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trippinsorrows · 2 months

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looking through your eyes + seven

authors notes: so this one leaves probably more questions than answers, but there's also a lot of things sprinkled throughout, and all questions will be answered....eventually.

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: fluff, language, discussion of parental loss, brief (two line) flashback of aftermatch following csa, suggestive themes, ptsd trigger

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 8k

Solana: Are you busy today?

Normally, Roman would keep his phone face down during business meetings but with increasing communication with Solana, he’s leaned more on the side of having it face up so he’s aware when notifications come through.

It’s not a priority. Just a…..preference.

Grabbing his phone, he quickly shoots her back a text.

Roman: What do you need?

Before he can put his phone back down, those three dots appear. He keeps the thread open for her reply to slide in.

Solana: Nvm. I’m sorry to bother you.

Roman curses inwardly, barely keeping it to himself and not making the room of men aware of his frustrations. He can acknowledge Solana has slightly improved with her over–apologizing over the past couple weeks, but it’s moments like this that get him upset all over again.

He fucking hates repeating himself.

But….

There’s that small, annoying ass, nagging voice in the back of his head that reminds him of why she’s always so apologetic, why she thinks her damn existence itself is an inconvenience. And he can’t really fault her, blame her for years of trauma fucking with her mental.

Roman: You’re apologizing again. How many times I gotta tell you to stop that shit?

It could probably, definitely, be worded better. Maybe even a bit…kinder. But Roman is a lot of things.

Kind is not one of them.

He then adds, knowing she’ll probably try to find another excuse to not be honest with him.

Roman: What do you need? The truth, Solana.

There’s an appearance and disappearance of those dots at least three or four times. He can picture her biting down on her bottom lip as she tries to word what probably is a simple request as best she can.

The amount of overthinking she does has to be fucking exhausting.

Solana: I was just gonna see if you could meet me at the library. I wanted to show you something.

Solana: But, it’s not a big deal! Please forget I said anything.

A couple of things strike Roman strange, two in particular. The first being that as soon as she says what she needs, the answer is an automatic yes. Like, it’s not even something he really thinks too much about, but he also chalks it up to a level of genuine curiosity. This might be the first time she’s actually directly asked him for something.

It must be important. Important enough for her to ask him to come see whatever it is, at least.

It’s why he doesn’t even comment on her second, follow up text.

Roman: What time you get off?

He can make whatever work.

Solana: It’s okay. Really.

This damn girl….

Roman’s jaw clench as he types out a text that matches his mood.

Roman: Solana….

She’s giving him a damn migraine. He’s not sure why he doesn’t just ignore her at this point. If it’s that fucking important, she wouldn’t be giving him such a hard time.

But then the stupid nagging voice returns, reminding him that her even asking in the first place is a huge deal that shouldn’t necessarily be shot down because of lingering struggles that are probably going to be around for a while.

Solana literally has years of baggage and trauma she needs to heal from.

And that shit doesn’t happen overnight.

Solana: 3pm

Roman blows out a breath. Fucking finally.

He lays his phone back down, not necessarily wanting to hear any pushback or counter arguments she might try to supply, fake ass reasons she wants to back away from her assertive request.

Not happening.

Roman: I’ll be there.

“Jey.” Roman’s deep voice cuts through the group who set their eyes on him. “I need you and Jimmy to handle the Barrett meeting for me.” While the twins are annoying as shit majority of the time, they’re effective all of the time. Roman has trusted countless meetings with them, and none have turned out badly. They always get shit handled.

His cousins both echo okayness with this change in plans, as expected. The same way Roman expected his Wise Man to be the one with questions.

“My Tribal Chief, we’ve had this meeting scheduled for weeks. What could possibly be more important?”

It’s a fair question, Roman isn’t too stubborn to admit that. But, it’s also not a question that applies. Again, it’s not that Solana is important, per se, it’s just that if his alternative is dealing with Barret’s loquacious business dealings, he’d prefer Solana.

He’s also partially intrigued by the mere fact she’d even had the balls to ask something of him in the first place. It’s promising. Assertiveness has always been more attractive to him than passiveness.

Roman’s answer is both simple and vague. “I have somewhere to be.”

“But—”

“Wise Man.”

Paul’s childlike smile deepens suddenly, as if he’s been picked to be fucking line leader. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“Who’s the Tribal Chief?”

Rikishi is the only one to offer a visible reaction, hiding his chuckle. He knows exactly where this is going, even if his decades old friend does not.

