closer to her. You lay your head on her chest, tracing random shapes on her abs. “I love you,” you whisper to her.
She kisses your head and pulls you as close as she can to her. “I love you too, princess.” You’re a smiling mess as you lie with her and enjoy the feeling of being in her arms. That is, until she speaks up, “So, you got any Tru Fru in the freezer?”
116 notes · View notes
writingrock · 19 hours
Text
before he leaves [1]
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairings: prohero! katsuki bakugou, prohero! eijiro kirishima, prohero! denki kaminari x reader (female) summary: your prohero husband is being called away to a two-week long mission. this is how he says goodbye.
notes: fluff, mild suggestive content, established relationship (married), prohero husband, it's just really cute and sweet, I can't say much more.
word count: 3.7k
a/n: for @onlyisaa becuz apparantly putting bakugou in a timeout is unacceptable
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Bakugou’s been called in for a mission overseas. It’s rare, but when it happens, you know it’s something serious. The night before, you couldn’t help but fuss over every little detail. You’d double-checked all of his luggage, then triple-checked it. And now you’re pacing around the room with your mind running through everything he might need. You’d gone over his gear so many times that even Bakugou, usually patient with your worry, had enough. 
“Damn it, woman,” he grumbled, grabbing you by the waist and physically dragging you to bed. You’d protested at first, but he ignored you, muttering under his breath, “You need to quit worrying so much, you’re driving me crazy.”
Despite his words, there was a softness in the way he pulled you into his arms, his grip firm but comforting. His frustration was just his way of masking how much he appreciated your care. He knew you worried because you loved him, but that didn’t stop him from teasing you about it. Even as you lay there, you could feel him quietly shaking his head in amusement, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk as he muttered, "My dear wife, always stressing." 
Still, as much as he tried to calm your nerves, there was a part of him that understood. Missions like this didn’t come often, and both of you knew the stakes. And despite the bravado, despite his confidence, Bakugou knew how hard it was for you every time he had to leave.
It’s five in the morning now, and you’re standing by the door, watching as he slips his phone and passport into his pocket. You stifle a yawn, your voice still groggy from sleep. “How long will you be gone again?”
“Two weeks,” he replies gruffly, his eyes meeting yours. You frown at his answer. Two weeks felt like forever without him. Did he really have to go? Your thoughts are full of protest, but you keep them to yourself.
“Are you sure you have everything?” you ask again, for what feels like the hundredth time. Bakugou lets out an exasperated groan, his head tilting back as he closes his eyes in frustration. 
“Woman, for the last time, yes, I’ve got everything,” he grumbles, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. His crimson eyes flick back to you, softening slightly despite the annoyance in his voice. “I’m not a damn rookie.”
You know he’s right, of course. Bakugou’s meticulous when it comes to preparation, probably more so than you are. Still, the thought of him leaving for two whole weeks on a dangerous mission makes your stomach twist in knots. You can’t help it— it’s in your nature to worry. And Bakugou knows that too.
He glances at you, and for a moment, his stern expression softens even more. He steps toward you, dropping his backpack onto the floor and resting his hands on your shoulders. “Hey,” he says, his voice lower now, gentler. “I’ve done this a million times. I’ll be fine.”
You nod, biting your lip, but he can see the lingering concern in your eyes. He sighs, pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap around you, strong and warm, and for a moment, you can pretend he’s not about to walk out the door.
“I’ve got everything, alright?” he murmurs against your hair. “Except maybe for one thing.”
You pull back slightly, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “What’s that?”
He smirks, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You. But I’ll be back before you know it.”
Does he really have to go?
“Yes, I have to go,” he grumbles, reading your thoughts as if they were spoken aloud. You groan softly and stay wrapped in his embrace. Two weeks without him. His strong, muscular arms, the ones you’ll miss most, tighten around you as you press your face against his broad chest, nuzzling into him with a quiet sigh. You take a deep inhale, filling your lungs with his familiar scent— the mix of his skin and that faint, rugged cologne you love so much. It’s comforting, grounding, and you cling to it, knowing it’ll be a while before you get to experience this again.
“I’ll miss you.” You softly whisper in his chest to which he chuckles. His arms seem to squeeze you a little tighter. 
“Yeah, I’ll miss you too,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, savouring the comfort of your presence. He’d definitely miss his pretty wife.
You look up, meeting his gaze. His crimson eyes, still soft with sleep, linger on you with that private smile he shows only to you. His sharp features seem gentler in the dim morning light, and for a moment, you both just exist in each other’s company.
Wordlessly, the both of you share a deep kiss. An intimate mix of love and longing. His hand cradles your cheek as your arms loop loosely around his neck. Reluctantly, the both of you pull away. You sigh softly from the loss of contact. He keeps you close as he gazes into your eyes, his forehead resting against yours. The beautiful eyes of his lover. 
“I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours in one last, tender kiss before stepping back. You pout a little as his arms fall away, but you know he has to leave.
“I love you,” you say, voice tinged with a reluctant acceptance.
“I love you too,” he replies.
You watch as he picks up his luggage and heads to the car. Standing in the doorway, you call out after him, your voice echoing through the quiet morning.
“Text me updates!”
“I will!”
“And when you’re on the plane—”
“I know!”
“And call me when you get to the hotel!”
“Dammit, woman, I know!” he yells back, a mix of exasperation and fondness in his tone.
Exactly an hour and thirty-seven minutes later, your phone buzzes with a message from him. He’s reached the airport. Twenty minutes later, another text arrives to tell you that he’s checked in. 
Two hours pass, and your phone lights up again with a photo of him and his colleagues on the jet. He looks as sharp as ever, though there’s the usual trace of annoyance in his expression. And next to him were sheepish looking Red Riot and ChargeBolt. His message follows right after: They were late. Typical.
You smile at his grumbling, imagining him sitting there, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. Even from thousands of miles away, it’s like he’s right there with you, sharing his usual complaints.
Tumblr media
You watch Kirishima stretch in the morning light. His muscles ripples beneath his tanned skin as he works out the tension from his body. He’s seated at the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. The broad back you love so much, facing you. Kirishima’s back is adorned with battle scars, each with their own battle-hardened tale. The scars stretch over his powerful frame and you feel rather tempted to reach out to touch them.
As he stretches his arms out to the sides, twisting slightly to loosen up, your eyes skirt over the fresh scratches running along his skin. Scratches you left from the night before. The memory of it stirs something warm inside you, and you can’t help but let a soft giggle escape your lips.
Upon hearing your fit of giggles, he pauses mid-stretch. Glancing over his shoulder with a knowing smirk on his lips. "What’s so funny?" he teases, his voice still a little raspy from sleep, but there's an unmistakable playfulness in his tone. 
“Just admiring my work.” you comment, referring to the latest addition of scratches on his back. He chuckles softly, replaying the events of last night in his head. It was a rather vigorous night. He needed that time with you, though. With a two-week mission ahead, he already knows how much he’s going to miss you. 
He practically jumps back into bed, sweeping you into his strong, muscular arms as if he can't bear to be away from you for another second. His lips find yours in a tender kiss before he nuzzles into the curve of your neck, planting soft, fluttery kisses along your skin. His lips trace over the bite marks he left behind last night, a reminder of the intimacy. 
For a moment, there's only the sound of your steady breathing and the quiet intimacy of the morning. Then, you break the silence, your voice still soft and hazy from sleep. “Do you have to go?” Your hand gently combs through his messy red hair, and he responds with a low hum of affirmation, his teeth grazing your neck playfully, causing a shiver to run through you. 
“I don’t want to,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little rough, “but I have to.” 
He rises slightly, hovering over you, his gaze tender as he takes in your sleepy features. His hand, warm and calloused, cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin as if memorizing every detail. He’s going to miss you—more than he can express.
You're the reason he’s not in the shower yet. The reason he’s still in bed, holding you close instead of gearing up or standing by the door. He’s prolonging every second he has with you, delaying the inevitable because leaving you feels harder than the mission itself. He knows he's late, that he should already be in the shower, getting ready for the mission. His gear should be laid out, his mind focused on the tasks ahead. But here he is, unable to leave your side.
He knows his hero partner will yell at him.
But how could he resist his beautiful wife?
You know he’s running late too, but you don’t care. Shifting up from the bed, you lazily loop your arms around him, pressing your cheek against his warm, broad back. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you settle into him.
“I’ll miss you,” you murmur, breathing in his familiar scent, already knowing you’ll be raiding his closet the moment he’s gone, wrapping yourself in whatever he leaves behind.
“I’ll miss you more,” Kirishima replies, his voice full of warmth. You can’t see the smile on his face, but you feel it in the way his muscles relax under your touch, the way his words come out soft and sincere.
What time is it? You glance at the digital clock on the bedside table. Six in the morning? He's definitely getting yelled at. A quiet chuckle escapes you as you loosen your grip around him.
“It’s six,” you say, a playful warning in your tone.
“I know,” he groans, clearly aware of the trouble he's in.
“He’s going to kill you.”
Kirishima just laughs softly. “I’ll survive—gotta come back to you.” His words make you laugh, and as you release him, he turns to face you with that toothy grin you’ve always loved.
Just as Kirishima leans in to kiss you, his phone rings, cutting the moment short. A loud groan escapes his lips as he checks the caller ID. He glances at you, a dry chuckle slipping out before he answers.
He doesn’t even need to speak— Bakugou’s voice is already blaring through the speaker, barking orders. You can hear it loud and clear, his usual demanding tone carrying through the room. “Get your ass up, Eijiro!” 
Kirishima doesn’t argue, knowing full well Bakugou had already anticipated this. With a quick tap, he ends the call, tossing the phone back onto the nightstand with a sigh. He knew he brought this on himself, but it’s far too early for all that yelling.
“You heard that, right?” Kirishima asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. 
You nod with a soft chuckle, still amused. “Yeah, pretty much. You should clean up,” you hum, playfully nudging him.
He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Wanna join me?” 
“Eijiro.”
“Fine, fine,” he grumbles, finally getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. His broad figure disappears behind the door, and you roll your eyes fondly, watching him go. As much as he’s procrastinating, you know he’ll eventually get it together—because, at the end of the day, he’s always reliable. Even if he’s late.
Before you know it, Kirishima is already by the door, fully dressed with his suitcase in hand. The image of him shirtless and relaxed on the bed feels like a distant memory as you stand in front of him, sharing one last deep kiss before he leaves. It’s slow and lingering, filled with the kind of warmth that you’ll hold onto while he’s gone. When you finally part, it’s with a soft peck on the lips, and a smile as you watch him step outside.
You wave as he loads his suitcase into the car, and he shoots you that familiar, reassuring grin before the door closes behind him. The car pulls away, and the house feels quieter already.
Two hours pass, and your phone buzzes with a new message. You open it to find an image of a rather grumpy-looking Dynamight, arms crossed and glaring from his seat on the plane. Next to him, Chargebolt is flashing a sheepish grin, holding up a peace sign. You can almost hear Bakugou grumbling under his breath about something ridiculous, probably annoyed with everything around him. 
Kirishima’s caption reads: “Already regretting this trip. Look at these idiots.” 
You laugh, texting him back quickly, already missing him but feeling a little lighter knowing he's surrounded by his friends and trusted co-workers. He’ll be in your arms again soon.
Tumblr media
“Five more minutes.” 
Denki mumbles, his voice muffled as he snuggles deeper into your embrace. He’s still in bed, arms wrapped tightly around you, clinging like he’s never going to let go. You let out a soft hum as your fingers comb through his messy blond hair, the strands wild from sleep and so uniquely him. His head rests against your chest, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you look down at him—the pro-hero you love so much, completely content in your arms.
But this is also the very late pro-hero.
“You’re going to be late, Denks,” you murmur, your voice gentle but with a hint of amusement.
He grunts in reply, barely acknowledging your words as he shrugs and buries his face even further into your chest, clearly not bothered by the reality of the situation. “Don’t care,” he mutters, his voice rumbling against your skin. He’s warm, cosy, and in no rush to leave. Being tangled up with you is the only thing that matters in the world right now.
You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “You say that now, but wait until Bakugou gets on your case for being late again.”
“I’m not scared of him,” Denki just huffs, his arms tightening around you as if to say let him try. You know he’s dreading the inevitable lecture, but right now, he’d rather enjoy every last second with you. And honestly, you’re not complaining.
The two of you lay there peacefully, soaking in the morning light peeking through the windows. You’re already thinking about how much you’ll miss him during his two-week mission. It’s not often he’s called away for that long, but when he is, you understand. That’s the life of a pro-hero. And while the thought of being apart tugs at your heart, you couldn’t be more proud of him for what he does.
“I’ll miss you,” Denki murmurs into your skin, his breath warm against your chest as he looks up at you. His toned arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. His electrifying touch trails in soothing circles across your skin, making you feel that familiar buzz only he can give. He sighs softly, like he’s already dreading the distance. At that moment, you realise just how much you’re going to miss the way he holds you. The warmth of his affection that never fails to make you feel safe.
You smile down at him, your fingers still running through his messy blond hair. “What are you going to miss the most about me?” you ask playfully, your tone light, though a part of you genuinely wonders what his answer will be.
He pauses, his gaze drifting downward to your chest, a playful grin spreading across his face. You immediately catch on, rolling your eyes and swatting him lightly on the head. “Denki!” you scold, but you can’t help laughing as the both of you break into soft chuckles.
He rubs the back of his head, still grinning like a mischievous kid caught in the act. “What? Can you blame me?” he teases, but when he sees the look on your face, he lets out a small sigh, shaking his head as if to reset himself.
“Okay, okay,” he says, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Real answer now.”
Denki’s lips curl into a smile, but his eyes stay soft, thoughtful. “Everything,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “The way you smile at me when I walk through the door, the way you run your fingers through my hair like this…” He trails off, propping himself up on one elbow.
Looking deep into your eyes, his usual playful energy is tempered by the sincerity that only comes out in moments like these. “I’m gonna miss the way you make everything feel... normal. Like, when I’m out there, saving the day and dealing with all the hero stuff, it’s easy to forget who I really am sometimes. But with you,” he pauses, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes over your skin, “you remind me that I’m more than just a pro-hero. You remind me that I’m enough, just as I am. That I’m just Denki Kaminari.”
His words make your heart swell, and for a moment, you forget about the two weeks ahead. All that matters is here and now, with him in your arms, holding onto you like you’re the most important thing in his world.
Just then, his phone rings, interrupting the peaceful moment. As Denki picks it up, you glance at the screen and catch the time—half past six in the morning. Oh, he’s much later than you’d initially thought. It’s not Bakugou calling, but Kirishima instead. You can hear his deep, concerned voice on the other end, “Dude, get up. He’s already pissed.”
Before the words even fully register, Denki’s already scrambling, bolting upright and pulling on his boxers in a flurry of movement. The sudden shift from lazy cuddles to frantic dressing makes you burst out laughing. He’s rushing so fast that he practically trips over his own feet as he throws open the closet doors, rifling through his clothes in search of something to wear.
“How did you know I wasn’t already out the door?” Denki fires back at Kirishima, balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder while simultaneously struggling to put his clothes on. His words are defensive, but the slight panic in his voice gives him away. He’s juggling a pair of pants in one hand, sliding them on while trying to pull a shirt over his head with the other, looking every bit the chaotic mess you love.
You can’t help but chuckle at the scene— Denki hopping around, trying to get his pants on without losing grip on the phone or his dignity. "Because if you were, you wouldn’t be half-dressed and panicking right now," you tease, watching as he stumbles into his shoes, still fumbling with his shirt.
Denki flashes you a sheepish grin, clearly caught, but he doesn’t miss a beat as he finally manages to get his pants on properly. “I was about to be out the door,” he mutters into the phone, knowing full well that no one’s buying it.
“Tell him I’m—” Denki starts as he finds his packed luggage. Thank god he packed the night before. 
“Already on your way?” Kirishima cuts in with a laugh. “Yeah, you can tell him that yourself. You know how he gets when we’re late. He’s already chewed me out. Hurry up man or you’re next.”
It’s hard to hold in your laughter at the situation. Denki shoots you a panicked glare as he starts moving out of the bedroom. “I’ll be out in two seconds!” he says into the phone, though both you and Kirishima know that’s a lie. 
You shake your head, still laughing softly, as you follow him out of the bedroom. Amused by the whirlwind that is your husband in a rush. He’s darting around the living room, frantically patting down his pockets to make sure he’s got everything. The sight is pure Denki— chaotic, yet somehow endearing.
As he’s about to bolt out the door, you catch sight of his passport sitting on the kitchen counter. With a smile, you grab it and walk over, holding it out to him just as he turns in circles, looking confused. “Looking for this?” you tease, waving the passport in front of his face.
His eyes light up with relief. “You’re a lifesaver,” he says, leaning in for a quick kiss.
Before he can rush off again, you grab his arm and pull him in for one last peck on the cheek. “Be safe, okay? And text me when you land.”
He flashes you that playful, electric grin, eyes twinkling. “Promise. Love you.” Then, with a wink, he’s out the door, shoes half-tied, practically running to avoid Bakugou’s wrath.
You lean against the doorframe, still smiling as you watch him disappear down the street. Even in his frantic state, there’s something about him that makes you fall in love with him all over again, every time.
Two hours later, your phone buzzes with a message from your husband. You unlock it to find several crying emojis, and you can already feel the laughter bubbling up before you even open the image. When you do, you’re greeted with a snapshot of chaos: a very pissed off Dynamight, glaring daggers at Denki, looking ready to lunge at him. Red Riot is in the background, struggling to hold Bakugou back, his arms wrapped around Dynamight in a full bear hug, clearly doing his best to keep things under control.
Denki’s sheepish grin isn’t doing him any favours either. His expression is simply the statement of "I'm in trouble". You stifle a laugh as you text him back. 
Tumblr media
a/n: there will be a part two of this with deku, shoto and sero! I only had energy to write these three idiots xP
border credits: @/enchanthings & @/adornedwithlight
Tumblr media
138 notes · View notes
strwberri-milk · 1 day
Text
i hate you
Rafayel x Reader || Fluff, Rafayel's a Bully || 1, 140 words
Tumblr media
The burst of giggles dies in your throat as the bed finally settles, no longer bouncing as Rafayel lays himself next to you. You barely get the chance to look at him before he’s aggressively pulling at you, putting you against his chest and sighing happily as your face instinctively goes to settle at the crook of his neck. Your arms wrap around him, holding him tightly as he pulls the blanket over the two of you, seabreeze outside a little chilly but smelling too sweet for either of you to contemplate closing the window. 
Playfully, you nip at his throat, the yelp he gives you in conjunction with the slight smack against your back always worth it because you know his face is bright red from the attention you’re giving him. He pulls back slightly, the warmth of your breath and his skin hanging in the air before he leans down to kiss you. His lips push and pull against yours slowly, thumb stroking against your bottom lip. 
“What do you think you’re doing down there, huh?” he asks, voice distinctively raspy as he presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek. 
“You’re not supposed to try and eat me. I’m cooking dinner for you later.”
“I just wanted a taste. You’re making seafood tonight, aren’t you?” you laugh, burying your face back into his neck to nip lightly at him again. 
You feel his fingers press into your back again, nails lightly digging into you. Despite his words, everything about him was keening for you to touch him more, begging for your attention with every fiber of his being. 
“Don’t - don’t do that,” he says with a whine. 
He allows you to indulge for just a little bit longer before finally overpowering you. He pins your hands over your head, burying his face into your neck and collar as he gives you a taste of your medicine. His lips skirt over your skin, biting you hard enough to leave some marks as a gift.
“I love you,” he says sweetly, pressing a kiss behind your ear. 
You feel your face heat up, able to take your hands back from him as you cover your face, shaking your head slightly as you whine. 
“What? Did I say something weird?” 
“Don’t say stuff like that,” you mumble, looking away from him. 
He looks at you with a bit of concern in his eyes, raising a brow.
“What’s the matter? Did I…did I do something?”
You can hear the soft tone in his voice, clearly a little panicked that he somehow hurt you. Even the way he rests above your body is gentler, making you feel bad for making him doubt even an ounce of your affection for him. 
“No! Nothing like that I just…”
You fall silent, trying to figure out what you want to say to him. Unfortunately for you he takes that as an opportunity, beginning to pepper you in kisses again.
“I love you so much though. You’re the love of my life, the only reason I get up in the morning. Don’t hide yourself from me,” he pouts, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. 
When you meet his eyes again he smiles at you, arms wrapping around  you as he presses another kiss to your lips. 
“There you are. Look at you - what a perfect little thing.”
Your heart bursts with affection for the man on top of you, overwhelmed just the slightest bit. 
“Don’t do that - I like it better when you’re mean to me!” 
The words leave you so abruptly he thinks he misheard you. However, when you turn your face away from him for the nth time he slowly starts to put together the pieces of the puzzle, a smirk gracing his features. 
“Is that so?”
“Don’t take it the wrong way! I just - you’re so - god, you’re infuriating,” you finally decide, leaning wholly into the idea of him bullying you despite knowing that it’s incredibly far from the truth. 
“I’d rather you tell me how much you hate me than butter me up with sweet words.”
“You don’t mean that. No, no I know you don’t. You want me to tell you that I’ve fallen in love with you time and time again just from the way you look at me. That if I died tomorrow I’d be content with just the memory of you, that every moment you choose to be with me I find myself holding back the urge to sink to my knees and pray that you never leave my side.”
“Rafayel!” you scold, pulling the blankets over your face to try and escape his sweet words.
“No, maybe you’re onto something actually,” he says suddenly, pulling back the blanket. 
“Maybe I do hate you.”
The words hang in the air. You know he doesn’t mean it - he’s probably just being dramatic. You look up at him through your lashes, trying to ascertain the expression on his face. He looks as though he’s pondering something, trailing a finger down your jawline.
“Mmm, yeah, I think I do,” he muses to himself before pressing his thumb against your bottom lip as your breath hitches. 
“I hate the way you fit perfectly into my arms whenever I hold you. I hate the way you call out my name, the way my heart forgets how to beat whenever you come near. It’s tiring you know - to love you as much as I do.” 
He speaks so reverentially you think you’ll break. 
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, a slight whine sitting in your throat as you processed his words. The dam bursts and you feel tears beginning to slide down your cheeks. Rafayel coos at you sweetly, wiping away your tears with his thumb as he hums, peppering your face in kisses. Before you realise it you’re crying out loud, breath catching as you hiccup slightly from the mess of emotions he stirs up in your chest, beating your fists against him weakly. 
“I’m such a mean boyfriend, aren’t I? I make the love of my life cry in my arms and I have no idea what to say to make it all better,” he says lowly, laying down next to you and pulling you into his arms. 
“All you do is bully me!” you say mournfully, tears a result of your love for him as you bury your face into his chest. 
“I know, I know, I’m so cruel aren’t I?”
You nod childishly, letting him take care of you. His hands gently run over your body, kissing away the salt of your tears as he continues to speak to you quietly. 
“I’m sorry sweetheart but you’re going to have to get used to it. 
“I’m going to hate you for the rest of my life.”
94 notes · View notes
simplygojo · 1 day
Text
Care Between the Chaos
Author's Note: Hey y'allll, guess what I'm doing...preparing for a super important job interview!! So guess what I wrote...? Pretty boy Suguru Geto taking care of the reader while she preps for a super important interview!!! LOL at this point I cannot deny the projection allegations. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this sweet oneshot. I LOVE Y'ALL SO MUCH <3
Also, as always, request are open and encouraged! Here are my request guidelines if you're interested, there are also some prompts on there if you need inspo!
Pairing: Modern AU!Suguru Geto x f!reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: Your heart will feel super warm and fuzzy...lol
Tumblr media
The golden light of the late afternoon sun had long since surrendered to the deepening twilight, and the harsh, artificial glow of the desk lamp now lighted your room. Your desk was a chaotic battlefield of papers, textbooks, and highlighters, all surrounding your overheating laptop in the centre.
Every surface was cluttered—each corner of the room seemed to reflect the mounting pressure you felt. The soft hum of the old pot lights above you constantly reminded you of the hours you had spent, and the hours yet to come.
The minutes ticked by with excruciating slowness as you pored over your notes, trying to grasp every detail and nuance needed for your important job interview. Your eyes were gritty from staring at the screen, and your mind was clouded with anxiety.
You took a deep breath, trying to focus, but the weight of the impending deadline felt almost unbearable.
This job was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and you did not intend on screwing that up. You had been preparing for about a week, but with less than 24 hours until the interview, you felt as if nothing you did was enough.
The door to your study room creaked open, and your lovely boyfriend, Suguu Geto, stepped inside. A visible concern accompanied his usually effortless charm as he observed the disarray of your office. He moved quietly, his eyes scanning the room before they settled on you. The sight of you hunched over your desk, surrounded by the chaos of your preparations, tugged at his heartstrings.
“Hey, love,” he said softly, his voice a gentle balm against the relentless noise of your stress. His tone was soothing, almost musical, meant to cut through the fog of your anxiety. “How’s it going?”
You glanced up briefly, your eyes tired and red-rimmed. “It’s going alright,” you murmured, your voice lacking its usual vibrancy. “Just a bit more to do before the interview.”
Geto shook his head, a small, understanding smile playing on his lips. He placed a wooden tray on the edge of your desk, positioning it delicately beside your chaos.
You hadn't even noticed him holding the tray as he walked in. It was a thoughtful assortment of comfort foods: freshly baked chocolate chip cookies with their edges perfectly golden, carefully cut slices of fruit, and a neatly wrapped sandwich. The sight of it was like a warm hug for your weary soul.
“Take a break,” Geto said, his voice carrying a tender authority. “You’ll need more than just caffeine to get through this—eat something y/n.” He said, moving to stand behind you, placing his large hands gently on your shoulders after running his fingers through your hair. You reached for a cookie, the rich, sweet aroma providing a momentary escape from the relentless pressure.
The gooey chocolate and soft dough offered a fleeting but much-needed distraction as you bit into it. You closed your eyes for a moment, savouring the taste and the comfort that came with it. “Mmmmm…This is delicious, Suguru.” You said as he leaned down, placing a loving kiss on the top of your head. You smiled softly and tilted your head back to look up at his pretty face.
“I will eat, I promise, you’re so sweet for this…but I can’t take a break right now, baby. I’m sorry.”
Geto watched you with a soft smile, his heart swelling with affection. He saw the tension in your shoulders, the furrow in your brow, and the way you continually rubbed your tired eyes. He knew that a simple snack was only the beginning of what you needed. “Do you need me to help with anything?” He asked, but he knew the answer you were about to say. “Sorry, but now, I just need to keep preparing.” He nodded and planted another kiss on your temple before leaving you to continue your interview prep.
The hours passed slowly, the light from the desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. You continued working, your focus wavering as fatigue began to take its toll.
As if on cue, Suguru entered the room, carrying a soft blanket and a hairbrush, but you did not notice him as your face was buried in your computer screen.
He draped the blanket over your shoulders, its softness immediately providing a sense of comfort as you turned your head quickly to meet his gentle gaze. As he tucked it around you, he noticed the tension in your posture. He gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch both soothing and affectionate. “Mmm…thank you, baby.” You cooed, letting your body relax under the warmth.
“You should take a break,” he suggested again, his voice soft yet firm. “You’ve been at this for hours. I hate to see you so stressed.”
You shook your head, “I can’t stop now,” you protested weakly, your voice a mix of determination and exhaustion. “There’s still so much to do, and I don’t wnat to waste tim-.”
“Nonsense,” Geto countered before you could finish your thought with a playful firmness. “You need to take care of yourself too. I’m here to help.”
With that, he pulled up a chair behind you and began to work on your hair. His fingers were skilled and gentle, moving with practiced ease as he untangled the knots with his hairbrush and began braiding your hair. The rhythmic motion of his hands was both calming and intimate, each touch designed to ease away the stress that had accumulated from your long hours of work.
As he worked, you could feel the tension in your head and shoulders slowly melting away. The sensation of his familiar touch, combined with the warmth of the blanket was a welcome relief.
Your thoughts began to drift and your eyelids fluttered shut, momentarily distracted from the relentless pressure of your preparations. The soft, rhythmic motion of his hands was like a lullaby, drawing you away from the stress and into a state of calm.
Suguru’s was focused on making sure you felt cared for. He knew that even the smallest gestures could make a big difference in how you felt. His thoughts were filled with a mixture of concern and affection as he continued to braid your hair, each movement designed to bring you comfort.
Suguru’s attention to your needs was instinctive. He knew that even the smallest gestures—a touch, a word—could make a big difference.
His love was quiet, expressed not in grand gestures but in these moments of care, where he sought to lighten your load without taking anything away from your independence.
After finishing the braid, he leaned forward, his warm breath brushing your skin as he kissed the crown of your head softly, lingering just a moment too long.
“You’re doing great,” he whispered, his lips grazing your temple before planting another tender kiss on your cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”
His words, gentle and sincere, filled the room like a warm, protective aura. You smiled despite the exhaustion weighing down on your body.
A part of you wanted to surrender to his care completely, to let him whisk you away from the burden of responsibility. But that determined part of you—the one that had carried you this far, wouldn’t let you rest just yet.
You turned in your chair to face him, giving him a tired but appreciative smile. “You’re too good to me,” you murmured, reaching up to cup his face. “But I can’t rest, Suguru. Not yet.”
He chuckled softly, the low sound reverberating through his chest as he held your gaze. His dark eyes were filled with warmth, a reflection of the depth of his feelings for you.
“I think you deserve a break,” he said, placing a soft kiss on your lips this time. His kiss was slow, delicate—enough to tempt you into abiding, but not enough to fully pull you away from your tasks.
When he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, and for a moment, the world outside of the two of you seemed to disappear.
“Stay here,” you whispered, though a teasing smile played on your lips. “But… let me finish. Just a little longer?”
Geto sighed theatrically, though the fondness in his gaze never wavered. “You are impossibly stubborn, you know that?”
You chuckled, brushing a thumb across his cheek. “I know. But that’s why you love me.”
He smirked, leaning in for one more kiss, this one a little firmer, a little more insistent. It was a kiss that promised more, but also one that said, I’ll wait.
“You’re right,” he murmured against your lips. “That’s exactly why.”
With a gentle squeeze of your hand, Geto reluctantly pulled away, though not without one last, lingering look that left your heart fluttering. He straightened up, his hands trailing down your arms as he rose to his feet.
“I’ll be in the other room,” he said, his voice soft but tinged with the unspoken promise that he’d return if you needed him.
You nodded, biting back another smile as you turned back to your work.
The desk lamp cast its warm glow over the papers once more, but this time, the weight on your shoulders felt lighter—knowing Suguru was there, just a room away, gave you the strength to push through.
You sighed contentedly, feeling the remnants of his tender living care wrapped around you like the blanket he had so thoughtfully draped over your shoulders. Suguru’s love was quiet, persistent, and steady. And in this moment, even in the midst of your stress, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky to have him.
The hours dragged on as the hum of your laptop filled the quiet room. Despite Suguru’s care and the warmth of the blanket over your shoulders, you continued to push through. The stress of preparing for the interview was like a weight on your chest, driving you to review every last detail of your presentation.
Fatigue gnawed at your senses, but you stubbornly ignored it.
Your fingers moved slowly over the keyboard, eyes struggling to focus on the words that had long since blurred. You barely noticed the dim light of your screen, and the quiet of the house settled into a calming lull.
Suguru, ever mindful, peeked into your office from time to time. He could see the way your head drooped closer to the screen, the way your back slumped in the chair, the exhaustion etched in your every movement.
After what felt like an eternity, Suguru decided enough was enough. He reappeared at the doorway of your office, a glass of water in hand.
As he approached, he saw your body had finally succumbed to the exhaustion you had been fighting. Your head was resting on your folded arms atop the desk, the faint glow of the laptop barely illuminating your peaceful face.
The screen had dimmed automatically, its light reflecting softly off your skin, casting long shadows across the room.
Suguru’s steps softened as he entered the room, not wanting to disturb you. He set the glass of water down quietly beside the untouched cup of tea he had brought earlier and knelt beside you, taking in the sight of your sleeping form.
The tension that had lined your features throughout the day had finally faded, leaving you with an expression of serenity. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he brushed a few strands of hair out of your face, tucking them gently behind your ear.
His gaze lingered, his heart swelling with warmth and affection.
You had worked yourself to the point of exhaustion, and as much as he admired your dedication, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for letting you get this far without insisting on rest.
He knew how much this interview meant to you, but he also knew that you needed sleep just as much.
Suguru rose to his feet, stepping behind your chair as he gently placed a hand on your shoulder. “Y/n,” he whispered softly, his voice barely above a breath. There was no response. You were too far gone in sleep to even stir. He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "Stubborn as always."
Without another word, he slipped his arms beneath you, careful not to wake you as he lifted your limp form from the chair. Your head lolled softly against his chest as he cradled you in his strong arms, the weight of your body nothing compared to the warmth in his heart. The blanket that had once been draped over your shoulders fell away—forgotten as Suguru began to carry you out of the office.
The hallway was dark, lit only by the dim light of the moon filtering through the windows. The soft sound of his footsteps was the only noise in the stillness of the house. He glanced down at you as he walked, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest as you slept soundly against him.
As he reached the bedroom, Suguru nudged the door open with his foot and crossed the room to the bed. He laid you down gently, his movements careful and precise, not wanting to disturb your sleep. Once you were settled, he pulled the covers up to your chin, tucking you in with the same tenderness he had shown all evening.
For a long moment, he stood beside the bed, just watching you sleep. His eyes softened as he took in the sight of you, safe and sound under his watch. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a heartbeat longer than necessary.
“I love you,” he whispered, the words barely audible in the quiet of the room.
Suguru straightened up, brushing a hand through his long hair before glancing back at you one last time, soaking in your effortless beauty.
He smiled softly to himself as he quietly left the room, knowing you would wake up tomorrow feeling refreshed—whether you wanted to or not.
69 notes · View notes
ughgoaway · 2 days
Note
Ok so maybe the walls of neighbor matty and girlie’s building are kinda thin so when she fucks he can hear everythinggg and he’s laying there like Oh my god i’m a pervert but she’s so hot and he’s imagining what she must look like all sweaty and naked and moaning like that… and he just slooowly starts getting off, shirt CLENCHED between his teeth to keep himself quiet because if He can hear Her the reverse has to be true as well and then he cums all over himself wishing he was the one making her scream like that
and then maybe takes advantage of the fact she can definitely hear him getting off at a later date teehee 😇😇
Oh ABSOLUTELY, heather your mind>>>>>
(18+ below the cut, please!! also this might be shite i haven't written properly in 76 years. 1.4k ish!!)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫
You've just been on yet another date, and you know there's no future there at all. His going on for 45 minutes about his latest stock investments in crypto made that clear. But you also know there doesn't need to be a future for him to get you off. So you flash your doe eyes and invite him up to your place, letting the strap of your dress slip and a glimpse of black lace peek through. It doesn't take much before his hands are groping at your ass as the lift doors click closed.
And he's a fine kisser, and his skin on yours feels just the same as any other man. But when your hands slide into his hair, you can't help but subconsciously wish you were gripping unkempt curls, tugging at them and hearing that same moan you’ve heard through the thin walls of your bedroom late at night. You wish you could smell the woody aftershave that makes you roll your eyes every time it wafts your way, you want to hear just one voice whispering the things he's saying into your ear, and his gruff tone isn't scratching the itch you’re in denial about.
The sheets hit your bare back, and you watch with hooded eyes as your date scrambles to get his trousers down his legs, clearly eager to get inside you. And knowing how good you look right now, you're not surprised. His overheated lips touch the skin of your neck, and you decide then and there to put on the performance of your life. You don't want Matty, and your brain convincing you that you do is just because it's swimming in expensive wine and 2 shots of tequila. You want him, you want… John? No, James? Wait… did it begin with J? Oh well, you don't need to be coherent when you focus on his skin on yours. Breathy moans and whines will more than suffice.
Matty's eyes snap open the second he hears a low voice accompanying yours, the breathy faux giggle falling from your lips making him roll his eyes. As far as he's concerned, he's just annoyed about any noise, not that there's a man with you. Or that he's now in your bedroom, judging by the gradually louder speech. He fucking hates that his headboard and yours technically share a wall, bored of hearing all your shitty singing when you're getting ready in the morning. 
If he has to hear your rendition of Ain't it fun one more time, he's going to make an official noise complaint. Mainly because he loves it when you get pissed off and your eyebrows scrunch up as you yell at him. His heart tries to tell him it's because he finds you endearing, but his head refuses that fact.
He definitely doesn't feel like he loves anything when he hears the first wanton moan fall from your lips, and the louder they get, the more frustration builds inside him. What type of frustration is up for debate, but judging by the slowly growing tent in his trousers, it's not just pure annoyance. He really tries to stop focusing on your every noise, but it's hard when you sound like that. He swears he can hear every hitch in your breath, every shaky inhale and needy moan that comes from your ruby red lips.
He feels like a fucking creep and he's just about to reach for his headphones when you start getting louder, groaning and screaming like the girls he watches on Friday nights, one hand down his trousers and the other turning up the volume on his Macbook. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine what you’re doing. He can see you hovering above him, skin glowing red, flushed from your tits all the way up to the apples of your cheeks. His eyes flicker closed as he sees visions of your tits bouncing bove him, you pulling your hair to the side exposing your marked-up neck with a sly smirk covering your face. 
Goosebumps rise on his skin, and without realising it, his hand starts to slide down, groping himself over his thin boxers. A far too loud shaky gasp is ripped from his chest. He can't help but freeze immediately, nervous that somehow over the sounds of slapping skin and wanton grunts, you'd heard his weak gasp. But judging by the loud moan followed by “fuck- yes!” That he hears, you're obviously distracted by something else. Or somebody else.
Dilemma fills his mind. Or it does for a few seconds, but he can't stop himself from lying back down, pulling his boxers down his knees, dragging his shirt up over his skin and gripping it between his teeth, tugging at it to get a better view of his hand wrapping around his half hard dick. The first tug is heavenly, there’s just enough pull to make him hiss, but the shirt muffles any noises he makes, and the slight pain just feels so fucking good.
It doesn't take long before he's furiously pumping his fist to the sounds of you, ignoring the gruff grunts of the mystery man to instead focus on your high pitched moans followed by breathy praise that he knows is you. Matty's brain convinces himself each noise is for him, every gasp, whine, and whimper ripped from your chest is because you are thinking of him, wishing he was on top of you, dreaming of him inside you whispering filthy secrets into your ear as he bites at your neck.