“Y–you are, my Tribal Chief.”

Romans voice is sharp and lethal. “So why the fuck are you asking me to answer to you?”

Paul’s expression pales. “I would never, my—”

“Sound like it to me,” Jimmy’s messy ass chimes in. He looks at Jey. “What you think, Uce?”

“Sound like it to me too.” Jey, as expected, agrees. Only for him to nearly fall back in his seat when he jumps up so both feet are on the expensive ass leather. Roman is annoyed all over again for a new reason. “Ayo, Uce, ya’ll got a rat problem!”

At that, Jimmy is twinning with his brother in more than just appearance, also with his feet off the floor and onto the leather chair. Roman hopes they both fall over and break their goddamn necks. Rikishi can handle Barrett just fine.

“Ain’t you like a goddamn billionaire? How the hell you got Stuart Little and his fam running around your crib!”

Roman’s gaze follows the line of vision the twins are so damn focused on only to be met with Dulce calmly walking past both of them to sit in front of him, looking up with a tilted head.

She’s clearly looking for Solana.

And he knows this because it’s become a bit of a habit. If he’s home and she’s not, Dulce’s nosy ass seems to seek him out as if he’s supposed to magically make her owner appear. It’s not something he’s brought up to Solana, because he knows she would just freak the fuck out and over apologize for Dulce “bothering” him.

And that’s not the case.

It’s a bit annoying, but it’s not a bother.

His staff keep an eye out for her when Solana works, and he’s even seen Solana come back to the house on her lunch breaks to check in Dulce, so he doesn’t mind. She’s keeping up her end of the deal, being the primary caretaker for the puppy.

“That’s Solana’s dog.”

Jimmy’s bewildered gaze is on him. “This a dog?”

“Yes.”

“You let her get a dog? Like a real ass dog?”

“You fucking see her, don’t you?” At that moment, Dulce calmly lays down on the floor next to Roman’s feet which are literally bigger than her small ass. It’s followed up by Paul starting to sneeze.

Jey, who is now sitting back in his chair like a normal human being, points out, “man, you hate dogs.”

Naturally, Roman goes a bit on the defense, shoulders straightening. “I don’t hate them.”

Jimmy makes a sound, also with his feet planted on the ground. “Bruh, you literally use to tell us when we was growing up, ‘I hate dogs.’ That’s why we started calling you Big Dog, cause it was funny to see you get all mad and shit.”

Roman may or may not remember that, but it doesn’t mean he’s going to acknowledge it. Besides, he’s allowed to change his mind. Hate was always probably too strong of a word to use anyway.

There are a lot of things Roman hates, even more people that he hates, but dogs are not on the list.

It was more irritation than anything.

“Whatever.”

“What’s her name?” Rikishi asks, bending over his chair to try to catch Dulce’s attention.

Roman watches the puppy gradually make her way over his cousin, ears dropping as he gently rubs the top of her head. “Dulce.”

“Dul–what?”

This…..this is why Roman is on high blood pressure medication, why Dr. Michaels recommended he start wearing one of those smart watches to monitor his heart rate and other shit. Not that he did it.

“Dulce. It’s Spanish.”

“Aw man, why you ain’t say that in the beginning?” Jimmy turns to Jey. “The dog only speak Spanish.” He looks over at his dad who now has Dulce in his lap, continuing to pet her. Roman rolls his eyes. This dog is a damn attention whore, just like he predicted. “Hola, lil’ chalupa.”

Jey punches his brother on the arm. “Uce, you can’t be saying that kind of shit. It’s racist.”

“No, it’d be racist if I called the dog Taco Bell since her mama half Mexican, but I ain’t do that shit, cause I like Soso.”

“Stop calling her that.”

Jimmy avoids Roman’s warning and proceeds to ask with all of the intrigue. “So not only did you let her bring a dog up in here, but you let ole’ girl pick a rat for said dog?”

Already irritated and on edge, Roman isn’t sure why Jimmy’s question irritates him as much as it does, and not even because it's a question that’s being posed when he’s trying to review a contract. It’s that Jimmy is questioning Solana’s decision in general.

He answers as calmly as he’s capable of responding. Roman also notices that Paul is red as a tomato as he pulls out an Epipen. Roman easily brings his focus back to Jimmy. “It’s what she wanted.”

“Should have got a big dog,” Jey suggests, hovering over by Rikishi as he tries to interact with Dulce whose eyes are fluttering closed. Roman swears this damn dog sleeps 23 out of the 24 hours in the day.

That answer is simple, Roman grabbing a pen to sign off on the contract in front of him. It’s satisfactory enough. “She’s scared of them.”

“What is she not scared of?”

But that comment, for whatever reason, is what makes him snap. “Get out.”

Both the twins are unfazed, but it seems to trigger something for them as Jimmy exclaims, “I forgot!” He looks over at Jey, reminding. “Remember, Soso made some extra food for us.”

“Oh shit, she sho’ did!”

Roman makes a mental note to write Solana about that. It’s not her job to keep feeding his grown ass, married ass cousins.

The two bid their farewell, Jey shouting out as his parting term, “yeet!”

“Stop doing that,” Roman calls after their retreating forms as Paul also excuses himself for some air.

Maybe he really is allergic to dogs.

Rikishi stands up and walks over to him, still holding Dulce but not saying anything. He’s just looking like he wants to say something. Another of Roman’s pet peeves, of the many.

With a mutter and scowl, he asks, “what?”

His cousin simply shrugs, nonchalantly commenting. “The girl is growing on you, Uce.” It’s an assessment, for certain.

However, Roman has zero desire to have this conversation with his older cousin, or anyone, in general. Hence, his vague ass reply of, “she’s tolerable.”

Because that’s the truth. Solana is neither amazing nor insufferable. She’s in a pretty balanced space between the both: tolerable.

Rikishi gives him that sly ass look that makes Roman want to punch him in his fucking face. “E tua le fale tele i le faleo’ o.”

It’s an old Samoan proverb that means “Even the mighty need others.”

Instantly, Roman’s gaze is cutting. “I don’t need anyone.” He never has, and he never will.

Rikishi just offers a knowing smile, lowering Dulce back to the ground and placing a hand on Roman’s shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “Of course not, Uce. Of course not.” The older man says nothing else, just walking out, Dulce returning back to stand by Roman’s feet, head up, staring at him.

He rolls his eyes, murmuring as he gets back to work. “She’ll be home later.”

Dulce barks in response.

________

The minute Roman pulls up to Solana’s job, sees the expression on his cousin’s face, he knows something is up.

Solo may have a dangerously good poker face, but Roman invented that shit.

He got the blueprint from Roman.

Solana is sitting near the front of the building, surrounded by fucking children as she reads some basic ass book that they’re all clearly eating up based upon how they can’t seem to take their eyes off her.

Roman isn’t entirely indifferent, instantly taking note of her outfit, more colorful, less covered. It reeks of Naomi’s influence, but in a good way.

As always, she looks good, better than good.

Not wanting to interrupt, Roman motions for a few of his men to take Solo’s place as he gestures for his younger cousin to follow him.

As soon as they’re outside the building, Roman gets right into it. “You got something to say, so say it.”

Roman knows his cousin well enough to know that despite his brutal fighting abilities, the man is always careful and meticulous with his words. Unlike his hot headed older brother, Jey, Solo always thinks before he acts.

It’s why Roman doesn’t think twice about the space between the issuance of his prompt and Solo’s answer.

“You made me your enforcer for a reason, yeah?”

It’s an easy answer. “Yes.”

“You upped me in the ranks to prove myself, right? To earn my way into the inner circle?”

Roman is already bored with the conversation, but considering this is family, he throws a bone. “Yeah.”

“So just how am I supposed to do that when you got me playing babysitter to your new wife?” The turn in topics as well as increase in Solo’s volume does slightly, very slightly, take Roman by surprise. Granted, he does a masterful job, as always, hiding that surprise. “Any lower guy could do this shit. She don’t—”

“Solo.” Roman gives him that tight smile and scratches his beard, typically the last thing people see before they meet their maker. “You answer to me. You do what I say you do, and I say you’re assigned to Solana.”

Roman doesn’t know what’s in the fucking water for people to be testing him the way they are, but it’s really starting to piss him off.

Solo looks down, clearly embarrassed by this talk down but not enough to shut his mouth. “I get that, but—”

“Wasn’t she already hurt once under your watch?” Roman’s voice is razor sharp as he reminds the younger man of his failure. The memory of that fucking bruise on Solana’s wrist from her bitch of a brother returning all of those strong emotions. “I gave you a job, and you didn’t do it. She got hurt while under your protection. It’s because you’re my cousin, you're even still breathing right now. You know better than anyone I don’t accept failure.”