His thumb brushes over his weeping tip, spreading beads of precum down his shaft, using it as lube to move faster, grip himself harder, to feel more. Each time his fist reaches the top of his erection, he can't help his hips jump into the contact, the same needy moan falling from his muffled lips. He swears he can taste blood, biting the shirt so hard he's sure he's catching his lip, the liquid iron taste overwhelming his senses in a way he can't bring himself to care about.
The air was thick and heavy around him, the smell of your perfume somehow filling his senses, his eyes flicking open to watch the red flush that covers his inked skin creep up his body, obscuring the small marks that litter him. Shaky eyes roll into the back of his head, fighting to stop his jaw-dropping and letting every grunt and groan escape. Part of him wants you to hear. He wants you to know he is getting off to you, to know that he wants you. Instead, he bites down harder, letting beads of sweat drip down his neck. Twitching hips and his racing heart make his head hazy, visions of you clouding his mind.
Cosmic timing makes you and Matty teeter at the edge of bliss at the same time, the same electricity pooling at both of your spines. Matty can tell you’re close even with a wall between the two of you. Your once coherent pleads quickly become rambling words and needy cries. He swears he can see you keening into his touch when he closes his eyes, speeding up his first to match the sounds of slapping skin he can hear next door, convincing himself that he’s the one fucking you.
Coiling tension pulsates inside you both, your breath hitching moments before the tension snaps, wave crashing over you and Matty. Your legs shake uncontrollably, your hips jumping as your date keeps fucking you, pushing deeper as he watches you in awe, studying the way your jaw drops and your whole body shivers.
Matty listens in shock, staring down as streams of white cum cover his thighs, painting the tattoo that sits so proudly on his hip. He keeps listening to every noise from you, wishing he could hear them without plaster between you, he wants to be the one making you cry from pleasure, watching your body shake as you come down, seeing the blissed-out smile on your face when you finally start to feel your legs again.
But eventually, the cum on his skin starts to feel cold and sticky, and the visions of you become clouded with all the times you've told him you hate him, all the times you called the building manager because he won't stop smoking weed, or even the time you called the police because he wouldn't stop blasting music. The illusion was shattered as he wipes his cum half-heartedly off his thighs and hand, rolling over to sleep, fighting to forget he ever hears a single noise from the apartment next door.
As for you hearing him… I will expand it another time teehee
(p.s any and all neighbour matty ideas are welcomed xoxo)
68 notes · View notes
Note
So i have this oc, she's technically dead, doesn't have a heart beat or need to breathe.
Remy's reaction to catching her asleep and not breathing?
Still as Death
Remy had always been drawn to your quiet, mysterious nature. You were different from the others at Xavier’s, and not just because of your mutation. There was something about the way you carried yourself—calm, steady, yet somehow distant. It intrigued him. He didn’t know the full extent of your powers, but he knew enough to understand that you were… unique.
Your mutation meant that you didn’t have a heartbeat. You didn’t need to breathe, eat, or sleep—at least not in the traditional sense. Technically, you were dead, though you moved and spoke as if you were alive like anyone else. It never seemed to bother you, and you rarely talked about it, but that didn’t stop Gambit from wondering what it must be like.
One evening, he was wandering through the halls of the mansion, a deck of cards in hand, shuffling them absentmindedly as he passed by your room. The door was slightly ajar, just enough for him to catch a glimpse inside. He paused, curiosity pulling him closer.
There you were, lying on the bed, eyes closed, your body completely still.
At first, he didn’t think much of it—until he noticed something off. You weren’t moving. Not in the way a person normally would while sleeping. There was no gentle rise and fall of your chest, no quiet sound of breath escaping your lips.
Remy’s heart skipped a beat, panic rushing through him. He quickly pushed the door open, his mind racing. Had something happened to you? Were you okay? He rushed to your side, dropping to his knees beside the bed, his hands hovering just above your still form.
"Mon dieu, chérie," he whispered, his voice shaky. "Y’ain’t…"
He gently placed a hand on your shoulder, shaking you slightly. "Wake up," he murmured, fear tightening in his chest.
When you didn’t respond immediately, Remy’s mind went to the worst possible place. You looked so peaceful, but that only made the sight more terrifying to him. His hand moved to your wrist, searching desperately for a pulse, forgetting for a moment that there wouldn’t be one.
But then, after what felt like an eternity, you stirred. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, and you blinked up at him, confused by the panic in his expression.
"Remy?" you murmured, your voice soft and groggy from sleep.
He let out a shaky breath, relief flooding his system as he sat back on his heels, running a hand through his hair. "Ma chère, you scared the life outta me!" he exclaimed, his accent thicker with the surge of emotion. "I thought somethin’ happened. You weren’t breathin’, weren’t movin’…"
You blinked at him, the confusion slowly fading as you realized what had happened. A soft, sheepish smile tugged at your lips.
"Remy… I don’t breathe, remember?"
He stared at you for a moment, the reality of your words sinking in. Of course. He knew that. He knew your mutation meant you didn’t have to breathe, but in that moment of panic, all logic had flown out the window. He’d been so scared, so convinced that something had happened to you.
"You were sleepin’, and you looked so still…" His voice trailed off as he tried to shake the fear that still lingered. "Guess I forgot for a minute."
You sat up slowly, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "I’m sorry, Remy. I didn’t mean to scare you."
He let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous chuckle. "Well, ya did a good job of it," he muttered, though there was no anger in his voice. Just relief.
Your thumb brushed over his arm, and you offered him a soft, understanding smile. "It’s okay. I’m okay."
Remy shook his head, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through him. "I don’t care what kinda powers y’got, chérie. I see you not breathin’, I’m gonna panic."
You smiled a little wider, touched by his concern. "Guess I’ll have to make sure you know I’m alright next time."
He met your gaze, his usual playful smirk returning, though it was tinged with sincerity. "Please do. This ol’ heart can’t take losin’ you like that."
You chuckled softly, the sound easing the last bit of tension between you. "I’ll try not to give you any more heart attacks."
Remy’s eyes softened as he reached up, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Y’know, it don’t matter if y’don’t need to breathe or don’t got a heartbeat. You’re more alive to me than anyone else in this place."
His words made your heart swell in your chest—an odd sensation for someone who technically didn’t have one. But Remy always had a way of making you feel like more than your mutation, more than just what you appeared to be.
You leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand against your cool skin. "Thanks, Remy."
He grinned, his crimson eyes twinkling with affection. "Anytime, ma chère. Just promise me y’won’t scare me like that again."
You nodded, still smiling as you rested your head against his shoulder. "I promise."
And as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer, you knew that no matter how different you were, Remy would always see you for who you really were. Alive, and completely irreplaceable.
99 notes · View notes
iamgonnagetyouback · 18 hours
Note
Poly marauders where it’s like there teen daughter gets into a fight and like smokes and stuff and like conversations and text trying to figure out what’s going on and telling each other what’s happening and like her yelling at them and finding out she’s been hanging around the wrong kind of people and she’s been stealing and just like good angst but then she says sorry walks away and slowly stops but like still ofc and teen girl 💕💕
𝟷.𝟹𝚔 || 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓
♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Your teen daughter was hanging out with wrong kind of people, causing all of you to confront her.
♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None
♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: poly!marauders x mom!Reader
Tumblr media
"She's stealing, James. STEALING." Sirius’s voice came through the phone, low and angry. You could hear it even though James had stepped into the kitchen to take the call. Your heart clenched, dread coiling tightly in your chest.
You glanced at Remus, who was sitting on the couch, his brow furrowed as he typed furiously into his phone, likely messaging Peter. It had been a few tense days now. First, your daughter had gotten into a fight at school. Then came the smoking. And now…you were learning about the stealing.
James walked back into the living room, running a hand through his hair. His usually calm demeanor was shattered, his hazel eyes full of worry. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Sirius’s voice on speakerphone, growling, “This is bloody ridiculous. Who’s she been hanging out with? How did we not know?”
You winced. “She’s not a bad kid,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. “We must’ve missed something, right? Maybe if I had—”
“Don’t,” Remus cut in gently, finally looking up from his phone. His eyes softened as he reached for your hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong, love.”
But the guilt gnawed at you anyway. You were her mother. You were supposed to protect her, guide her, and yet here you all were, blindsided by her sudden spiral.
The front door slammed, jolting you out of your thoughts. There she was, your daughter, stomping into the room with an air of defiance.
“Sweetheart, we need to talk,” James started, his voice steady but filled with concern.
“No, we don’t,” she snapped. “I’m not a child. You don’t get to control my life!”
Sirius, who had hung up and now stormed in after her, looked livid. “You’re stealing now?” His voice was tight with fury, and you saw James reach out, placing a firm hand on his shoulder to stop him from escalating. “We didn’t raise you to act like this. What the hell is going on?”
She rolled her eyes. “Maybe if you actually paid attention to what I want, instead of what you want me to be, I wouldn’t have to sneak around!”
Remus took a deep breath, stepping in. “Who have you been hanging out with, darling?”
Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, you saw the scared girl beneath the rebellious facade. “It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled. “I’ve got my own life, alright? You guys don’t get it.”
Peter, who had just arrived, slipped in quietly, standing by the door. He had always been the quiet one in confrontations like these, but his eyes were filled with worry. “We do get it,” he said softly. “We’ve been your age. But hanging out with people who are getting you into fights, into trouble…it’s not the way.”
Her lip trembled, and for a second, it seemed like she was going to break. But then she just shook her head and stormed toward her room, slamming the door behind her.
The silence that followed was suffocating. You sat down hard on the couch, burying your face in your hands. “I failed her,” you choked out, your voice thick with tears. “I should’ve known. I should’ve seen it.”
Sirius’s anger faltered, and he knelt down in front of you. “Hey, no. None of this is your fault.”
James crouched beside you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “You’re a great mom,” he whispered into your hair. “She’s just…lost right now.”
You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. “But what if we lose her, James? What if we're not enough?”
Remus was there in an instant, sitting beside you, pulling you close. “We won’t lose her,” he murmured. “We’ll figure it out together, okay? We’ve always got each other.”
Peter nodded from the side. “She’s tough, just like you. She’ll come around.”
Sirius, who had always been the most protective, clenched his fists, still simmering with frustration but trying his best to soften for your sake. “I just don’t want her getting hurt,” he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. “I don’t want her to turn into someone we don’t recognize.”
James kissed his temple, his voice gentle but firm. “She won’t. We’ll make sure of it.”
Tumblr media
Over the next few days, things were tense, but slowly, you began to see changes. She came home earlier, didn’t pick as many fights. It wasn’t a complete transformation—far from it—but there were glimmers of hope. She even sat down with you once, just to watch TV. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
One evening, she came up to you while the boys were scattered around the house. “Mom?” she asked, her voice quiet.
You looked up, your heart in your throat. “Yes, sweetie?”
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes were filled with genuine remorse. “I…I messed up. I’m still mad, but I know I messed up.”
You pulled her into your arms, tears welling in your eyes again, but this time from relief. “I love you,” you whispered, kissing the top of her head. “No matter what, I love you.”
She nodded, hugging you tightly before stepping back. “I’m gonna try…to do better.”
It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.
Tumblr media
hope this is what you were going for! also i wasn't sure if you wanted reader insert, so i twisted it up a bit
111 notes · View notes
swiftiethatlovesf1 · 3 days
Text
Back home p.5
Hey guyss, I hope you enjoy this part and if you've missed part 4 here it is.
Tumblr media
Charles steps closer, his brow furrowed with concern as he gently places a hand on your shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay?” His voice is soft, calming, but you can hear the underlying worry. Without thinking, you nod, though your heart is still racing from the encounter. The relief of having Charles step in hits you all at once, and before you know it, his arms are wrapping around you in a comforting hug.
You lean into him, grateful for his warmth and steady presence. He holds you just tight enough to make you feel safe, and you close your eyes, letting the moment calm your nerves.
As you stand there in Charles's embrace, you don’t notice Arthur approaching from across the room. But he sees you. The way Charles is holding you, the protective way his arms are wrapped around you—Arthur’s chest tightens with a mix of emotions.
That should be me, Arthur thinks, his jaw clenched as a wave of jealousy rushes through him. He’s always been the one looking out for you, keeping you close. And now, seeing his brother comforting you, it feels like something is slipping away, something he thought was only his.
He quickly crosses the room, pushing those thoughts aside as he approaches. "What happened?" Arthur's voice is tight, though he tries to mask the storm brewing inside him.
Charles lets go of you, and you take a deep breath, turning to Arthur. “Some guy wouldn’t leave me alone. Charles showed up just in time.”
Arthur’s eyes darken as he processes what you’re saying, a flash of protectiveness sparking in him. “What did he do?” he asks, his voice low and serious now. The tension is clear in his posture as he steps closer, his gaze flicking from you to where the guy had disappeared into the crowd.
You shake your head. “It’s fine. He just… wouldn’t take no for an answer. Charles handled it.”
Arthur’s expression softens as he looks at you, his concern overshadowing the jealousy he feels toward his brother. Gently, he reaches out, his hand brushing your arm as he steps even closer. “Are you okay?”
His touch is different from Charles’s—more familiar, warmer in a way that makes you feel safe, like you’ve been here a thousand times before. You smile softly, trying to ease his worry. “Yeah, I’m okay now.”
But inside, Arthur’s thoughts are far from calm. Charles is always swooping in, isn’t he? he thinks, though he hides it well. He wants to be the one you turn to, the one you feel safe with—not his brother. The jealousy gnaws at him, but seeing you shaken like this, his priority is making sure you’re alright.
“Let’s get out of here,” Arthur suggests, his tone gentle but firm, still not quite able to shake the possessiveness he feels. He looks over at Charles, who nods in agreement.
The three of you leave the party together, Arthur keeping you close by his side. He glances over at Charles, who walks on the other side of you, and for a brief moment, he catches his brother’s eye. There’s a silent understanding between them—both of them are here for you, but Arthur can’t help but feel that old rivalry flaring up again, just beneath the surface.
As you step outside into the cool night air, you feel a sense of relief wash over you. Arthur stays close, his hand on your back, while Charles walks quietly beside you. They’re both there, looking out for you, but in Arthur’s mind, there’s only one person he wants to be, the one you need..
As the three of you walk out into the cool night air, the tension from the party starts to fade. The silence feels comforting, but you can sense that Arthur and Charles are still watching over you closely. You feel their presence on either side, and it’s reassuring, but also a little overwhelming—like you’re caught between them in a way you can’t quite place.
Suddenly, Charles breaks the quiet. “How about we get some ice cream?” he suggests, his voice light and easy. “Might help brighten the mood after… all that.”
You smile at the idea, grateful for the distraction. “Ice cream sounds perfect.”
Arthur, though still a bit tense, nods in agreement. “Yeah, I’m in.”
A short while later, you’re sitting outside a small ice cream shop, the three of you at a quiet table. The atmosphere is much more relaxed now, and you find yourself laughing at something Charles said about the last time he tried to cook. It’s easy, comfortable—just like old times.
As you take a bite of your ice cream, Arthur glances at Charles, his voice teasing but with an edge of curiosity. “By the way, doesn’t your girlfriend miss you right now? It’s getting pretty late.”
Charles’s expression shifts slightly, a small shadow crossing his face. He lowers his spoon, and for a moment, he hesitates. “We broke up,” he says simply, his tone more serious than it’s been all night.
You stop mid-bite, eyes widening. “Oh, Charles… I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Without thinking, you reach out and place a hand on his arm, your touch gentle.
Charles gives you a small, appreciative smile. “Yeah, I’m okay. It wasn’t working for a while now. But thanks.”
You nod, giving him a sympathetic look. “Breakups are hard, but you’ll get through it. You always do.”
Arthur watches the exchange quietly, trying to push down the flicker of jealousy that rises in him when he sees you comforting his brother. He knows you’re just being kind, but it still stings to see how easily Charles seems to pull you into his orbit. I need to be the one she turns to, Arthur thinks, but he keeps it to himself, staying focused on you.
After a moment, Charles glances at you, his expression curious but lighthearted. “So, what about you? Anyone special in your life these days?” His tone is casual, but there’s an underlying tension in the question that you don’t notice.
You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Nope. Just me.” You take another spoonful of ice cream, completely unaware of how both Charles and Arthur are subtly watching your every move.
What you don’t realize is that the moment you answered, both brothers held their breath, waiting for what you’d say. They both feel a strange mixture of relief and anticipation at your response, even if neither of them lets it show.
“Well,” Charles says with a playful smile, trying to keep the mood light, “that just means they haven’t met someone as great as you yet.”
Arthur chuckles, but his smile is tight. He’s glad to hear you’re single, but he also knows this changes things. There’s no competition—except between him and his brother.
You smile back at both of them, oblivious to the tension that simmers just below the surface. To you, it’s just another night with two of your closest friends, not realizing how much more it means to them.
Tag list: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns, @janeh22, @victoriaholland, @abq654, @iamapersonwholikesunicorns, @anaferreira-4, @larastark3107, @itgirlofthecenturysposts, @boherahpsody, @iamkaku, @jz12
68 notes · View notes
iamtired10 · 5 hours
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
warped in your warmth
— ★ fluffy headcanons!
pairing - newjeans x female reader
synopsis - how each member reacts when you come home after a tough day and just silently hug them, seeking comfort.
genre - fluff, slight angst (but very soft)
warning - nothing to worry about ig
a/n - school has been wearing me out and im feeling more tired than usual these days. writing this brought me some comfort, so i hope it does the same for u! :)
Tumblr media
minji (kim minji)
minji always senses when something is wrong, even if you don’t say a word.
the second you approach her, and wrap your arms around her without a sound, she immediately knows that you’re carrying a heavy burden.
her arms instinctively envelop you, pulling you into her chest as if she could shield you from all the bad in the world.
but she feels the tension in your body, the way your fingers tighten around her shirt, and her heart sinks.
“baby.. what’s wrong..?” she whispers, her voice full of concern.
but when you don’t answer, minji doesn’t push.
instead, she pulls you down onto the couch, cradling you in her lap, resting her chin gently on your head.
the silence is deafening, but she knows that’s what you need right now. she strokes your back softly, a steady rhythm in sync with your breath, trying to calm the storm inside you.
it breaks her heart not knowing how to fix it, but she’s willing to stay like this as long as you need.
“i’m here,” she’d finally say, her voice cracking slightly. “you don’t have to say anything.. i’m just here..”
and that’s when you start to cry.
minji’s grip tightens, and for a moment, it’s hard to tell who’s comforting who, because her heart aches just as much seeing you like this.
she’d hold you until your tears stop, whispering reassurances between every sob, promising that no matter how hard the world gets, she’s not going anywhere.
hanni (pham hanni)
when you hug hanni out of nowhere, burying your face in her neck without a word, she feels a weight in her chest she can’t explain.
her usual bright, bubbly energy dims as she pulls you even closer, her arms wrapped tightly around you like she’s afraid you might slip away.
“hey.. hey, what’s going on..?” she’d whisper.
but when you don’t respond, she doesn’t ask again. instead, she sways with you gently, her cheek resting against your hair.
hanni can’t stand seeing you sad, but she knows sometimes all you need is for her to be there, holding you as the world falls apart around you.
still, it eats at her, the silence.
she hates not knowing how to help, feeling powerless to lift the weight off your shoulders.
after a while, she’ll try to break the tension with something light, “you know.. i’m pretty sure hugging me like this is illegal... because i’m already on the verge of stealing your heart, and now it’s a done deal.”
it’s a lame joke, but that’s hanni—trying to make you smile, even if it’s through tears.
when she feels you relax slightly, she breathes a sigh of relief, knowing she’s gotten through to you just a little.
she’ll keep hugging you, peppering soft kisses on your forehead until you’re ready to talk, or maybe just stay in her arms a little longer.
danielle (danielle marsh)
danielle’s heart practically shatters the moment you cling to her without a word.
she’s so in tune with your emotions that she almost feels your sadness as her own.