At that, Solo concedes, knowing good and well there is no excuse or justifiable reason. “I understand, my Tribal Chief.”

Roman does his best to chip away some of his anger at this outright disrespect as well as the memories of Solana hurt. He steps past his cousin, calling out over his shoulder. “And Solo, don’t think because you’re family I won’t put a bullet in your head for questioning me.” Out of the corner of his eye, Roman can see Solo still has his head down. “Fail me again, let her get hurt again, and I’ll put your ass six feet under.”

Roman doesn’t allow the conversation to persist beyond that, big steps taking him back to the library just in time to see the children disperse, whipping past him as Solana approaches. The wedges on her feet give her a bit more height, but he still towers over her, which is a usual experience for him.

But, it doesn’t negate the fact that she’s so damn small.

“Hi,” she greets in that familiar unsure voice, eyes darting from him to the ground. “Sorry—I mean—story time ran a bit over.”

He’s appreciative she at least caught the apologizing before he had to call it out. “It’s fine.”

She offers a tight smile and motions for him to follow her, which he does, just as his eyes follow the sway of her ass as she leads the way.

He’s starting to really enjoy seeing her in jeans.

She leads him up the stairs and in the back area he’d visited her before what seems like so long ago, finding that her bastard of a brother had manipulated her into being alone with him. The last fucking time that shit will ever happen.

She pulls a key out her back pocket and unlocks the door, informing, “I have to grab something first.”

He doesn’t say anything, just nods. It’s like she feels the need to justify every little thing she does.

Roman watches her walk over to the desk, leaning over as she grabs him something out of her bag, a notebook, the journal he first found her writing in the first time he came to see her at her place of employment.

She’s back by him, closing and locking the door. “Come on.”

Typically, if this was anyone else, Roman would have demanded to know just what the fuck was so important that caused him to have to rearrange his whole schedule. Granted, he can’t take that out on her, nor would he ever, when he’s the one who rearranged his whole schedule for her. She didn't ask him to do that shit.

He did it on his own volition for reasons unknown.

The walk to the next stop doesn’t take long at all, Solana soon sticks her key in another, unfamiliar door, opening and stepping aside but directing him to walk in.

He does as such, naturally and instantly taking in his surroundings once she hits the light switch. It’s a room obviously, a previous storage room he would guess based upon the large filing cabinet lined against the wall to the right of him. There’s also another couple pieces of furniture against that same wall, like a desk and mini bookshelf, but that’s not what immediately catches his attention.

He’s instead more interested by the remaining walls that are essentially lined with larger, white bookshelves, all filled with a combination of notebooks, books, and journals. Completely filled.

Intrigued but also confused, the latter of which is unfamiliar to him, Roman turns to Solana, asking, “what is this?”

Her cheeks redden, but she manages an answer that’s somehow not marked by as much stuttering. “There are all my journals—well,” she stops, giving a nervous laugh. “Most of them. Some are books I’ve read, and….” She walks over to a section that somehow seems different from the others, albeit lined up neatly with the rest of the items. Solana’s hand almost hesitantly feathers over the spines of the journals. At closer look, Roman can see they’re a bit dated and worn than the others. “These were my mother’s.”

Her answer surprises him, but he quickly recalls her sharing that she started writing because of her mother, because they wrote to each other.

She clears her throat and then turns back to him, sharing, “every time I finish a journal, I leave it here.”

Obviously. “Why here?”

“My mom started it. It—it was an arrangement she had with Mrs. Jensen. She worked here, and along with her pay, she arranged so she could keep her writings here and after….” Solana starts to hesitate, and Roman can see it’s because emotion is brewing. Just gently bubbling under the surface. “After she died, I kept up with it.”

Roman recognizes the sensitive nature of the subject and makes a subtle effort to change the topic on her behalf. “You’ve really written in all of these?” It’s impressive. He has to give her that. The thought of writing in general has never appealed to him, so for her to have a room full of journals she’s completed is fucking impressive.

She nods, adding sheepishly, “filled em’ up.” Solana then takes the one in her hand, lifting it a bit. “Finished this one this morning.” He watches her squeeze it into a row that’s probably already being pushed to the limit.

She’s going to run out of space eventually.

She’ll need something bigger, sooner rather than later. Roman compartmentalizes this for a later date and time to navigate.

“You keep em’ here to hide them also, don’t you?”

“They can never know what I’ve written….” She doesn’t need to say who they are. It’s more than obvious. It’d be a sure death wish. “I just—-I know you said you’d write for now and it’s been almost a month, but—but I—I figured if you knew just how important and helpful writing is to me—”

“Solana.” There’s no need for her long ass, drawn out explanation. He understands now why she wanted him to see this space, the goal behind the request. “We’ll write as long as you need it.”

He watches her shoulders drop, a sign of relief. She bites back a smile he wouldn’t be opposed at seeing. She looks even better when she’s smiling. “Thank you.”

He only nods, and Solana finds herself taking him in.

All of him.

In recent weeks, she’s discovered yet another newfound difficulty and source of anxiety for herself. And that new addition would happen to be in the form of the 6’3 man before her.

Roman has always made her nervous, for a variety of good and valid reasons, but recently, the cause of that anxiety has shifted to something else, something a bit on the unfamiliar side for her, or rather something she hasn’t really had to think about since her last disastrous relationship.

Attraction

Solana has come to terms with the fact that she’s attracted to Roman, yes, but also that she hasn’t the slightest clue of what to do about and with that said attraction.

It’s always been there, to a certain extent, but it was more dormant, something she knew was present but voiceless and nameless, almost invisible.

Now, in interacting and engaging with him more, it’s formed more defining characteristics, creating a sense of butterflies in her stomach whenever his smoldering gaze falls on her or when he says something to her, that deep, baritone voice sprouting goosebumps on the back of her neck.

It also doesn’t help that he’s indicated a couple of different times now that he also finds her attractive, or pretty, beautiful even.

That he thinks she looks good.

None of that makes sense to Solana nor can she understand why he would believe any of those things, but she would never make him out to be a liar, so it must be true, to some extent.

And therein lies the dilemma.

One of many that exist in her life.

How she’s supposed to balance attraction with fear, desire with aversion, peace with trauma. It’s all a muddled mess.

“Solana.”

“Sorry.” He only has to sigh one time for her shoulders to sulk, but instead of apologizing, she points out in a small voice. “It’s—it’s a habit.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a fucking habit to break.” His irritation is palpable, and Solana feels even smaller around him, like she’s done something wrong. “It’s not you I’m annoyed with.”

“Oh.” And that genuinely surprises her. In Solana’s experience, she’s always been the source of people’s, especially the men in her life, exasperation. But before she can step out of her comfort zone and ask him what’s wrong, he informs her of something that completely makes her emotions flip and twirl into a puddle of distress.

“Your father called for you today.” And just like that, any sense of relation and ease she’d achieved is dissipated, replaced with growing unrest. “Relax…” It’s not missed upon Solana how Roman’s tone quickly and almost easily jumps from irritated to almost soothing, like he’s trying to calm his nerves. “I told him to fuck off.”

That doesn’t make her feel any better. “He doesn’t like being told no.”

“And you think I give a fuck?” His deep voice is full of indifference and edge, but this time around, Solana knows it’s not directed towards her. He then asks, “do you want to talk to him?”

It takes her off guard. “What?”

Roman repeats himself with a surprising lack of irritation. “Do you want to talk to him?”

Solana can’t remember the last time she was asked such a question. Been given a choice. Then again, it’s happened quite a few times since her marriage to Roman, starting with Bayley asking her something as simple as how she wants her makeup done.

She doesn’t know what to make of that. Just another thing added to that mounting list of confusing and conflicting thoughts and feelings.

“If you want to, I’ll allow it.” He quickly adds the caveat. “But not without me present.”

Prior to the past couple weeks, Solana would suspect Roman’s stipulation stems from a place of possessiveness. But now….now it feels like it comes from someplace else, something so unfamiliar and foreign.

Protectiveness.

It feels like he’s being protective of her.

His proclamation from earlier returns to the forefront of her mind.

“I’m not going to let anyone lay a fucking hand on you.”

He’d also included a list of people he wouldn’t allow to do as such, including her dad and brother, which is why he clearly would only let Solana speak to her father if he’s around.

It’s just the why that has her stumped.

But, back to the question being posed, the easiest and most simple answer is no. She’d rather not be around someone who’s only ever left her hurt, emotionally and/or physically. Or allocated that task to her brother.

Not to mention the fact that the only reason he probably wants to talk to her is to discuss this nefarious plot she still refuses to allow herself to think about because it’s so inconceivable.

“Not really,” she answers after what feels like forever, “but…”

Roman picks up on her hesitation. “But?”

“Like I said, my–my father doesn’t like being denied.” And before he can protest or again reiterate his outright indifference to her father’s feelings, Solana adds in a quiet voice, “and I usually end up being the one to pay for it.”