“oh.. y/n/n...” she murmurs, wrapping you in her arms so tightly that it’s like she’s trying to fuse your hearts together.
she doesn’t ask what’s wrong right away because she knows that sometimes the weight of the world is too much to put into words.
she’ll sit you down gently, her fingers playing with your hair as she whispers soothing words in your ear, “i’m here.. i’m right here, okay...?”
danielle would probably start humming a soft tune, trying to calm your racing thoughts, her voice warm and gentle.
but underneath that calm exterior, her heart is aching, wishing she could take your pain away.
“i hate seeing you like this.. it’s okay to cry, you know..” she’d say softly, and that’s when the tears would come.
her thumb would wipe away every tear, her gaze never leaving your face, eyes full of love and concern.
she listens when you’re finally ready to talk, holding your hand, squeezing it softly as if to say, i’m not letting go.
danielle will reassure you endlessly, “we’ll get through this, you and me..”
her words are like a soft lullaby, and in that moment, you realize she’s not just comforting you—she’s your safe place, the one who makes the pain feel a little less heavy.
haerin (kang haerin)
haerin’s quiet, observant nature is her greatest strength when it comes to moments like these.
the second you wrap your arms around her without explanation, she knows you need comfort.
she doesn’t say anything at first, just holds you tightly, her arms a protective shell around you.
her fingers gently run up and down your back, a silent gesture of reassurance, and she rests her head against yours, breathing you in.
there’s a deep sadness in her cat-eyes that you can’t see because haerin feels your pain as if it’s her own.
she stays silent, offering you her quiet strength instead of words.
but the way you’re holding on so tightly, like you’re afraid to let go, makes her chest tighten.
she wishes she could take the weight off your shoulders, but all she can do is stay with you, offering the warmth of her embrace.
after a while, she’d whisper, “i’m here.. i’m not going anywhere.”
haerin’s quiet presence is all you need, and even though she’s not asking questions, she’s listening in her own way.
she’d guide you to sit down, pulling you onto her lap if you’d let her, her hands still running through your hair.
she doesn’t push you to talk, but when you do, she listens with her whole heart, nodding quietly, her fingers never leaving your skin.
“we’ll get through this... together” she’d finally say, her voice soft but firm as if the world could fall apart.
but she’d still be there, holding you together.
hyein (lee hyein)
hyein is playful by nature, but when you silently hug her, she knows instantly that something’s wrong.
she’s a little taken aback at first, her arms stiff as she tries to figure out what to do.
but once she realizes you’re seeking comfort, she softens, pulling you closer.
“hey.. what’s going on?” she asks softly.
she’d hold you tightly, though it’s not as natural for her to stay still in moments like these.
but she tries, for you.
hyein might fumble a bit at first, unsure how to comfort you, but she’d quickly figure it out.
“you’re scaring me, you know..” she’d whisper, trying to coax a response out of you.
but when you stay silent, she presses her cheek against yours, her hands running up and down your arms in a soothing motion.
she hates seeing you like this, and it makes her anxious not knowing how to fix it.
so she does the only thing she knows how—she tries to lighten the mood.
“okay, so.. we’re just gonna sit here like this forever? i’m cool with that if you are,” she’d say, her voice teasing, though there’s a slight tremor in it.
eventually, she’d coax a small laugh out of you, and that’s when she feels like she’s done her job.
but she doesn’t let go—not yet.
instead, she keeps holding you, because she knows that right now, all you need is to be held.
Tumblr media
43 notes · View notes
mint-yooxgi · 2 days
Text
Gunsmoke & Leather Prologue
Tumblr media
Biker!AU - Part of the Gunsmoke & Leather Collab - With @kpop-stories-21 @anyamaris @pyeonghongrie @sanjoongie
@nebulousbrainsoup @stardragongalaxy and @yoonguurt
Genre: Mature, Angst, Fluff, Humour, Non-idol!AU
Pairing: Ateez X Reader - Prologue in Third Person, individual parts to follow
Words: 1,480
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Warnings: Allusion to kidnapping and supernatural occurrences. Mature themes.
A/n: *Insert laughing lizard gif here* As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~
Summary: Eight online friends meet in person for the first time and plan to have a wild weekend. However, things quickly go awry when they are kidnapped by a notorious biker gang. Hilarity, misadventures, and perhaps even feelings ensue.
Stars twinkle in the night sky above, the light of the full moon illuminating the pavement as an old microbus makes its was through the city. Peals of laughter can be heard from within, a chorus of eight voices shouting along to lyrics they all know by heart. Every so often, a streetlamp provides insight to wide smiles stretched across bright faces, most dancing in their seats or shaking their other friends lightly in excitement.
This trip was meticulously planned. Simply getting everyone’s schedules to line up was a pain, but as luck would have it, an opening seemed to appear for them all. Furious calls were made and messages sent to arrange the perfect getaway for these eight friends, excitement lingering in every voice to finally be able to spend some time with each other.
What better way to spend some quality time with friends than on a road trip?
Thus, a microbus was rented, bags were packed, and the meeting point was set. All that is left to do is make it to their hotel for the night, and pick right back up where they left off tomorrow.
“I still can’t believe you convinced that guy in the chicken costume to take a picture with us.” A large grin stretches across Elara’s features as all heads turn to look at Aurora.
“And it made for a good memory!” She beams, pulling out her phone to begin swiping through the photos. “Look how happy we all are!”
“The photos did come out really nice.” Larissa hums, reaching forward to grab Aurora’s phone.
“Look at our faces!” Nix cackles, swiping the phone and zooming in on the picture. “Caly and Aries are giving the chicken man the worst side eye imaginable.” 
“Any man who says ‘let’s cock-a-doodle-doo this’ deserves to get the side eyes of death.” Aries replies bluntly, leaning back in his seat to get more comfortable.
“Fair enough,” Rhea laughs, patting the taller male on his shoulder. “What’s your reasoning Caly?”
All heads turn to the woman in the driver’s seat who has been quiet this whole time. A slight frown mars her brows, eyes flicking between the dashboard and the road ahead.
“Caly?” Eris tilts her head in concern, noting how her friend’s lips purse in worry. “What’s wrong?”
A few glances are shared around the vehicle, each friend sitting forward in anticipation.
“Calypso?” Aurora leans forward in the passenger seat, making sure her face is in view of her friend’s peripheral.
“Sorry guys, the check engine light came on about five minutes ago and it hasn’t seemed to want to turn off.” Caly finally responds, noting a small parking lot about a block away. “I’m just going to pull in here and make sure it’s nothing serious-“
Almost as soon as those words escape her mouth, grey smoke begins to billow out from the engine.
“Oh shit, something is definitely wrong!” Nix’s eyes widen as they pull into the empty parking lot.
The moment the vehicle comes to a stop, it lets out a loud rumbling groan. A few clicks can be heard before the microbus shuts off, more smoke rising from the engine.
“Well, that’s not good.” Rhea blinks, unbuckling their seatbelt and opening the side door.
It takes about a minute for all eight passengers to exit the vehicle, a few of them circling the microbus. Phones come out, flashlights turned on to inspect the surrounding area.
“Good thing we got insurance.” Aries sighs, popping the hood.
Slowly, the smoke seems to be dissipating, all eight friends crowding around the front of the vehicle.
“We were almost out of the city, too.” Elara sighs, looking briefly off in the distance.
“We still had an hour to go before we reached the hotel, though.” Eris comments, checking the map on her phone.
“We shouldn’t drive it any further tonight.” Caly sighs, pulling up a contact on her phone. “I’ll call a tow.”
Fifteen minutes later, and some mumbled complaints from friends, a tow is called.
“They said they should be here in about an hour, so we’ve got some time to kill.” Caly says, tucking her phone into her back pocket.
“What are we supposed to do for an hour?” Larissa frowns, letting out a soft exhale. Her foot begins to tap rhythmically on the ground.
“Maybe there’s something around here still open that we can check out?” Aurora suggests.
“What would still be open at this hour?” Crossing her arms over her chest, Nix huffs.
“Well, it looks like there’s a bar across the street…” Rhea points out.
All heads turn to see a faint neon sign, a few windows with a dull light illuminating the inside. The place seems pretty busy, too.
“Thank goodness,” Larissa already begins hustling across the street. “I have to pee.”
The others follow closely behind, a few chuckling affectionately at their friend.
“I could use a drink.” Nix hums, Aurora happily agreeing.
“Maybe we can order some food while we wait?” Elara suggests, the others nodding along with her words.
Aries holds the door open for all of them, and as they all step inside, it’s as if a small electric shock travels through their bodies. Sounds seems to muffle for the moment as the atmosphere surrounds them. Spines straighten and brows furrow, a few shuffling from foot to foot once they notice just how crowded the bar is.
“Did anyone else feel that?” Eris’ hushed whisper gets ignored as the hustle and bustle of the bar assaults their ears suddenly in full force.
Larissa is the first to seemingly snap out of her daze, blinking a few times before marching through the crowd and towards the sign labelled ‘bathroom’. Little does she notice the eyes that follow her every move.
Shortly after, Aurora, Nix, and Elara all begin to weave through the crowd and towards the bar. Soft chatter is heard all around, yet the three girls all manage to hear each other for the moment, discussing what drinks they should get.
“I wonder what food they have here…” Elara mumbles, sidling up to the bar.
Unbeknownst to them, three sets of eyes track their every movement, a male drifting towards each individual almost subconsciously.
“Maybe we should grab a table?” Rhea suggests lightly.
Nods are shared by the remaining friends, searching through the crowd for an open space to fit all eight.
“There.” Aries flicks his head to a table in the corner by the front windows.
Wordlessly, all four of them walk over, sliding into the rounded booth to wait for their friend’s return.
Every few minutes, Calypso keeps checking her phone. A worried frown tugs at her features, and she keeps glancing out the window towards that parking lot across the street.
“I’m gonna go wait by the car,” she says, sliding out of the booth a moment later. “You know, just in case the tow comes early, or something. I don’t want to miss their call. Plus, it’s a little too loud in here.”
“I’ll come with you!” Rhea hops out of the booth. “Maybe there’s another place open we can check out.”
“Sounds good.” Aries hums, casually resting his one arm across the back of the booth while Eris scopes out the place.
With a final wave, Caly and Rhea part from their friends, heading back out the door they had just walked in only minutes before.
Two males behind the counter share a look.
A few minutes pass by, Eris continuously glancing over towards the bar to keep an eye on her friends. Though, with the amount of people weaving between tables and lingering about, it’s getting harder and harder to spot her friends. In fact, she’s already lost visual on Elara and Aurora. Luckily, Nix seems to still be in plain sight.
“Issie is sure taking a long time in the bathroom.” Eris comments, worrying her bottom lip. “I can’t see Lara or Rora, either.”
“I’m sure they’re fine.” Aries hums, glancing out the window to see Caly across the street leaning against the car, and Rhea heading down the street. He turns his attention back to the bar, having felt eyes on him. “I can see them right now.”
“Alright,” Eris replies, a vary tone to her voice. “But I’m going to go check on Issie.”
All Eris receives from the taller male is a nod in response. Carefully, she slips out of the booth, heading in the same direction Larissa did only minutes before.
A pair of eyes follow her through the crowd, yet she is none the wiser. A pair of eyes which glance around the room, flashing briefly as they lock with several other sets that all seem to share the same thought.
Eight subtle nods are given, and eight friends are soon separated, never to see each other that night again.
50 notes · View notes
koji-haru · 10 hours
Text
Time Travel AU Part: 14
Michael had been spending a lot more time in the garden. His visits had become a daily occurrence where he would spend hours with the first man before returning to Heaven at the end of the day. Adam didn’t really mind having the angel around. While he didn’t enjoy having to hide who he truly was whenever the angel was there, having someone to talk to and could reply back was something he welcomed. After having spent more time and actually getting to know the angel, Michael was not what Adam had expected. He was sure the guy was just doing his job of looking after the garden, but the daily visits, the small gifts here and there, and just coming by to ‘spend time’ with him… In Adam’s previous life, he never really talked to the angel. Not because they hated each other, it was more like Adam thought they just would never get along so he never bothered to know the guy. Adam was loud, Michael kept to himself; Adam liked to push Heaven’s boundaries, Michael was a stickler for the rules; Adam liked his parties, Michael was barely seen outside of work. In short, they seemed to be polar opposites. And yet, here they were playing board games as if they were best buddies. 
“But then maybe it’s because of the act I put on,” Adam mused as he waited for Michael to finish his turn. His eyes trailed the angel’s hand as Michael moved a piece across the checkered board and took out his bishop. Another piece he lost. The game wasn’t looking too good for Adam.
“I was wondering,” Adam started, cheek resting on his palm. “Doesn’t Heaven require a lot of your time?”
Michael looked up from the board, his focus broken by Adam’s sudden question. “Oh. Well, I’m quite efficient so I have some spare time,” he replied as he placed the fallen bishop piece on the grass on his side of the board. 
Adam simply hummed in response. Heaven was pretty demanding, but since this was at the start of time, he supposed the workload hadn’t arrived and piled up yet. He shifted his attention back to the game in front of him. The number of pieces he had were dwindling. Only a few pawns remained, two knights, a tower, his queen and, of course, the king. He pondered about putting a few pieces at risk, maybe even sacrificing some of them, just so he could get rid of Michael’s queen piece. Risky, but it could turn the tide. After giving it some more thought, Adam decided his next move. His hand reluctantly placed a knight in line of sight of Michael’s tower piece. 
Hands hovered above the board, pieces moved across closer to victory or sacrificed and taken out, and then after a while, a checkmate to end the game. Adam eyed the board in front of him, he just lost the game. With a defeated sigh, he plopped down onto the soft grass on his back, his head dull and heavy from having to think of his moves and counter moves against Michael. 
“Adam?,” Michael asked, a hint of concern in his voice. “Are you alright?”
“No,” replied Adam. “You’ve vanquished me and destroyed my kingdom. How can I be alright?” He dramatically waved his hand in the air before letting them back down onto the grass with a soft flump. He turned to his side and met Amora’s board gaze staring back at him. “You’ll avenge me, won't you girl?”
The jaguar simply snorted in response as she turned her head away from the first man. 
“Well, you’ve only been getting, so I also had to improve myself to keep up,” Michael chuckled with fondness at Adam’s dramatics. With a snap of his fingers, the wooden board and its pieces vanished in a poof of silver smoke. “By the way,” Michael continued as he inched a little nervously closer to the human, who was still lying flat on the grass. “I remembered you said you’d like the instrument you made, the guitar I think it was, to somehow be made of metals.” He placed a hand on his nape and looked a little sheepishly in a random direction. “I still have some time to spare, so if you want, I can help you with that…”
As if a freezing bucket of water was splashed on him, Adam immediately sat up, his golden eyes sparkling brighter than any star in the sky, an excited childish smile on his lips as he grasped Michael’s hand in astonishment. “Really?!”
The angel’s face became tinted with yellow as warmth rushed to his cheeks at the humans' sudden close proximity. He looked down at his hand encaged between Adam’s soft warm hands, stupefied by the sensations he was feeling. “Uh, uhm, yes?” He cleared his throat, “I mean, yes. If you’d like to.”
Without a second thought, Adam kept a hand held onto Michael’s hand as he dragged the angel towards a specific direction.
The two arrived in a large cave in a corner of the garden. The dark cave glistened and sparkled with various colours as the little light that entered the cave reflected off of the numerous gems and metals that coated the cave’s walls, like distant stars on an expanding night sky. 
“You know, I could have just made the materials you wanted,” Michael commented as he watched Adam examine some colourful rocks with intense scrutiny. 
“Nono, I’d like it to be made from Eden,” Adam answered, his focus still on the ores as he carefully looked for gold. 
Not really understanding what the human was looking for, Michael moved beside Adam trying to follow what his eyes were looking for. “Okay, so what should I look for?”
Adam held up a small rock in front of Michael. It was jagged simple grey rock if not for the spots of gold scattered all across the rock. “Something like this, except we’re going to need way waaay more. My guitar is going to be perfect!,” Adam excitedly replied, his own eyes sparkling brighter than any of the precious stones and metals in the massive cave. 
Michael took the small ore from Adam’s hand, turning it over in his hand as he carefully examined it. The angel thought it was oddly specific; of all the materials Adam could’ve chosen, like it was something he had been wanting for a while now. He looked up again to see Adam already looking for more of that gold speckled rock, his excitement radiating off of him as it bounced off the walls of the cave, infecting even Michael myself. A satisfied feeling warmed his entire being, knowing he was the reason for the first man’s current happiness. Of all the precious materials he could choose from this cave, he would choose this without a second thought. 
The two spent time looking for gold and silver ores. Occasionally, Adam would take out some ores from the container that Michael had picked, or stop the angel from picking it in the first place. “Nono, that’s pyrite not gold,” Adam corrected. He would put a gold ore beside a chalcopyrite ore and try to highlight the difference between the two, while Michael would try to spot the differences but clearly have some difficulty with it. 
“I don’t know how you can tell immediately,” Michael remarked, still holding the two different ores.
“I just can,” Adam shrugged as he put another ore into the container. “There. That should be enough.” He wiped some sweat off his forehead. The hard part was done. Now, it was time for some magic. 
“We won’t use the entire rock?,” inquired Michael.
“No, I just need your help to extract and shape these,” Adam pointed into the coloured specks on the grey rocks. 
With a simple wave of the angel’s hand, the precious metals embedded on the rocks flowed out like liquid through the air as he meticulously shaped them according to his human companion’s wishes. A body consisting mainly of gold, lined with silver at the bottom; a silver neck, and a golden headstock shaped like a lyre. It was a beautiful design, unlike anything Michael had seen before. A heavenly item made from the garden of Eden. 
As soon as it was finished, the golden guitar floated down into the hands of its new owner. Adam gasped in awe when he felt the cool metal hit his skin. Its smooth shiny surface, the intricate carvings, the sound it emitted when he strummed the strings. It was exactly just like his old guitar when he was an angel. It even had that faint heavenly glow! His hands shook from the sheer joy and excitement of having his guitar back.
“Do you want to try play some music with it?,” Michael suggested, his smile warm from the bubbling happiness from inside him. 
Adam shifted the guitar in his arms until it felt right and comfortable, just like back then. His fingers brushed over the strings, strumming it lightly, before he played an alluring melody that echoed faintly within the cave, giving it an otherworldly tone. 
“This song’s for you Michael. As thanks for helping me make this guitar.”
—-
Adam dragged his feet back towards his favourite tree where Amora laid waiting. The sun had set a few minutes ago, the sky had turned from a pinkish orange to purple-blue with the stars blinking one by one as they awoke from their day-long slumber. The day had been long, but eventful and fulfilling. He placed the golden guitar carefully on the ground before allowing himself to slump down beside Amora, her spotted fur always a soft thing to hug against. 
He let out a deep satisfied sigh as he released Amora from his hug and turned to lay on his back. More stars had started to show on the darkening night sky, the moon slowly inching its way to the highest point of the night. 
“You know, I didn’t think Michael would be that nice,” he told the jaguar. “Waaay nicer and better than that snake Lucifer. Definitely the cooler brother.” He sat up and held the new guitar up to show Amora. “Look! He even made me this guitar! Isn’t it cool?”
Amora simply gave the guitar a bored stare before lying her head back down on the soft grass. 
“You’re so mean sometimes you know,” huffed Adam as he let exhaustion drag him back down towards the grass. 
The sky tonight was absent of any clouds, never-ending a dark blue canvas that expanded beyond the eye could see, speckled with white shining glitter all over it, and a bright round moon that commanded silent attention from all. The night’s cool breeze glided over his skin, taking away the excess warmth from his day activities, the stillness of the dark, a lullaby that encouraged his eyes to close and for his body to rest. 
Adam let out a yawn, sleep was calling to him. “Honestly, I’m glad to have someone like Michael as a friend.”
A loud, almost mocking, snort stopped the first man from falling into sleep. He turned his head to face the disapproving look of the jaguar. “There you go again. What’s with that look?,” asked Adam, completely bewildered by Amora’s recent behaviour. “You used to be much sweeter…”
And because she’s an animal, Amora couldn’t talk the way Adam did. So, she communicated what she meant by moving closer to the human and draping her large paw over him almost like a suffocating embrace. 
“Wha– Hey!,” cried out Adam, his voice slightly muffled by the fluff that was suddenly on him. 
Despite his struggles, Amora easily kept Adam still beneath her paw and began to lick his head, like a mother grooming her precious child who still knew nothing about the things around him.
Part 13
Part 15
31 notes · View notes
crisis-starter · 2 days
Text
Hello
I did not expect to write Odile’s moment in less than half a day.
Stars, its twice as long as Mirabelle’s and that took me 2 or 3 days to do.
Well, anyways, I hope you enjoy!
)•{+}•<>+<>•{+}•(
Odile was by the staircase in the final room, waiting to talk with Siffrin. The entire trek through the house was filled to the brim with suspicious activity. Facial expressions, behaviors… it was all strange. And with the knowledge of Wish Craft and Time Craft… she had an idea of what was happening. Bonnie was seemingly thinking about something. She had never seen the child be so quiet before. And Isabeau was looking right at her. Siffrin was chatting with Mirabelle, so she awaited them. Soon they will have to talk to her, she could feel it.
Then she felt the slight twinge of Craft. Isabeau wasn’t looking at her anymore, instead performing an odd kind of craft, if his hand was any indication. And then she heard his voice in her head:
‘M’dame Odile. Please. Whatever you are planning to do right now? At least be gentle.’
Odile copied the hand signal she saw Isabeau making before replying, “He’s trapped himself, and subsequently the entirety of Vaugarde in time! Perhaps even worse than the King! And you don’t want me to say my piece?”
‘I am not saying that you shouldn’t say something. I’m saying that, if you are, please don’t push him. He is already that close to the edge.’
Odile was silent. Skeptical. She had an idea of Isabeau’s stance, but this really couldn’t go unsaid. Siffrin was hiding something that clearly felt like common knowledge to everyone except her. And Isabeau had this… worry in his voice. Like he knew something she didn’t.
‘M’dame. I… I can’t tell you right now. Because we’re on a time limit. But I will tell you what I remember seeing once we get back. Here’s to hoping you remember what happens next.’
Isabeau cut the connection there. Odile looked at Siffrin, and realized why. The rogue had finished talking with Mirabelle. She put her hand down and returned to reading through the notes of her investigation. Siffrin approached her, a seemingly disinterested expression on his face. The two glanced at each other before Odile started talking, “Ah. Woop woop, we did it, we won, etc.”
She wanted to start soft, somewhat. So why not comment on how she feels after the fight with the King? She continued, “Urgh. Whatever. This was… quite a workout. My entire body is screaming.” Odile rolled her shoulders a little. She did feel somewhat sore, “Savior of Vaugarde, huh? That’s something to add to my list of accomplishments.”
Maybe mulling over any future plans may help a smoother transition? She didn’t know. She never said she was… good at this, “But now, I can finally go back to traveling. I’d be curious to visit more Vaugardian cities and hear what they have to say about an event like this. It’ll be weird to travel alone now, but I’ll get used to it again. Or I could just go home to Ka Bue… Hm…” Maybe she could convince the others to travel with her? Not right now, that would be too… embarrassing. Everyone here has their own life. She didn’t want them to put it aside so easily over a grown woman not wanting to leave without a proper goodbye and happy, stress-free memories to take with her.
Siffrin hid in their collar as they spoke, “To do your fake research?” There it was. Another suspicious detail. How they knew her research was fake was a bit of a mystery but she needed to say something, “…Yes. My fake research…” She probably looked a bit… frustrated there. She quickly fixed her expression, “Don’t tell anyone. I’d like to see Isabeau try to figure it out for a little longer. Very excited to hear what he comes up with next. Spoonology? Bananalogy?” Siffrin’s expression changed to that of an odd smile. A fabricated one. Concern began to blossom in her heart.
Maybe Isabeau was right.
Siffrin joked, “Bananalogy would be quite aPEELing.” Odile didn’t find it funny. But… at least fake something, “Hah… Yes.” Her face softened, “Ha… I’ll miss you, Siffrin. You’re a little strange, but you’re a good kid. Maybe try letting down your walls every once in a while, huh?” The researcher felt a smile sneak onto her face, “And come to Ka Bue anytime. Maybe we’ll meet again during your travels.” Odile really hoped so. Siffrin forced himself to smile. Wait.
Odile looked at Siffrin, concern fueling her entire being, “…Siffrin, is everything-“ Siffrin’s expression flashed into something akin to confusion for a second. Odile looked around. Bonnie, Mirabelle, and Isabeau were looking at her, worried. Great. She had spectators now. But… was she the main act? She sighed, hoping to brush off the added tension. She hoped that this would go smoothly. Odile asked, softly, “But really, is everything okay?” Siffrin is back to that fabricated smile, “What do you mean?”
Oh… Oh this is how things will have to go, huh. She continued, “I don’t know, Siffrin. You’ve felt off since yesterday. More withdrawn, mostly. Tell me what’s wrong.” Siffrin continued avoiding the question, “Nothing’s wrong!” This defiance… it was messing with Odile’s patience. But she was trying, “…it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, you know. I’ll find out eventually.” She probably already did. Maybe everyone did, and she doesn’t remember. Siffrin replied, hiding in their collar again, “But I’m not hiding anything.” And that was the final straw. All attention was on them both. She was starting to get a headache. Time to lay it all out, no matter how harsh it felt.
Odile looked at Siffrin, abandoning any kind of calm or leniency, “Is that so.” She made her frustration known, “Is that so? So Time Craft has nothing to do with you?” Siffrin dropped the facade and grew shocked, “No that’s-“ Odile will not let him deny it. She continued, noticing Isabeau trying to approach. No. She needed to say her piece, “And the fact that you knew how to read that book about Wish Craft… Knew how to wish correctly, when no one else did… It doesn’t mean anything, either?”
Siffrin gave that fake smile, only more shaky, “It’s not like that, I-“ She was cornering them. No more excuses, just continue, “And the way you’re acting, doing that stupid smile like nothing’s wrong… It doesn’t mean anything, either?!?” The smile was dropped. Siffrin was looking at Odile, shaken. Silent. There’s more evidence.
She looked away slightly, still stern, “I’m not stupid, Siffrin. If I find something strange, I can do nothing except give it my full attention.” She turned her attention back to Siffrin, “And you are acting strange.” Siffrin looked stressed. Staring at her with this need to run away, but being unable to. Her headache was getting worse. She’ll deal with it later.
It was at this point she made her anger known, “There were so many signs… I did not understand them, but now I do! You’ve been acting strange since you woke up from your nap, yesterday!” She started to ramble on about more evidence that came to mind, “When we talk to you, you act out of it, almost bored… And the way you reacted to the rocks falling… We all jumped, but you just looked at them fall, calmly.” Odile rose her voice again, “And there’s so many other things, the way you reacted to so many things throughout our entire journey through the House!” The researcher faltered a little, “And, and… How every time you found the keys we needed to proceed, you didn’t seem surprised, like you knew exactly where they were. Even that key in the classroom. Almost like…” Odile looked at Siffrin for answers, “…Like you had found them before, maybe?”
Siffrin started to grow panicked, “B-but that’d be impossible, though!” Isabeau was looking at the two of them, nervous yet willing to step in. Siffrin attempted to reason. To save themselves, “How could I have known where the keys were when it’s my first time here?!?” Odile, frustrated, asked, “I don’t know, Siffrin, why don’t you enlighten me?!” Siffrin’s breathing was escalating. Odile continued, “Don’t think I believed that whole ‘I wished croissants would disappear~’ thing, too. So, if you lied about your wish… What did you wish for, then? That’s it, isn’t it?” The researcher looked at her hands, “Did something happen? To you, to us? Did we die against the King, maybe?” Odile looked up, spotting Siffrin pulling at his hair. Oh no. She only had one thing left to say, then she could try to start calming Siffrin down. It’ll be okay. She finished by asking, “Is that why you’re repeating the same events, Siffrin?” She was about to maybe ask Siffrin to calm down and relax before it happened.
Siffrin snapped back, “SHUT UP!!!”
Everyone was startled by the outburst. Odile herself was shaken. Isabeau was right. She couldn’t be a bit softer, huh? And now, Siffrin was on the edge of a breakdown. The traveler continued, breath ragged and irregular, “Even if you figure it out, Odile… It’s too late! It’s too late! It’s always too late!!!” Siffrin looked right into Odile’s eyes as they spoke, a combination of panic and rage in his eyes, “Did you have to figure it all out now, when it’s all about to end? You can’t help me, Odile!!! No one can!!!”
Isabeau was stunned, muttering a quiet, “Sif, Odile…?” Bonnie was hidden behind Mirabelle, asking, “What’s happening? Why are you yelling?” …When did they get so close? Odile’s headache was getting worse. The air started to feel strange. Her heart was pounding in her ears.
Siffrin continued, erratic, “It’s too late!!! YOU CAN’T HELP ME!!!” Odile tried to get a word in, but couldn’t. So she continued to listen to Siffrin’s pleas, “And I think, weirdly, I don’t even want you to help me?” Siffrin gave a panicked smile, “Why don’t I want you to help me?”
Odile felt her hands shaking. What… was this her fault? Was she the final straw? All she could really do was try to ask them to calm down, “Siffrin-“ But she couldn’t even do that without being cut off, “Maybe because I know that if you help me, you’ll start hating me!!!”
What?
“Because I don’t know why this is all happening, but-“
Wait.
“It must be because of me, that we’re repeating the same events!!!”
Siffrin stop. Please, you’ll hurt-
“And if you knew that, you’d hate me-“
Mirabelle cried out, “Siffrin?!” Maybe to snap him out of it. The air tasted like sugar. A taste so strong, it was horrible. A terrible omen. Siffrin continued, “And I don’t want you to hate me. So, so, so-“
And everything stopped before everyone was sent back to their places. Odile was silent. She decided… to say something, “Siffrin, please. You don’t… have to talk to me. But I will find out somehow. What’s causing you… harm.” She already knew. But maybe it was more comforting to claim ignorance. Siffrin quickly fabricated a smile before cheerfully saying, “Maybe, teehee!”
That… that felt unsettling.
Bonnie, Mirabelle, and Isabeau looked at Odile, worried. Odile herself? She wanted to sit down. She felt faint. That was so much information to take in at once.
Just how… how deep has Siffrin buried himself?
Siffrin faced her, the same chilling smile on their face. Odile stated, “Alright, well, if that was all…” Siffrin took this as his cue to leave as Isabeau straightened his act up.
Once Siffrin was gone, Odile sat down on the stairs. Her headache was gone, but she felt guilty. She just sat there silently, internalizing information.
It seemed that her spacing out helped pass by sooner, because she soon found Isabeau by her side, trying to check if she was doing okay. She could barely hear him.
Her eyes were on Siffrin. They hesitated a little before trying to talk to the Head Housemaiden. Then they approached her. They happily told Euphrasie about something. She responded happily.
Then the pressure in the air grew. Something was wrong. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out. The Head Housemaiden was dismayed. Siffrin pleaded with her.
She crouched down to Siffrin’s level, cupping the rogue’s cheeks with her hands. She made sure she was close to Siffrin as tears streamed down her face. Siffrin was stunned. He couldn’t move. The world grew darker. Something was happening. Something was oh so horribly wrong.
A lightless shade almost appeared to engulf everything. For a split second, Odile saw something. Hundreds of silhouettes. They all looked just like Siffrin. All looking at Euphrasie. And then…
She awoke and stumbled back, nearly crashing into the shelf behind her. Her heart was pounding. So she attempted to calm down. Then she heard someone enter the shop.
Isabeau was trying to catch his breath at the entrance. He looked at Odile, worried, “Are you alright, M’dame?” Odile just looked at him, shocked. Her hands were shaking again. Isabeau sighed, “So… you remember, hm?”
)•{+}•<>+<>•{+}•(
This was VERY fun to write.
So… those are the 4 “loop awakenings”.
I’ll compile them all in chronological order and post it to AO3 (which was the original plan but I felt like you folks would like it).
I hope you have a good day/night! Until next time!
27 notes · View notes
acute-scary · 3 days
Text
Between the Ropes.. a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley Fanfic.
Tumblr media
Chapter 15: Now Wait A Damn Hour..
Rhea sat cross-legged on the couch, surrounded by the warmth of furry bodies—her pets snuggled close, and Jon and Trinity’s dogs sprawled out on the floor around her. The comforting sound of Snapped droned in the background, but Rhea was more invested in the chips she was munching on, crinkling the bag as she reached for another handful.
Her eyes were fixed on the screen when a scene unfolded. "That's where he fucked up!" she exclaimed, pointing at the TV. "Do you see that shit, guys? Left the damn murder weapon!" The dogs’ ears perked up at her voice, some looking her way as if they understood her frustration. “Amateurs," she muttered, shaking her head as she tossed a chip toward one of the dogs, who happily caught it.
Jey had been gone for what felt like hours, and her stomach growled, reminding her that she was waiting on only two things: Hawaiian pizza and brownies. How hard could it be to find that in Florida? she thought to herself, glancing at the time on her phone. She was just about ready to order DoorDash if he didn’t show up soon. Her hunger was gnawing at her now, and the thought of warm pizza was starting to make her impatient.
Suddenly, her phone rang, jolting her out of her thoughts. She jumped, her heart skipping a beat as she fumbled for it on the couch. Rhea had forgotten she’d changed her ringtone and the unfamiliar sound made her chest tighten with unease. She grabbed the phone and answered without checking the number, a knot forming in her stomach.
“Hello. You have a collect call from the Orange County Jail from Inmate Number 2498148 … 'Matthew Adams,' do you wish to accept the charges?”
Her breath caught in her throat. The sound of Matt’s name made her blood run cold. She stared at the phone for a split second, heart pounding, before she abruptly hung up. A shiver ran down her spine, and her hands shook as she blocked the number.
She quickly called Jey, her fingers trembling as she dialed. The phone rang, and Rhea anxiously waited for him to pick up, her thoughts spiraling.
The phone rang once, twice, and by the third ring, Rhea was tapping her foot anxiously against the floor, biting her lip. Finally, Jey’s voice came through, a bit muffled but familiar.
“Yo, what’s up?”
“Where are you?” Rhea blurted out, her voice sharp with a mix of fear and frustration.
There was a pause on the other end. “I’m about ten minutes out, got caught in traffic. I’ve got the pizza and brownies. What’s wrong? You sound off babe.”
Rhea swallowed hard, trying to calm herself, but the chill from Matt’s call still clung to her. “Matt,” she whispered, barely able to say his name aloud. “He just called. From jail.”
The line went silent for a moment before Jey spoke again, his voice low and serious. “Did you answer it?”
“I—I didn’t mean to. I didn’t recognize the number, and then I heard his name, and I just hung up. I blocked it, but—God, Jey, I didn’t think I’d ever hear from him again.”
Jey cursed under his breath. “That bastard. I swear, if I ever—” He cut himself off, trying to rein in his anger. “He’s just trying to mess with you, babe. He knows he’s lost. Don’t let him get in your head.”
Rhea closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “I’m trying, but after everything… the baby, the hospital, the detectives—" She paused, her voice trembling. "I thought it was over. Why is he still doing this? Why can’t he just leave me alone?”
Jey’s voice softened, filled with concern. “I’m almost there, okay? Just hang tight. We’ll figure this out together, like we always do.”
Rhea nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. She needed him here, more than ever. “Okay. Just… hurry.”
They ended the call, and Rhea sat there for a moment, staring at her phone, her heart still racing. She glanced down at the dogs, who had sensed her distress and were now crowding closer, their eyes filled with concern. She reached out to pet them, her fingers sinking into their soft fur as a way to ground herself. The warmth from them was comforting, but it didn’t chase away the chill that Matt’s call had left behind.
Jey had always been her anchor in the chaos, and she needed that now more than ever. The weight of everything — the affair, the pregnancy, the loss — was becoming heavier each day, and now, with Matt trying to claw his way back into her life, it felt like she was being suffocated all over again.
Rhea took a deep breath, pushing the fear aside. She had faced worse. She was strong. But deep down, she couldn’t deny the fact that Matt’s shadow still lingered over her life, and now, he had made his presence known once again. She clenched her fists. Not again. Not this time.
Minutes felt like hours as she waited for Jey. When the door finally swung open, the smell of pizza hit her before Jey even said a word. He stepped into the room with Jon trailing behind, carrying the pizza and brownies, but the look on his face showed he was more concerned about her than anything else.
“I’m here,” he said softly, setting the food down on the coffee table before walking over to her. Without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms, and she melted into him, feeling the weight of her fear and anxiety momentarily lift as his warmth enveloped her.
“He’s not gonna touch you, ever again,” Jey whispered against her hair. “Not while I’m here.”
Rhea clung to him, her eyes shut tight as she let his words sink in. For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to feel safe. But in the back of her mind, she knew this wasn’t the end. Not yet.
As Rhea pulled away from Jey’s arms, Jon stood nearby, watching them with concern. After a moment, he broke the silence.
“Rhea, you need to change your number,” Jon said, his voice gentle but firm. “Blocking him won’t stop him forever. This is the only way to make sure he can’t reach you again.���
Jey nodded, stepping in to back him up. “Yeah, I’ll add you to my plan, make it easy. We can do it today. No more of this Matt crap getting in your head.”
Rhea broke free from the hug and shook her head. “I don’t want to run. I’m not hiding from him,” she said, frustration creeping into her voice. “I’m not going to let him make me live in fear.”
Jon stepped closer, his face soft with understanding but still firm. “This isn’t running, Rhea. It’s protecting yourself. You’re not giving him power—you’re just putting up walls so he can’t reach you. That’s not weakness. It’s strength.”
Rhea looked away for a moment, chewing on her lip as she thought about it. Jon had a point, but it still felt like she was giving in, in some small way. After a beat, she sighed, nodding. “Okay… you’re right. I’ll do it.”
Jon gave a slight smile of approval, and Jey’s serious expression lightened. “Good. Now let’s focus on something better, like food.” He moved to the coffee table, flipping open the pizza box.
Rhea’s eyes narrowed as she glanced at the box. “Hold on… is that Pizza Hut?” she asked, raising a brow.
Jey grinned, pulling out a slice of the Hawaiian pizza she’d requested. “Yeah, it was the fastest option. What, not fancy enough for you?”
Rhea took the slice, biting into it with a smirk. “No, no, it’s perfect. I just thought it’d be my last meal before I end up on Snapped. You know, murder charges and all that.” Her tone was dark, but the joke was clear.