Roman steps towards her, and before she can process what’s happening, his finger is under her chin, tugging so that her head is lifted, eyes locked with his.

His voice lowers, quietly asking, “you still don’t believe me when I say I won’t let anyone hurt you, huh?” It’s rhetorical, sure, but Solana is too focused on the fact that this man is touching her. It’s as innocent as innocent comes, but it’s still touch, something she usually hides away from like the plague. However, outside of the initial shock and borderline discomfort, Solana doesn’t jump away, doesn’t feel the need to put as much distance between them. She’s almost….almost comfortable.

“I’m going to kill them both, eventually. Fucking with them in the meanwhile only makes the outcome that much more worthwhile. But…” And the surprises keep coming, especially as he makes her aware of his intentions. “One word. All I need is one fucking word from you. That you want them gone, and it’s done. No questions asked.”

Power.

Solana wonders if this is what power feels like, the ability to say one single word and have a life be ended. How she feels about those lives belonging to her brother and father remains to be seen, but even being given such an option, such an almost promise, it’s an indescribable experience.

Roman’s brown eyes, light and contrasting everything about him that is sharp and hard, study her. “You understand me?”

Naturally, she nods against his index finger that’s under her chin, demanding maintained eye contact.

“I need words.” It’s a reminder from the infamous wedding night, something that seems so far in the rearview mirror now.

“Y–yes.”

He seems pleased by this acknowledgment, enough to pull his hand away from her, Solana trying not to make too much of the strange sensation that floats in her stomach at the absence of his touch.

Roman suddenly offers. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll up your security detail.” Before she can protest and probably apologize if she’d unintentionally indicated it wasn’t already enough, he asks, “you get off at 3 every day?”

“Essentially, y–yes.”

“I’ll start meeting you.”

The surprises just keep on coming.

Instantly, she feels bad, shaking her head. “You don’t have to—”

“Solana.” This man must get tired of having to say her name, she’s certain of that. “I’ll meet you.” He says the same thing, but this time, she knows not to push back because it’s a done thing. “Just make sure I have your updated work schedule.”

“Wh—what about Solo?”

“He’ll still be assigned to you for any other outings.” This makes her feel a little better, that he’s not entirely rearranging and inconveniencing himself for her. “You ready to go?”

Yes. No. Maybe. There’s so many different questions she has with only a select number of answers, but in this moment, she goes with the one that feels most right.

Especially with Roman reaching for her hand.

Nodding, she swallows and accepts his gesture, noticing how his large hand closes over hers, almost protectively.

“Yes.”

________

“That for me?” Solana looks up from the notebook she’s almost certain she’ll have filled and completed by the end of the month. Roman’s presence and question both catch her off-guard. She didn’t really expect to speak to him again today, especially after he already spent time with her earlier that day. She figured he’d had his maximum daily dosage.

Especially after she’d already prepared and fixed dinner for him, the two of them falling into their now routine of him eating in his office, her in the living room before she makes her way out back to the patio where she either writes or, now, plays with Dulce.

Solana shakes her head, answering softly as Roman sits on the chair opposite her. “no. It’s…”

“About your mom?”

With him now aware of the nature of some of her writing, she answers, “yeah.” Roman’s question triggers something she’s certain she intentionally never commented on because it was such a shock to her system that she really didn’t know how to respond. “When….when you said it wasn’t my fault….did—did you mean that?”

If she expected there to be delayed response or even confusion on his end, she was entirely wrong because he answers almost on the spot. “Yes. I told you, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

She’s starting to believe that.

Wetting her lips, she informs in that same small voice, “no one’s ever said that to me before.”

Xavier’s unshaven face and dark, judgmental gaze is focused on her, Solana doing her best to ignore the pain that wrecks her body, the beeping of the machines and IV’s in both her arms. The throbbing between her legs is equally scary as it is confusing. What did they do to her, and why did it hurt so much?

He pulls the cigar from his mouth, dropping and stomping it on the floor, gruff voice asking, “why didn’t you fight back?” He shakes his head, spitting at the same spot that’s littered with remnants of one of many poor habits. “You’re weak just like your mother.”

Roman’s firm voice snatches her away from spiraling too deeply in dark memories of an even darker past. She does her best to shake away any sign she was about to dissociate when he surprises her for what feels like the 10th time today, almost quietly sharing, “My mother was killed when I was ten years old.” There’s a synchronous dropping of her mouth and stomach at the exact same time. “You think that shit was my fault?”