Jey burst out laughing, while Jon chuckled and shook his head. “You’ve got a twisted sense of humor, you know that?” Jey said, still laughing.
“Hey,” Rhea said, waving the pizza slice. “If I ever get caught, it won’t be because I left the damn murder weapon out like those idiots.” She shot a look at the TV, where Snapped was still playing in the background.
Jey grinned, sitting down beside her with his own slice. “Nah, you’re way too smart for that. If anyone’s surviving this mess, it’s you.”
Rhea smiled, feeling a little more grounded. It wasn’t over, but for the first time in days, she gained control.
--
Jey lay on the king-sized bed, his phone pressed to his ear as he spoke to the customer service representative. Meanwhile, Rhea sat cross-legged beside him, carefully painting her nails a sleek black. Jon, stretched out on the floor with his dogs lounging around him, was taking in the scene with quiet amusement.
"$1,600 for a phone?" Jey exclaimed, clearly in disbelief. Rhea flashed him a mischievous smile but kept her focus on her nails.
"Yeah, yeah, I still want to get it. It’s the only one she wants…" Jey added reluctantly, glancing at her as if he had no choice in the matter. Rhea just shrugged with a smirk, clearly enjoying how easily she could sway him.
"Desert Titanium, 1TB. No, I don’t need the AppleCare," Jey said, and before he could react, Rhea punched him lightly on the shoulder using her dried hand.
“Ow—nevermind! I’ll take the AppleCare,” Jey quickly corrected himself, giving her a side-eye as he rubbed his arm. “No, I don’t need a case…” Before he could finish, Rhea punched him again, this time a little harder.
“Oww! Okay, okay, a case! A pink one.” Jey grinned, trying to get a rise out of her.
Rhea wasn’t having it and immediately threw another punch.
“Ow! Fine, fine, a black one! I’m sorry,” Jey groaned, defeated, as Jon watched the entire exchange from the floor, barely containing his laughter.
"$49 for a car charger?" Jey blurted out, the incredulity back in his voice. This time, before Rhea could punch him, he held up his hand in defense. But Rhea was quicker. With a grin, she used her foot instead, lightly kicking him in the side.
“Owww… okay, yes, please! Throw in whatever other accessories you’ve got; I’m begging you,” Jey pleaded, his voice a mix of pain and surrender. Jon burst out laughing, thoroughly entertained by the whole ordeal.
When Jey finally got off the phone, he turned to Rhea, a playful smirk on his face. “Your Highness, your $1,800 phone order will be ready for pickup tomorrow, Saturday, at 3:30 PM,” he said with exaggerated amusement, bowing his head slightly in mock servitude.
Rhea smiled, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Good boy,” she teased, and they both laughed, feeling at ease in the comfort of each other’s company.
Jon, still lying on the floor, wiped a tear from his eye, unable to stop laughing at Jey’s ordeal. "You two are something else," he muttered, shaking his head as his dogs nuzzled him.
“Bestieeeee!” Rhea exclaimed, practically glowing as she wiggled her freshly painted black nails in front of Jey. Her excitement was infectious.
“Oooh, girrrrl!” Jey responded in a playful tone, admiring her nails. “Looking fierce!”
Jon, lounging on the floor with the dogs, glanced up with a bored expression. “What are we going to do? I’m getting kind of restless here.”
Jey chuckled, shaking his head. “Uce’, you can’t just enjoy a comfortable situation for once? Always gotta be on the go, huh?”
Before Jon could respond, there was a knock on the door. The sudden sound made all three of them freeze, curiosity piqued.
“I’ll get it you scaredy cats.” Jon said, pushing himself off the floor and heading towards the stairs.
As he made his way down, he called out, “Awh hell, bisexual Undertaker is in Uso territory!” His laugh echoed up the stairs, mingling with the sound of his footsteps.
Rhea’s eyes widened in excitement, and despite the pain in her abdomen, she sprang up from the bed, moving with surprising speed. She darted towards the stairs, nearly tripping in her haste but managing to catch herself just in time. Her smile was so wide it seemed to light up the entire hallway.
When Rhea reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw Damian standing at the door, his presence commanding and warm.
“Damian!” she shouted, her voice filled with joy.
Damian grinned, taking in the sight of Rhea’s enthusiasm. “Hey there, my Tormenta.” He said even with a bigger smile.
Rhea ran to him, almost tackling him with a hug. “I can’t believe you’re here! This is the best surprise ever!”
Jey appeared at the top of the stairs, looking down with a pleased expression. “Guess I should’ve known you’d show up when we least expected it.”
Damian laughed, ruffling Rhea’s hair. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by. Hope I’m not interrupting anything too serious.”
Rhea shook her head, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “No way, this is exactly what we needed. Come on in, let’s hang out!”
Damian stepped inside, and the group began to settle back into the living room. The atmosphere lightened as they prepared to enjoy the unexpected visit. For the first time in a while, Rhea felt a genuine sense of joy, surrounded by her best friend.
As the music from the speakers filled the patio once more, creating a lively and upbeat atmosphere, Jon busied himself with his phone, ordering some more food and drinks. He turned to Damian with a grin, asking, “What kind of beer do you want?”
Damian shrugged casually, “Whatever you’re drinking is fine by me.”
“Got it,” Jon replied, tapping away on his phone as he added a few more items to the order.
Soon enough, all four of them—Rhea, Jey, Jon, and Damian—settled comfortably on the back patio. The pets were a whirlwind of activity, running around the backyard and adding to the joyful chaos. The warm evening air and the sounds of their laughter made the setting feel almost like a scene from a perfect day.
Rhea, still bubbling with excitement from Damian’s unexpected arrival, turned to him with curiosity. “So, Damian, how did you end up here? And why’d you leave Kayden at the Airbnb?”
Damian chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed demeanor. “Well, Mr. Hothead over here,” he said, gesturing to Jon with a playful smirk, “called me up yesterday and asked if I could be a… como… a Happy Dark Presence in his home for his fellow Samoan. Couldn’t say no to that. I also didn’t leave Kayden at the AirBnb. She had Tiffany come and stay with her, I told her you needed cheering up and she understood.”
Rhea’s face lit up with pure joy. “That’s amazing! I’m so glad you’re here. You really made my day.”
Jey, sitting beside Rhea, chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Yeah, I guess I did keep you locked up this morning, didn’t I?”
Damian grinned, winking at Jey. “You know, it’s like I’m Shrek and Rhea’s Fiona and you are Fiona’s dad. Just needed a little help to get out of that tower.”
Rhea burst into laughter, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh my God, that’s perfect! Damian, you’re definitely our Shrek.”
Jey laughed along with the others, shaking his head. “As long as I’m not Lord Farquad, then I guess I can live with it.”
As the conversation flowed seamlessly, Rhea’s curiosity about Jon and Jey’s tattoos grew. “I’d love to hear more about your tattoos,” she said, leaning in. “I’ve seen bits of them, but I want to know the stories behind them.”
Jon and Jey exchanged an amused glance. Jon began to explain with enthusiasm, “Our tattoos are deeply significant. They reflect our Samoan heritage, each design representing aspects of family, strength, and personal journey. They’re not just tattoos; they’re a narrative of who we are.”
Rhea’s eyes sparkled with interest. “That’s incredible. I’ve been thinking about getting a new tattoo. Something with real meaning.”
Jon’s eyes lit up with a mix of excitement and mischief. “Would you consider a traditional Samoan tattoo, Rhea?”
Damian nodded encouragingly. “It would be a great way for you to mark this new chapter in your life. It’s a powerful form of self-expression.”
Jon added, “Our tattoo artist is at our dad’s house right now. With one call, he could be here in an hour.”
Rhea’s face brightened at the thought. “That sounds fantastic! I’d really love that.”
Jey, who had been quietly observing, suddenly interrupted with a firm, “No, no, no…”
Rhea looked at him, confused. “What do you mean, no?”
Jey’s gaze faltered, struggling to find the right words. His mind was racing with emotions he hadn’t fully expressed. The reason for his hesitation was more profound than he had initially let on. He wanted to get matching traditional Samoan wedding tattoos with Rhea. It wasn’t just about getting inked; it was about symbolizing their commitment to each other in a way that was deeply meaningful.
Jey’s voice softened, laden with emotion. “It’s not the right time for that. I don’t want you to rush into something like this.”
Rhea, sensing there was more to Jey’s reluctance, nodded and excused herself to the bathroom, leaving Jey, Jon, and Damian alone in the patio.
As soon as Rhea was out of sight, Jey turned to Jon with a troubled expression. “Don’t tempt her like that,” he said quietly but firmly.
Damian, picking up on Jey’s distress, asked, “What’s going on?”
Jey took a deep breath, his face reflecting a mix of vulnerability and determination. “I want to marry Rhea,” he confessed, his voice cracking slightly. “I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. I finally talked to the attorney today and he started on my divorce. I was hoping to get matching traditional Samoan wedding tattoos with her. It’s something that’s deeply meaningful to me. It’s not just about a tattoo; it’s about marking our commitment, our future together in a way that honors our heritage.”
Jon’s expression shifted to one of understanding. “So, it’s not just about the tattoo. You want it to be a part of a bigger commitment.”
Jey nodded, his eyes earnest. “Exactly. I want it to be special, something that signifies our journey together and our promise to each other. I didn’t want her to rush into a tattoo without understanding how important this is to me. I want it to be something we do together, when we’re both ready for it.”
Damian’s eyes softened, touched by Jey’s heartfelt confession. “Jey, that’s incredibly meaningful. It’s clear you’re thinking about this with a lot of love and respect.”
Jon clapped Jey on the shoulder. “You’re right. It should be something truly special. You should talk to her when you’re ready. She’ll understand.”
The moment she excused herself from the patio, Rhea’s excitement about Damian’s surprise was tinged with an underlying tension. As she walked towards the bathroom, she felt a familiar pull toward the bedroom. The pain in her abdomen had been nagging at her, and the stress of everything lately was becoming overwhelming.
Once inside the bedroom, she made her way to the dresser where she kept her pain pills. She had been taking them more frequently lately, savoring the temporary relief they brought. The escape they provided was becoming a comfort, and she was starting to crave that sensation more and more.
Rhea grabbed the small bottle of pills as she thought of a very awful idea. As she shook out a few tablets, she felt a pang of guilt for needing them so badly, but the allure of the numbness was too strong to resist. She looked around the room, searching for something to help her crush the pills into a fine powder. Her eyes landed on a small glass vase with fake flowers, which added a touch of charm to the room.
The vase seemed perfect for the task. She picked it up, feeling its cool, smooth surface in her hand. With a determined expression, she used the vase to crush the pills into powder. Each motion of the vase against the pills made her heart race with anticipation. The process was oddly satisfying, almost ritualistic. Once the pills were reduced to a fine powder, she wiped the bottom with her hand and she placed the vase back on the shelf, trying to fix it to it's right place.
Her hands trembled slightly as she prepared to snort the powdered pills. She knew it wasn’t the safest method, but the instant relief was too tempting. She pulled out her wallet from dresser drawer and pulled a debit card out. She used it fix it into three perfect lines, she then wiped off the debit card and grabbed a crisp dollar from her wallet, she rolled it into a makeshift straw and with a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, she did the unthinkable...
The act of snorting the powder was a jarring experience, but as the effects began to kick in, she felt a rush of relief that made the discomfort and anxiety melt away. The numbing sensation started to spread through her, dulling the sharp edges of her reality. She leaned against the wall, her mind drifting in a haze of euphoria.
For a brief moment, everything felt lighter. The weight of her worries and the strain of the day seemed to dissolve into nothingness. She allowed herself to sink into the comforting embrace of the high, feeling both liberated and trapped in the same breath. She knew she was slipping further into a dangerous habit, but for now, she couldn’t bring herself to care. She quickly wiped her nose off and checked herself in the mirror, she wiped off the remaining residue and quickly washed her hands.
As she slowly made her way back to the patio, the world around her felt distant, almost dreamlike. She plastered a smile on her face, hoping to hide the fact that she was high and not fully present. Despite the warmth of her friends and the joy of Damian’s surprise, Rhea couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that she was losing control, even as the pills provided her a fleeting sense of euphoria.
--
A few hours earlier, Jon sat quietly in the lobby area of Brentley and Barnum Law Firm, tapping his foot nervously against the polished floor. He glanced around at the modern decor—tasteful, minimalist, designed to put clients at ease. But Jon wasn’t at ease. He hated this waiting game simply because he could only look at tiktok for so long.
Inside the sleek office, Jey sat across from Julian, the lawyer WWE had hired for him. Julian was calm, professional, and had an air of confidence that came with years of navigating high-stakes legal battles. After discussing Matt’s arrest and the legal implications for Rhea and Jey, Julian finally leaned back in his chair and gave the update Jey had been waiting for.
“You and Rhea can leave Orlando on Sunday,” Julian said. “Given the charges against Matt and his current incarceration, there’s no legal reason for you to stay here any longer.”
Jey exhaled, feeling a small weight lift from his chest. "Good," he muttered, though the thought of Matt still being out there, even behind bars, gnawed at him. He shifted in his seat, his mind racing toward a different issue—his marriage to Takecia.
“I wanted to ask you something else,” Jey said, his voice quieter now. He met Julian’s eyes, hesitant for a moment before continuing, “Can you represent me in my divorce?”
Julian raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not surprised. “Your divorce in California?”
Jey nodded. “Yeah, San Francisco. Takecia’s already got herself a lawyer. It’s… it’s happening.”
Julian thought for a moment before responding. “I still have my license in California. That’s where I started my practice. I can absolutely represent you, Jey, but we’ll need to go over the details.”
Jey nodded again, appreciating the professionalism. He wanted this done quickly, cleanly. He didn’t want any more mess than there already was in his life. “I’m going for an uncontested divorce. We’ve already talked about it, and she’s laid out her demands.”
Julian sat up straighter, the gears in his mind turning as he considered the process. “An uncontested divorce means you both agree on all terms—no arguments, no drawn-out court battles. It’s usually the smoother option. However, you’ll still have to deal with California’s six-month waiting period before the divorce is finalized.”
“I understand,” Jey said. “I just want to be fair. For the petition, I’m agreeing to pay for our kids’ college education, we’re going to do shared custody, and Takecia keeps the house. That’s what she wants.”
Julian leaned forward, tapping his pen thoughtfully against his legal pad. “That’s a reasonable arrangement, especially if you’re both on the same page. But are you sure about giving her the house? It’s a significant asset.”
Jey nodded firmly. “Yeah. The house is where she’s raising our kids. I don’t need it.”
Julian took notes, satisfied with Jey’s clarity on the situation. “Okay. We’ll file the petition with those terms. I’ll need you to sign some documents to get things moving, and after that, we’ll let the legal process take its course. You’re looking at about six months before it’s finalized, as I mentioned.”
Jey rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a strange mixture of relief and sadness. Six months. Six months of waiting, of knowing his marriage was ending, of officially closing that chapter of his life. A part of him felt guilt for how it had all unraveled, but another part of him felt an overwhelming sense of inevitability. His heart hadn’t been with Takecia for a long time, not since he met Rhea. This was just the final step in a process that had begun months ago.
Julian glanced over the papers, then looked back at Jey. “If you’re sure this is what you want, I’ll handle it. You’ll be free to move on with your life once everything’s finalized.”
Jey swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. I’m sure. Just… let’s get it done.”
The lawyer nodded, wrapping up the conversation as they stood to shake hands. Jey left Julian’s office feeling like he was walking toward a new beginning but also carrying the weight of his past. As he walked back into the lobby, Jon looked up from his seat, his expression a blend of curiosity and concern.
“How’d it go?” Jon asked, standing up to meet him.
Jey sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s happening. The divorce is going through. Six months, and it’s over.”
Jon clapped his brother on the shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “It’s for the best, Uce. You deserve to be happy.”
Jey didn’t respond right away, but he nodded, the weight of the decision settling into his chest. There was no turning back now. The path forward was clearer than ever, but that didn’t make it any easier to walk.
--
As the evening wore on, Rhea, Damian, Jey, and Jon were all in high spirits, enjoying each other's company and the warmth of Damian’s surprise visit. The conversation flowed effortlessly as each of them each hard a topic to talk about. Suddenly, Damian’s phone rang, breaking into their lively discussion.
“Excuse me for a moment,” Damian said, standing up and stepping away from the group to take the call.
Rhea watched him with a curious glance, but the conversation was muffled as Damian moved a few paces away. After a few moments, Damian’s face tightened with concern, and he responded more seriously.
“Hey, Dominik. What’s up?” Damian asked.
There was a pause as Dominik Mysterio’s voice came through the line. “Hey, Damian. I just got a call from Matt. He’s in jail and apparently looking for Rhea. Do you know anything about this?”
Damian’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Matt. He had been hoping the situation would remain under control, but it seemed Matt’s attempts to reach out were escalating. Damian’s mind raced with the implications.
“Yeah, I know,” Damian replied, his tone heavy with apprehension. “Matt has been trying to contact Rhea. But please, don’t say anything about this to anyone else. It’s important.”
Dominik didn’t ask for further details, simply acknowledging Damian’s request. “Got it. I won’t say a word.”
Damian sighed with relief as the call ended. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before heading back to the group. With a determined look, he pulled out his phone and quickly sent a message to Paul Levesque, their boss.
Damian: Matt is going around calling other wrestlers, trying to reach Rhea. We need to handle this immediately.
Paul’s response came almost instantly.
Paul: I’ll take care of it. Thanks for the heads-up.
Damian put his phone away, a grim expression on his face as he rejoined the group. He forced a smile, trying to mask his concern, but the weight of Matt’s actions was clearly on his mind.
Jey noticed the shift in Damian’s demeanor and leaned in, concern evident. “Everything okay, Damian?”
Damian nodded, though his eyes betrayed his worry. “Yeah, just… had to deal with something. But we’re good for now. Let’s focus on enjoying the evening.”
The group resumed their conversation, but the shadow of Matt’s threat loomed over them, a reminder that not everything was as carefree as it seemed. Rhea, still feeling the effects of her earlier actions, was more focused on the present moment, trying to savor the time with her friends and momentarily push aside her anxieties.
As the night wore on, the clock struck 1 a.m., and Jon, heavily buzzed from the evening's festivities, excused himself, stumbling slightly as he made his way toward the guest room. He was ready for bed and couldn’t help but chuckle at Jey’s parting joke about needing lotion since Trinity was out of town.
“Shut up, Uce,” Jon said with a grin, flipping Jey off.
Damian, who had been enjoying the playful banter, chimed in with a smirk. “I guess I’m stuck with the couple tonight then.”
Jey grinned. “Uce, I love you, but Damian, you going on my nephew’s bed. Sorry, man.”
Rhea, still buzzing from the earlier excitement but feeling the weight of her own issues, laughed at the banter. As they all moved back inside, they gathered the pets, ushering them into the house with them. The house was now a cozy chaos of people and animals, but there was an underlying sense of warmth and camaraderie.
Jey showed Damian to the kid’s bedroom, a cheerful room full of toys and colorful decor. “Goodnight, Damian. If you need the bathroom, it’s just down the hall.”
Damian thanked him and bid goodnight to Rhea, who gave him a heartfelt hug. “Goodnight, Rhea. Sleep well.”
As Rhea and Jey headed to their own room, Jey couldn’t help but notice Rhea’s sluggish, almost detached manner. It was concerning, especially since she hadn’t had much to drink that evening. He tried to catch her eye, but she was already pulling her shirt over her body, revealing just her bra. For the first time, Jey’s attention was drawn to the bandage covering her abdomen, a reminder of the recent trauma she had endured.
Rhea noticed Jey’s gaze lingering on her bandage and, with a hint of defensiveness, asked, “What, don’t you want to fuck me anymore?”
Jey’s face fell, taken aback by the bluntness of her comment. It was completely out of character for her, and he could see the hurt and confusion in her eyes. He struggled to find the right words, feeling the weight of everything that had happened recently.
“It’s not that,” Jey said softly. “It’s just… with everything that’s been going on, I’m worried about you. I didn’t mean to make you feel… less.”
Rhea rolled her eyes, clearly frustrated. “I’m not a damn glass doll, Jey. I’m fine.”
Jey’s confusion deepened. They had just enjoyed a great night with friends, and now she was acting as if everything was falling apart. He could see the hurt in her eyes, the pain masked by her attempts to appear strong.
Rhea, with a sigh, put her shirt back on and climbed into bed, her back turned to Jey. The room fell into a heavy silence, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. Jey lay beside her, his mind racing as he tried to understand the sudden shift in her mood. The night had started with laughter and companionship, but now it was tinged with a sense of melancholy and confusion.
As Rhea lay still, facing away from him, Jey reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand gently on her shoulder. “Rhea,” he said softly, “talk to me. What’s going on?”
But Rhea remained silent, the only response the subtle rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed. The weight of the night’s events pressed down on both of them, leaving them in a tangled web of emotions that neither knew how to unravel.
Jey’s frustration grew as he faced Rhea’s silence. Despite his repeated pleas to talk, she remained resolutely turned away. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. It wasn’t right, he knew that. He felt a pang of guilt, but his concern for her overshadowed his reservations.
He gently pulled her back toward him, his touch tender. For a moment, Rhea’s face lit up with the familiar, radiant smile that he loved so much. It was a small, fleeting comfort in the midst of their turmoil.
“What do you want daddy to do to you?” he asked softly, trying to keep his tone light despite the heaviness in his heart.
Rhea’s eyes, clouded and distant, barely focused on him. Her voice was a sluggish, almost inaudible slur. “Everything…”
The word hung in the air, and Jey felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The haze in her eyes and the way she spoke made him uneasy. This wasn’t the Rhea he knew. She was slipping into a state he didn’t fully understand, and it troubled him deeply.
He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, his voice barely a whisper. “Soon,” he said, hoping to provide some comfort despite his own confusion and worry.
Rhea’s smile faded, and she rolled back onto her side, clearly irritated by his response. The warmth between them evaporated, leaving only a cold silence in its wake. Jey watched her, feeling a pang of helplessness. He had wanted to reach out to her, to fix what was wrong, but instead, it seemed he only managed to deepen the rift.
As Rhea settled back into bed, facing away from him, the room grew heavy with unspoken emotions. Jey lay there, staring at the ceiling, the weight of the night pressing down on him. He knew that Rhea was struggling, but he felt powerless to help her in the way she needed. His heart ached as he grappled with the complexity of her pain and his own sense of inadequacy.
The silence stretched on, filled with the quiet hum of the house and the distant sound of the pets moving about. Jey remained awake, his mind racing with worries and regrets, while Rhea’s shallow, uneven breaths filled the quiet room. The distance between them seemed insurmountable, and he wondered how they could bridge the gap that had grown so suddenly between them.
As the night wore on, the darkness outside mirrored the uncertainty within, and Jey was left alone with his thoughts, yearning for a solution he couldn’t yet grasp.
--
Rhea woke up with a pounding headache, her mind foggy from the previous night’s haze. The dim light filtering through the curtains only added to her discomfort. As she groaned and tried to sit up, the realization of not having showered before going to bed hit her. She glanced at Jey, who was still sleeping soundly beside her, his soft snoring a faint reminder of the comfort she had once felt.
She slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. With a groggy sense of urgency, she undressed and headed towards the bathroom, not fully processing her surroundings. Her foggy state of mind led her to forget that this was not their home and that Jon, Damian, and Jey were all in the house.
Turning on the shower, Rhea stepped under the hot water, letting it cascade over her and ease the tension in her muscles. The steam enveloped her, and she let out a sigh of relief as the heat worked its magic on her aching head. The shower was a sanctuary, a brief escape from the confusion and discomfort of the previous night.
After a few minutes, Rhea turned off the water, wrapped a towel around her body, and walked back towards the bedroom. The house was quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of the pets in the other rooms. As she reentered the room, she saw that Jey had woken up.
He looked at her with a mixture of confusion and concern. The sight of her in a towel, freshly showered and smiling, seemed out of place considering the mood from the night before. She approached him with a warm, somewhat uncertain smile and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.
Jey’s confusion deepened. “Morning, Rhea,” he said, his voice groggy. “You feeling okay?”
Rhea nodded, though she couldn’t fully remember the details of last night. “Yeah, I’m just… trying to shake off this headache. I forgot to shower and just needed to freshen up.”
Jey sat up, rubbing his eyes and trying to piece together the previous night. He was still processing the sudden shift in her mood and the oddity of her early morning actions. “You’re not making much sense, Rhea. Last night—”
“I know,” she interrupted, her voice soft but determined. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember much, but I’m trying to make things right. I just wanted to start the day fresh.”
Jey took a deep breath, sensing that there was more beneath the surface of her cheerful facade. He reached out and took her hand gently. “Rhea, if something’s wrong, we need to talk about it. You can’t keep pushing it away.”
Rhea smiled weakly and squeezed his hand. “Let’s enjoy the morning and figure things out as we go.”
Jey hesitated but nodded, sensing that pushing further might only cause more strain. He watched as Rhea got dressed and moved around the room, a sense of unease still lingering between them. He wanted to understand what was going on, but for now, he decided to give her the space she seemed to need.
As Rhea prepared for the day, Jey remained thoughtful, the unease in his heart growing. He knew they needed to address the issues between them, but for now, he could only hope that the day would bring clarity and healing for both of them.
Rhea sat at the vanity, her movements deliberate as she applied her makeup. Her excitement about picking up her new iPhone was like it of a kid in a candy store, a small but significant joy in the midst of everything she had been dealing with. Jey, meanwhile, was styling his hair, focused on making sure he looked presentable for their outing.
“We’re finally getting out of the house,” Rhea said with a smile, her eyes brightening at the thought of the simple trip to the Verizon store.
Jey looked at her through the mirror, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Yeah, it’s about time. I know it’s not much, but it’s a step in the right direction.” Given last night’s tension, he figured he would give in to Rhea and finally take her out.
Damian and Jon had left earlier to explore the city. Damian, eager to see more of Florida, was taking full advantage of the opportunity to explore, as he had only been to the state a few times before. Rhea and Jey were left to themselves, and Jey decided to seize the moment for a quick errand.
Both of them were dressed in all black, a conscious decision by Rhea to cover up and maintain some semblance of privacy. It was a change compared to the usual vibrant colors Jey might wear, but it provided a sense of security and anonymity they craved.
As they left the house and made their way to the Verizon store, Rhea couldn’t help but feel a sense of liberation. The prospect of a new phone and a brief change of scenery was exhilarating, and she welcomed the distraction from the recent turmoil in her life.
When they arrived at the Verizon store, they checked in with the manager to ensure their privacy. To their relief, the store was quiet, with only two elderly women browsing through accessories. The tranquility of the store provided a welcoming to the chaos that had marked their recent days.
The manager greeted them with a friendly smile and guided them to the counter where Rhea’s iPhone was waiting. As Jey and Rhea approached, the manager quickly retrieved the phone from the back and handed it to Rhea with a flourish.
“There you go,” the manager said. “Your iPhone 16 Pro Max in Desert Titanium. I hope you enjoy it! The accessories and case are all here as well.”
Rhea’s eyes lit up as she took the phone, her excitement evident. “Thank you so much! I’ve been looking forward to this.”
Jey watched her with a smile, pleased to see her happiness. “Glad we could get this sorted. Now we just need to get everything set up and you’ll be all set.”
Rhea nodded, her smile unwavering as she admired her new phone. The brief outing had already started to lift her spirits, and she was eager to go somewhere else and Jey knew just the right spot.
As Jey and Rhea left the Verizon store and got into Jon's car, Jey turned to Rhea with a warm smile. “How about we go watch the ocean?” he suggested.
Rhea’s face lit up instantly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Without hesitation, she leaned in and kissed him gently. “I am so in love with you,” she whispered, her eyes brimming with affection.
Jey’s heart swelled at her words. He started the car and began driving towards Titusville, FL, a serene spot just 46 minutes away. As they drove, Rhea reached out and placed her hand on his. Understanding the gesture, Jey gently took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. The simple touch brought a deep sense of comfort to both of them.
The drive was soothing, with Rhea feeling an unprecedented sense of calm and peace. The rhythmic hum of the car, coupled with the soft music playing through the speakers, added to her tranquility.
Jey's music filled the car, and Rhea found herself smiling as the melodies wrapped around them. “Oh, this is it right here, babe, just for you,” Jey said, his voice carrying a hint of playfulness as he turned up the volume. The familiar beat of "Let Me Hold You" by Bow Wow and Omarion began to play, setting a romantic mood.
As the chorus approached, Jey started singing along..
In my arms in my mind all the time I wanna Keep you right by my side 'til I die I'm gonna Hold you down and make sure everything is right with you You can never go wrong if you let me hold you
His voice steady and full of love as he kept his eyes focused on the road. His singing was a perfect mix of heartfelt and playful, creating a warm atmosphere inside the car.
Rhea couldn’t help but join in, her voice blending with his. Together, they sang along to the song, their voices harmonizing effortlessly. The moment was pure and joyful, a relief to the complications of their recent days.
Down like a real friend's supposed to I'm trying to show you The life of somebody like you should be living Ohhhhh, baby baby You could never go wrong if you let me hold you
The shared experience of singing along to their song, coupled with the comforting rhythm of the drive, made Rhea feel deeply connected to Jey. As the song played on, their hands remained clasped, and their smiles grew wider, their love for each other shining brightly in the soft light of the car.
The ocean was still some miles away, but in that moment, the journey felt like a celebration of their love and a brief escape from the troubles they had faced.
Jey and Rhea finally arrived in Titusville, FL, and Jey headed straight to his favorite spot, the Moonlight Drive Inn. The familiar neon sign and the comforting scent of burgers and fries greeted them.
“Do you want to come inside and check out the menu?” Jey asked, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.
Rhea shook her head with a smile. “Just get what you usually get. And add a lemonade for me, please.”
Jey nodded and went inside to place their order. He knew exactly what to get: the mouth-watering bacon double cheeseburger and sweet potato waffle fries. After a brief wait, the cashier called out his number, and Jey collected their food and drinks.
Returning to the car, Jey carefully placed the bags on the floor and made a quick 3-minute drive to the beach. They reached a secluded spot that Jey knew well, perfect for a quiet, intimate meal.
He parked the car and pulled out the two trays from underneath Jon’s car seat. After giving them a quick wipe to ensure they were clean, he retrieved the bags of food. With a gentle smile, he handed one of the bags to Rhea.
“What did you get me?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.
Jey opened the bag and revealed its contents. “A bacon double cheeseburger and sweet potato waffle fries. And I also grabbed some fried pickles and fried mushrooms for us to share.”
Rhea’s eyes lit up with delight. “You’re the best,” she said, taking the bag from him.
They settled into their seats, the car providing a cozy refuge from the gentle breeze outside. Rhea eagerly unwrapped her burger and took a big bite. Her eyes closed in pleasure as she savored the taste.
“Oh my god,” she moaned, her voice full of satisfaction. “That’s a good fucking burger.”
Jey chuckled, watching her enjoy the food. He took a bite of his own burger, nodding in agreement. “Told you it was worth it.”
As they ate, the car was filled with the soft sounds of their enjoyment and the rhythmic crashing of the waves in the distance. The simplicity of the meal and the serene setting made the moment feel special, a perfect break from the recent chaos in their lives.
After finishing their meal and taking in the serene view of the ocean, Jey and Rhea found themselves enveloped in a cocoon of intimacy within the car. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore provided a soothing soundtrack as they inched closer, their eyes reflecting the soft glow of the fading sun.
Their kisses started gently, a tender exploration of each other's lips. Each touch was careful and deliberate, as if they were savoring the newfound closeness. Jey’s hands slid to Rhea’s face, his fingers tracing delicate lines along her jaw, his thumb brushing softly against her cheek. Rhea responded with equal devotion, her hands weaving through his hair, pulling him closer, their breaths mingling in the small space of the car.
The passion between them deepened with every kiss, growing more fervent and urgent. Their bodies pressed together, creating a tangible warmth that seemed to ignite the air around them. Jey’s lips moved over Rhea’s with a mix of tenderness and intensity, each kiss conveying a thousand unspoken words of love and desire.
Rhea’s response was just as fervent; she clung to him, her fingers roaming over his back and shoulders, her lips dancing against his with an eagerness that mirrored his own. The world outside their car became a distant blur, leaving them in a cocoon of shared passion and connection. Their kisses were an eloquent expression of the deep bond they felt, each touch and caress a testament to their profound intimacy.
Just as the moment reached its peak, the car’s voice interrupted, announcing a call from Jon.
The car's voice came through, “You've got a call from Twin. Do you want to answer or reject?"
Jey sighed, a bit annoyed at the interruption. “Yes, Jonathan, what do you want?” he answered, trying to mask his frustration.
Jon’s voice crackled through the speaker, carrying a hint of impatience. “Any chance Bonnie and Clyde are joining us for dinner? Me and my lovely wife, who just got in and is a bit cranky, and the bisexual undertaker have booked a reservation for a private dinner.”
Jey couldn’t help but chuckle at Jon’s description. “You’re really laying it on thick, huh? I guess we’ll join you.”
Rhea, overhearing the conversation, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, let’s go. I’m up for it.”
Jey relayed the message to Jon, who confirmed that the reservation was for 9 PM. He then hung up, leaving Jey and Rhea to realize that it was already 6 PM.
After ending the call, Jey looked at Rhea, who was still catching her breath, her cheeks flushed from their passionate encounter. “We’ve got a bit of time before dinner,” Jey said with a playful grin.
Rhea, her smile still lingering from their intimate exchange, shook her head with a soft laugh. “I can’t believe we’ve been lost in each other for almost an hour.”
Jey’s eyes sparkled with affection as he teased her. “You’ve got lungs of steel, you know that?”
Rhea rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “You’re impossible,” she said, nudging him playfully. The warmth between them was caring, their earlier connection translating into a shared laughter that only deepened their bond.
As they drove back, their hands intertwined, they were both content and at peace. The romance of their moments together had created a beautiful memory, and the anticipation of spending time with Jon, Trinity, and Damian only added to the joy of their evening. They knew that the night ahead would be a cherished continuation of their special connection, filled with moments of warmth, laughter, and love.
Rhea stood in front of the open closet, arms crossed, biting her lip as she scanned through Trinity's collection of dresses. The closet was bursting with color — vibrant yellows, deep reds, pastel blues — a more girly change to her own darker wardrobe back home. She tugged at one dress, a flowy floral number, and held it up with a look of mild frustration.
"Why does Trinity have nothing but color?" she muttered, shaking her head as she looked through another handful of dresses.
Jey, stretched out on the bed with his phone in hand, glanced over at her, amused. "Not everyone is as dark as you," he teased, the corners of his lips lifting into a smirk. "But come here for a sec."
Rhea sighed, setting the dress back on its hanger and making her way over to Jey's side, her brows furrowing as she noticed the Zillow app open on his screen. "What is it? Pensacola?" she asked, eyeing the house listing he was showing her.
Jey nodded, sliding the phone into her hand. "Yeah. Trinity and Jon are gonna sell this house. They wanna’ move back to Pensacola."
Rhea blinked, surprised. "Seriously? I thought they loved it here."
"They do," Jey said, sitting up and leaning closer to her. "But Jon’s missing home, and you know how it is with the family. Trinity’s down for it, too. Says she wants to be closer to everyone." He paused for a moment, reading the skepticism on her face. "It's just a rental for now, though. Nothing permanent."
Rhea glanced back at the listing as Jey swiped down showing her the photos of the property, still unsure. She liked the idea of being closer to the family, but a sudden move like this felt...unsettling. Especially after everything that had happened recently. "I don’t know, Jey... I mean, it's been crazy lately. Now moving?"
He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, kissing her temple. "Babe, it's gonna be alright. Plus, my dad's putting the house in Titusville on Airbnb. He’s moving back to Pensacola, too. Everyone's gonna be around. It’ll be good, trust me."
She looked down at the phone in her hand, then back at Jey, the warmth of his arm around her easing her nerves just a bit. "Yeah, I guess... it could be good. I just don’t want any more surprises, you know?"
Jey smiled, brushing a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. "No more surprises. Just family, okay? We'll figure everything out."
Rhea leaned into him, feeling a small sense of calm as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Alright... I'll trust you. But I still gotta figure out what to wear for this dinner," she added, her voice lightening as she gestured to the colorful closet with a faint chuckle.
Jey grinned, tapping the screen of his phone again. "Well, at least I don’t have to worry about that. I already know what I’m wearing."
Rhea rolled her eyes, playfully shoving him. "Of course you do. Lucky you."
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
After what felt like an eternity of sifting through endless colorful options, Rhea finally settled on something that felt more like her. She tugged a little black lace dress from the back of the closet — sleek, fitted, and unapologetically bold. As soon as she slid it on, she knew it was the one. The way it hugged her curves made her feel confident, even if it was a bit tighter than she wanted. She twisted around in front of the mirror, admiring the way the lace glistened under the light, but there was one problem — the back was too tight.
Rhea huffed in frustration, tugging at the zipper, but it wouldn’t budge. Defeated, she slipped out of the room and into the bedroom where Jey was still lounging, focused on his phone.
"Jey, can you help me?" she asked, trying to sound casual, but there was a hint of irritation in her voice.
Jey didn’t look up at first, too absorbed in scrolling through his Zillow listings, but the moment he glanced over at her, his jaw nearly dropped. He blinked, slowly lowering the phone as he took in the sight of her in that dress. The tight black lace clung to her in all the right places, and the subtle sheen gave her an almost dangerous allure. He’d seen Rhea look amazing before, but this? This was next level.
“Damn, babe,” Jey muttered, his voice low, clearly blown away. “You look… insane.”
Rhea gave him a smirk, feeling her confidence swell even more at his reaction. "Yeah? Well, you can admire me after you fix this." She turned her back to him, pulling her hair to the side to reveal the too-tight zipper.
Jey got up quickly, still a bit speechless as he moved behind her. His fingers brushed her skin as he carefully loosened the zipper, his eyes never leaving her reflection in the mirror. "You seriously look amazing," he said quietly, his hands lingering for a moment longer than needed as he adjusted the back of the dress.
Rhea caught his gaze in the mirror and smiled, biting her lip. "Glad you like it," she teased. "Now focus, I need to be able to breathe at dinner."
Jey chuckled, finally loosening the zipper just enough to give her some room, he used the buttons inside the dress to fill the gap from the zipper and he couldn’t help himself from letting his hands rest on her waist for a moment longer. "If we weren’t going to dinner with Jon and Trinity, I’d suggest we stay in," he murmured, half-joking, half-serious.
Rhea turned around, playfully swatting his chest. "Nice try. We’re going, and you’re gonna sit across from me and pretend like you’re not thinking about this dress all night."