The answer is obvious and immediate. “No. Of–of course not. You were—you were just a kid.”

While her response is borderline automatic, coming from a place of pure logic, everything else is so confusing. Roman’s mother is….dead? Not even dead but murdered when he was a child?

Just like hers.

Solana doesn’t know how to process this. It’s not until this very moment that she realizes not once has she ever considered or thought about his immediate family, like parents and even siblings. At the wedding, so many people were present, obvious family members of his, but she’s just now realizing she never considered who was who. Were they all cousins, aunts, in-laws even?

Where is the rest of his immediate family? Better yet, who makes up his immediate family? She’s aware of the twins and even his older cousin Rikishi, but is there not more?

“So were you.” She can’t tell if Roman intentionally works to redirect the focus back onto herself or if he’s unaware of the fact she’s suddenly wondering just how much about the man across from her she still knows nothing about it. “So why is it different for you?”

It’s an effective diversion and valid question that she’s never once asked herself.

“No one’s ever said that either.” Her voice is only a couple octaves above a whisper, and Solana finds herself sharing more than she’s probably ever divulged to anyone. “When I….when I’m writing, a lot of the times, I’m writing letters to my mom.” Having this conversation with anyone, let alone Roman, of all people, wasn’t on her life agenda. But, it seems like a lot of ‘nevers’ are gradually morphing into ‘actualities.’

It’s such a strange experience, too.

“Like I said, we used to write to each other, and after….after she was killed, I couldn’t find it in me to stop. I think at the beginning, I kept doing it because….because I didn’t want to accept she was gone.” The understanding and underlying emotion shifts to the surface, resulting in her quickly wiping at her eyes to keep the tears from falling. “Like I was waiting for her to write me back.” It’s not missed upon Solana how Dulce suddenly moves closer, tucking her body right up against Solana’s thigh. “And I’ve kept at it over the years, cause—she was the only person I could ever talk to.”

Roman repeats the same message he wrote to her, almost reminding her of a lifeline she’s gradually starting to realize is available for the first time in almost twenty years. “You can talk to me, Solana.”

And she is. She doesn’t know how and especially why, but she is, and as heavy as the topic is, there’s a hint of relief at finally having another living, breathing person to speak to and with about these things.

Especially…..especially someone who can maybe relate to her. “How did you do it—how did you….move past it?”

It’s not the best wording, she’s certain of that. Losing a parent. Having a parent be murdered isn’t something one gets over.

Solana knows this better than most, but Roman….he’s so composed, so together, so unbroken.

So unlike her.

His expression darkens as he answers in an eerie but calm voice. “I got my revenge, and I killed every single son of a bitch who played a role.” His delivery unsettles her a bit, but he seems to easily shift back into that almost patient tone she’s only ever heard him use….with her. “But, I’m not like you, Solana. You're innocent. My ledger bleeds red.” Solana doesn’t know what it looks or even sounds like for Roman to be uncomfortable, but his delivery in the next part definitely feels as such. “I don’t….feel things like you do. You feel everything. I feel nothing.”

She whispers. “I wish I was like that, that I didn’t feel.” Because it’s true. Because it’s how she initially started to self harm, because she wanted to feel something other than emotional pain. Even physical pain was better than the anguish that racked her every day, 24/7.

He’s quick to shut that down, to tell her the complete opposite. “No, you don’t. That would mean you’ve lost that innocence you have.”

That actually makes Solana smile, chuckle, but there’s not an ounce of humor as she shakes her head. “I–I lost my innocence a long time ago.” Stolen. It was stolen from her a long time ago is the more appropriate way to word it. Stomach a complete freaking mess, she does her best to power through her anxiety at what she’s about to tell him. “Roman…..I—”

“Ayo, Uce—”

“What!” Roman snaps, Solana jumping back away from him, hypervigilance back on high and alert. He briefly casts his gaze back in her direction, and she can almost swear she sees a speck of guilt. Like he’s apologetic for scaring her.

Jimmy, however, is unfazed by his cousin’s temper. He’s lived with it his whole life. Ain’t nothing new. “Rhodes men were on Bloodline territory—”

“What?” At that, Roman’s head snaps back in Jimmy’s direction. And Solana watches as any sign of Roman, patient and almost kind, is replaced almost instantly with that same cold, stoic demeanor that could strike fear in the heart of even the strongest man.