Jey grinned, pulling her closer for a quick kiss. "Deal. But just know, I’ll be thinking about it."
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Jey finally slipped into his outfit, looking sharp and relaxed in his black button-up shirt and fitted jeans. He adjusted his collar in the mirror while Rhea fussed with her makeup, adding the final touches to her look. Once satisfied, he stepped back, nodding to himself. "Alright, I'm heading downstairs," he said, giving Rhea a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving the room.
As he made his way downstairs, he found Damian, Jon, and Trinity standing around in the living room, chatting and laughing. Trinity noticed him first, checking her phone. “It’s almost 8:30… we gotta gooooooo,” she teased, dragging out the words with a playful smirk.
Jey rolled his eyes, pulling his phone out. "Alright, alright. Let me call Rhea before y’all lose it." He reached over the stairs and called up the stairs, "Babe, we gotta roll!"
From upstairs, Rhea’s voice echoed back, "Coming!" She grabbed her new iPhone and wallet from the dresser, giving herself one last glance in the mirror. Satisfied, she took a deep breath and strutted down the stairs.
As she stepped into the living room, all conversation halted. Damian, Jon, and Trinity stared at her, their jaws slightly dropping as she descended the stairs in that little black lace dress. Jey stood there, grinning like a fool, unable to hide his pride.
Damian broke the silence with a laugh, shaking his head. “Where’s the stereo so I can play Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer? It’s giving She’s All That.”
Rhea stopped at the bottom of the stairs, glancing down at her outfit, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under all the attention. "Too much?" she asked, her brows furrowed as she tugged slightly at the hem of the dress.
Immediately, they all shook their heads, a chorus of "No!" erupting from the group.
"Rhea," Trinity said, stepping forward with a smile, "you can personally have that dress because no one else could pull it off like you. Trust me, it’s perfect."
Rhea’s tense expression melted into a smile. "Thanks, Trin," she said, feeling more confident again.
Jey extended his arm out toward her, a charming grin still plastered on his face. “My beautiful girlfriend…” he said, emphasizing the words as if he wanted the whole world to know.
Rhea smiled, taking his arm and glancing at him with affection. "You're too sweet," she murmured, giving his arm a playful squeeze. They looked every bit the perfect couple, ready for a night out, and as they headed toward the door, the excitement in the air grew.
"Alright, let's get going before Trinity freaks out," Damian joked, ushering everyone out.
As the white Escalade eased to a stop in front of Fogo De Chão, the staccato burst of camera flashes greeted them before they could even open the doors. Jey's sharp eyes caught the swarm of media waiting just beyond the valet stand, their cameras poised like vultures. He sighed, glancing over at Damian, who was seated next to Rhea.
“Damian, take Rhea and go in first,” Jey instructed quietly, his voice low and calm despite the brewing storm of reporters. “Stay behind Jon and Trinity. We’ll keep the focus on them.”
Damian nodded without hesitation. He stepped out of the car, opening the door for Rhea, who quickly slid on her sunglasses, her face partially hidden beneath the brim of her cap. She gave Jey a brief, grateful look before stepping onto the pavement, her arm lightly brushing against Damian’s as they made their way toward the restaurant entrance. Behind them, Jon and Trinity exited the car, their frustration evident in their body language.
Trinity shot a glare toward the photographers, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I swear, they can’t leave us alone for one night,” she muttered under her breath as she adjusted her sunglasses and smoothed her jacket.
“Don’t let it get to you,” Jon said, his hand brushing hers as they walked. “Let’s just get inside.”
“The reservation’s for Fatu,” Trinity snapped, turning to the valet as she handed him the keys. Her tone was short, and her patience was clearly wearing thin.
The valet smiled politely, quickly scanning his list before offering instructions on how to retrieve the car. “Thank you, ma’am. We’ll have the car ready for you when you’re done.”
Trinity barely acknowledged him as she ushered the group toward the entrance, eager to escape the blinding flashes of light and murmured questions from the reporters. As they passed through the glass doors, the cool, quiet interior of Fogo De Chão was a walk in the park compared to the chaos outside. The familiar scent of roasting meats greeted them, the atmosphere inside serene and calm compared to the frenzy they had just left behind.
The restaurant’s manager, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and a kind smile, immediately approached them, his eyes filled with concern. “Mr. and Mrs. Fatu I’m so sorry about the media. We didn’t expect this tonight.”
“It’s fine,” Jon said, though his tone suggested it wasn’t fine at all. “Just make sure we don’t have to deal with them while we’re in here.”
“Of course,” the manager assured him, nodding quickly. “I’ve already arranged for a private room in the back. I’ll have the waitress take you there right away.”
A server appeared, her smile welcoming as she gestured for them to follow her. The group made their way through the main dining area, the lively chatter of diners and the sound of clinking glasses surrounding them, though it all felt distant, like a world apart. Rhea kept her head low as they walked, her body language still tense from the encounter with the press. Damian, always protective, remained close to her side, his presence offering silent support.
They were led into a dimly lit private room at the back of the restaurant, a secluded space with large windows that overlooked a quiet garden, the soft glow of candlelight giving the room an intimate feel. It was exactly what they needed—privacy, away from prying eyes.
As everyone took their seats around the large, round table, a heavy silence settled over them. Rhea removed her sunglasses, placing them down on the table beside her phone. She glanced at Jey, who sat across from her, their eyes meeting briefly. The last few months had been an emotional rollercoaster, and though the noise outside had momentarily quieted, the weight of everything they’d been through was still there, lingering between them like unspoken words.
Trinity sighed as she settled into her chair, her fingers tapping restlessly against the edge of the table. “Can’t even go out for dinner without them showing up,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. “I’m so tired of it.”
Jon placed a comforting hand on her arm, leaning in slightly. “Let’s just focus on tonight. We’re here, we’re safe, and we’ve got the best food in town coming our way.”
“Yeah,” Damian chimed in, flashing a small smile at Rhea, who sat next to him. “Let’s make the most of it. We’ve earned a little peace after everything.”
Rhea nodded slowly, but her mind was still far away, her thoughts drifting back to the whirlwind of events—Jey, the affair, the pregnancy, and the heartbreaking loss that still ached deep in her chest. She glanced down at her hands, her fingers absentmindedly fidgeting with the edge of the napkin in front of her. Damian, ever the observant friend, reached over and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. His silent reassurance grounded her, pulling her back into the present.
The server returned with menus, placing them down on the table as she took their drink orders. As the room began to settle, the tension slowly ebbed away, the dim lighting and quiet atmosphere offering them a momentary reprieve from the chaos outside.
“Let’s make a toast,” Jon said suddenly, lifting his glass of water as he waited for the others to join him. “To getting through this mess. To family, to friends… and to better days ahead.”
Everyone raised their glasses in silent agreement. Rhea managed a small smile, glancing around the table at the people who had become her anchor in the storm. For now, in this quiet room with the people who mattered most, she could try to let go of the weight pressing down on her, if only for a little while.
Rhea excused herself from the table, her stomach churning for more reasons than just the food. She could feel the weight of the pill bottle in her purse, calling to her. As everyone was almost done eating, she seized the moment, muttering something about needing to freshen up. Slipping away from the table, she glanced back to see if anyone noticed, but they were still engaged in conversation.
Jey, on the other hand, had been watching her more closely than she realized. He quickly finished his lamb chops, excusing himself in a hurry. As he stood up, Jon couldn’t resist the opportunity.
“You need a condom, Uce?” Jon teased, a smirk spreading across his face. The comment hit like a thunderclap.
Damian and Trinity erupted into laughter, their voices cutting through the low hum of the restaurant. Jey didn’t even bother to respond verbally, flipping them off instead as he made his way toward the bathroom. His heart raced, not entirely sure why, but something felt off with Rhea tonight.
He saw her slip into the family bathroom, the door barely shutting behind her. He hesitated only for a moment before following her. Quietly, he turned the handle and stepped inside, careful not to startle her. But she already seemed on edge, her hand darting out of her purse the second he entered.
Rhea froze, her breath catching in her throat, her eyes wide as she looked at him. She stood by the sink, inches away from pulling out the pill bottle she thought she so desperately needed.
“What are you doing in here?” she asked, her voice shaky, the question more of a defense mechanism than anything else. Fear flickered in her eyes—she wasn't ready for this conversation.
Jey stepped closer, his eyes locking with hers. He could tell something was wrong. Something deeper than just sneaking away for a break. Jey leaned against the sink, his eyes soft but full of concern. He broke the silence gently. “Babe… I hear them.”
Rhea froze, her breath catching in her throat. She didn’t dare look up as she felt the weight of his words settle between them. “What do you mean?” she asked, feigning innocence, her fingers brushing against the edge of her purse again.
Jey’s expression didn’t change as he referenced the pills. “The bottle. I hear it every time you move.” His voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge of worry underneath. “Are you in that much pain?”
Rhea forced herself to meet his gaze, and without thinking, she lied. “It’s… It’s just the pain, Jey. The cramps. They’ve been killing me. I needed something.”
Jey’s face hardened just a little, and his tone dropped. “Nah, Demi… I saw the bottle. The ‘as needed’ pills? They’re gone.” He shook his head slightly, disappointment creeping in. “You haven’t even touched the antibiotics for the infection. The Oxycodone… that’s the only thing you’ve been taking.”
Rhea winced. He never called her by her real name unless things were serious—really serious. The guilt began to gnaw at her, but she forced herself to hold his gaze.
“Joshua, it’s the cramps… they hurt me…” She lied again, the words bitter as they left her lips. She could feel the gap between them widening with each untruth.
Jey didn’t push further, but the weight of his disappointment was clear. He sighed, stepping closer to her, his fingers tracing her cheek before he leaned in and kissed her softly. It wasn’t like his usual kisses—this one was filled with a deep sadness and vulnerability. When he pulled back, he looked into her eyes, and for the first time, his walls came down.
“Demi, I love you,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you more than anything. I’d do anything for you, you know that. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you from Matt, but moving forward, I want us to start fresh.” His hand found hers, squeezing it gently. “I already started the process to divorce Takecia.”
Rhea blinked, shocked by the admission. She hadn’t expected him to take that step so soon, and hearing him say it made her heart race.
“I’ll help you divorce Matt too,” Jey continued. “We can be free of all this. I wouldn’t be here, buying you a new phone or planning a life together, if I didn’t mean it. Fuck… Dem I wouldn’t be here if I thought you was a ho’. I’m all in, Demi. I love you. I want a future with you.”
Rhea’s eyes filled with tears, the sincerity in his voice cutting through every defense she had built up. He was right—he wouldn’t be doing any of this if he wasn’t serious. He was all in.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Rhea made a strong choice. She reached into her purse, pulled out the pill bottle, and handed it to Jey without saying a word. Her hand trembled as she let go, but the moment felt powerful—like reclaiming a piece of herself she was about lose.
Jey looked at the bottle, his expression softening. Without hesitation, he walked over to the trash can and dumped the pills, letting them fall away with a quiet clatter. He didn’t say anything, but the gesture spoke volumes.
When he turned back to her, his eyes were filled with a mix of love and relief. He walked back over, cupping her face in his hands. “I’m all in if you are, Demi.”
Rhea nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks as she whispered, “I’m in, Joshua. I’m all in.”
They stood there in the quiet of the bathroom, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the weight of their situation slowly lifted. For the first time, love wasn’t just something they said to each other—it was the choice they made. Together.
Tumblr media
29 notes · View notes
tradgedyinwaves · 1 day
Text
Touch - Ch. 11
tw: medical language, scenes of torture (slicing of skin, beaten reader)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Waking up had never hurt so much. There was a cannula in your nose and an IV in your hand. Every intake of breath burned in your lungs. Your eyes blinked away the light, looking around the room as you took in your surroundings. 
To your left, you could see the door to your room and a couple chairs sat next to your bed. A computer and other medical equipment took up the corner next to your bed. At the foot of your bed stood your bed table, covered in different floral arrangements and cards. To your right, a wall of windows covered by heavy curtains sat above a small couch where a man sat, head in his hands.
“Kyle?” you questioned, voice cracking from the lack of use and the cotton type dryness of your mouth. Kyle shot off the couch and to your side, grabbing a cup of water with a straw and holding it to your lips. You wrapped your lips around the end and sucked, groaning at the relief of the water wetting your palate. 
“Thanks,” you croaked out as he smiled down at you, the perfect white of his teeth almost shining in the low light of the room. “How long have I been out?” you asked, looking around the room again with a furrowed brow.
“Two days. Those hits you took really did you in. Otherwise, you’re alright. You were dehydrated and over tired,” Kyle explained calmly, moving to sit in the armchair tucked into the right corner next to your bed.
“Is every-” You coughed, groaning at the pain of using your throat and Kyle shushed you before speaking. “Price and I are alright, normal scrapes and scratches. Johnny got treated for a piece of rebar that tore a chunk out of his side. He’s actually in the next room,” he informed you, sitting back in the chair.  “Si?” you inquired, not missing that Kyle had left the big brute out of his roll call. 
“He was really hurt, dove,” he drug a hand down his face, closing his eyes to take a deep breath before his chocolate eyes met yours. “He’s in the ICU. Fractured his tibia and broke his fibula. But the docs are concerned about the sternal fracture,” he continued, watching you for your reaction.
“Can I see them?” you croaked out your question, using the remote to lift the head of your bed so you were sitting. “We’d have to ask the doc, but we were mainly just waiting for you to wake up,” he answered, standing and coming to the side of the bed to take your hand. 
“I’m so glad you’re okay, dove. We thought we were going to lose you.” He brought your hand to his face and you cupped his jaw gently while he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to your temple before resting his forehead against yours for the soft, quiet moment of relief to wash over both of you. 
The silence was filled with slow breaths as the two of you reveled in the presence of the other. Unfortunately, the silence was broken as your doctor came in and smiled. “Well, look at that. Our sleeping beauty has awoken,” she chirped, much too happy for this early in the morning. “Everything looks good. We do encourage you to get up and walk around a little throughout the day. Don’t stress yourself though,” she continued, chipper as ever. 
“Can I see Johnny and Simon?” you asked, eyes eager and glassy as you gazed at the doctor. “Hm, I don’t see why not. Mr. Mactavish is next door. He’s been awake all night asking for you. Mr. Riley is in a medically induced coma to allow for his wounds to heal more. He put up quite the fight when he first woke up, but you’re welcome to see him,” she concluded, watching you and Kyle with a keen eye. 
With a brief goodbye and directions to Kyle to make sure you didn’t stress too hard or take out your IV, the doctor disappeared again. You were already working on getting out of the bed, grateful someone had thought to put some grippy socks on your feet.
Kyle rushed around the end of the bed, grabbing the sterile, papery robe that hung next to the door. He slid it over your shoulders and tied it around your waist so your back end wasn’t exposed. 
Together, the pair of you trekked next door and you let out a sigh of relief when you found Johnny awake. “Johnny…” you sighed out his name, shuffling over to the bed and dragging Kyle along behind you. “Petal, you’re okay. I didn’t get to see you before they took me in for surgery and then everything with Si-” His words were cut off as you draped yourself over him in a careful hug and he placed his hand over the back of your head, sighing at the relief of your presence.
Kyle’s hand rubbed over your back until you stood from your spot, bringing a hand to gently cup Johnny’s jaw. “Thank you,” you whispered, looking over your shoulder to Kyle. “To all of you. You saved me and I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.” 
“I can think of a few things, little bird.” John stood at the door, a soft smile on his face as he looked at the scene before him. You shuffled over to him, pushing past Kyle and wrapping your arms around the waist of the Captain. “I’ll do it. Whatever it is,” you murmured against his chest, so happy that they were okay. His bulky arms wrapped around you and you felt him breathe you in as his chest expanded. 
Before he could break his long running streak of not crying (he cried when they brought Simon in but he won’t tell you that), he sniffled and pulled back, hands on your shoulders as he looked you over. His eyes hardened slightly at the bandage still around your throat, but overall he was glad you were okay. 
“Kyle, why don’t you stay here with Johnny? I’ll take her to see Simon,” John offered, pulling you into his side. Kyle nodded and the two men said their goodbyes as John ushered you from the room. 
As you walked alongside him, you noticed his steps were measured and slow in order to not outpace you. He kept you tucked into his side, the IV pole in the other hand as he led you to Simon’s room.
“I want you to be prepared to see him. He doesn’t look like the Simon you remember right now. He was crushed under some rubble,” you gasped and interrupted his speech before he squeezed your shoulders. “He’ll be okay, birdie. He just needs time.” 
John pushed open the door to Simon’s room and you gasped as the form of him came into view. He was bruised everywhere. The blood pooling under his skin as his chest lay wrapped tightly from being opened to reset bones. His leg was wrapped up in a cast, propped up on some pillows and you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. 
Stumbling to his side, you pulled a chair up next to the bed and curled up on the seat, resolute in not leaving. You took his battered hand in yours and gently drug your fingertips over the ragged skin. “Si, oh god, I miss you. I know they say you’ll be okay, but this is all my fault,” you muttered through tears as they ran freely down your face. 
A hand came to rest on your shoulder which brought your attention to the other man in the room. John squatted down so he was at eye level with you. “In no way is this your fault. This is the consequences of our actions, not yours. Karma, if you will,” he reassured you, an edge to his voice as he grumbled the last sentence. You didn’t respond, just turned back to face Simon.
With a sigh, John stood and pressed a long kiss to the top of your head before stepping back. He was relieved that you, Johnny and Kyle were okay. But until Simon woke, he knew the entire group would be thrown off. 
Tumblr media
Simon couldn’t see much, a burlap sack covering his eyes. Light peaked through the holes in the fabric, illuminating shapes in the room. There was someone across from him, mimicking his position. Tied to a chair, slumped in the seat while the sounds of whimpers floating to his ears. 
Your whimpers. He growled low in his throat, yanking on his bindings. “Get your hands off her!” he bellowed, keeping his panic and worry in a tidy little box and letting his anger rage on the surface. He yanked at his bindings again when the hood was removed and he blinked away the sudden light. 
“O-ho! Look who finally woke up, precious. Just in time to watch me slice you into shreds,” his captor jovially exclaimed, clapping Simon on the shoulder. Simon, no, Ghost’s teeth snapped at the hand as he finally got his bearings and the face of Darin Moses filtered into his view. 
Beady eyes smiled down at him as Moses moved over to where you sat, crying through the swelling of your eye. The glint of a knife blinded Simon for a moment before your scream met his ears. The knife sliced into the top of your thigh, blood immediately beginning to soak the fabric of your pants. Over and over and over. Slice and scream. 
“Si, oh god, I miss you. I know they say you’ll be okay, but this is all my fault.”
Where was your voice coming from? Your fault? No, luv, it’s not your fault. His. His fault. Didn’t protect you well enough. Shouldn’t have left you alone. 
Slice and scream. Over and over and over until everything went black.
It was the same. Burlap sack. Blinking away the light. Your beaten face. This time General Shepherd stood over you. 
Slice and Scream. Over and over and over. 
Again. Burlap sack. Blinking away the light. Your beaten face. Phillip Graves slicing away at your skin. 
Slice and scream. Over and over and over. 
“Simon, please, get better. The doctors are going to wake you up soon. I’ll be right here, my love.” 
Slice and scream. Slice and scream. Slice and scream.
Tumblr media
I'm not sure how many more parts there will be of this fic, but we're getting close to the end.
Thank you for all of the support on this fic!
Tumblr media
30 notes · View notes