He stands up, hands on his hips as he moves a bit away from her. Solana also stands, fighting her urge to move closer to him.

Jimmy also presents with a seriousness she’s never seen in him, never even really knew he was capable of, to be honest. “We got three guys down. Another two critically injured.”

Roman curses, turning away, back toward Jimmy and her. He then asks, “you got a location on em’ yet?”

“Pearce should have it any minute now.”

“Good. Let’s go.” Roman nods, stepping away from Solana and in the direction of Jimmy just as Dulce walks over, clearly wanting Solana to pick her up. She must also pick up on the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

Dulce in her arms, Solana finds herself calling for Roman. “What—”

“Not now.” His dismissal is sharp and sudden. It shouldn’t hurt her feelings, because it’s obvious he’s in an entirely different zone now, but it does.

Solana sinks back into her shell of silence as Solo steps forward. “You want me—”

“Stay with Solana. She doesn't step foot outside this fucking house, you understand me?” Roman’s orders are indisputable, an almost sense of urgency in his tone. “Heighten security around the premises.”

Solana has so many questions. Just what is going on? Why is Roman so on edge all of a sudden? Who is Rhodes and why do they present such an imminent threat where Roman marches out the house, Jimmy on his heels without even a second glance at her.

It’s all so confusing.

“You need to get inside.” Solo’s equally stoic reminder, command maybe, pulls her from her thoughts. And Dulce suddenly growling at Solo definitely redirects her focus.

“Shhh. It’s just Solo,” she comforts, petting and trying to calm the puppy who quickly upgrades her growling to barking. This also confuses the mess out of Solana.

She’s not sure she’s ever seen Dulce both growl and bark at someone.

Wordlessly, she walks in the house, past Solo who she notices makes sure to lock the door behind them.

“Stay in your room," he instructs, and while she has more questions than anything, his austere tone is more than enough for her to not push back.

Dulce will just have to use the crate if she has to use the bathroom.

Without another word, Solo carries Dulce up the stairs and into her room where she lays the puppy in her bed and Solana climbs onto her.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she grabs her phone and opens up the latest group text thread she was messaging in.

Solana: Can I ask you guys something?

Their replies come in not even five minutes later.

Bayley: Of course!

Naomi: Anything.

Without allowing herself too much time to overthink it, Solana sends out the simple question.

Solana: Who or what is Rhodes?

Solana: Roman just rushed out of here after Jimmy said something about Rhodes men being on Bloodline territory. I’m not allowed to leave the mansion.

Just like the start of the conversation, the replies come in almost instantaneously.

Naomi: Fuck.

Naomi: Yes, stay put. Solo’s there with you, right?

Solana: Yes.

Solana’s anxiety is only growing. Naomi sounds just as intense as Jimmy and Roman were.

Her follow up text doesn’t do anything to help the confusion either.

Naomi: The less you know, the better. The guys will handle it.

Handle what, though? That’s what Solana really wants to know. What is the story here, and why did this Rhodes person or group have Roman so wired.

Just then, another notification comes through. From Bayley, but in their individual thread and not the group chat.

Solana switches over, reading her messages as they arrive almost back to back.

Bayley: Rhodes is a person, but…that’s a complicated story.

Bayley: And I'd feel bad telling someone else’s story, but what I can tell you is that Rhodes is Cody Rhodes, head to the Nightmare Factory, the Bloodline’s biggest opp. Tensions have been at an all time high for like two generations with countless bodies dropped on both sides. It’s always a bloodbath when they’re in the same vicinity.

Solana is regretting even asking anything in the first place. Bloodbath when they’re in the same vicinity, the same vicinity Roman is heading for as she types. Her shoulders drop, anxiety starting to shift to a new target.

Concern for his safety.

Bayley: If you’re somehow ever in a situation where someone from the Nightmare territory is around, get the hell out of dodge. They won’t hesitate to kill you, especially with you being Roman’s wife.

Bayley: Or Rollins. Seth Rollins. Especially him. Guy is fuckin’ psycho.

Solana: Rollins?

Bayley: Roman, Seth, and Cody used to be friends a long time ago, like way long ago, and it just….it went bad. Really really fucking bad, and Cody and Roman have hated each other since. Like, I don’t know if hate is even a strong enough word for how much they can’t stand each other.

Solana: But why?

Bayley never replies.

________

Roman doesn’t step back into the house until almost 4am. He feels every bit exhausted as he probably looks, more physical than anything, some mental, maybe more than he’d like to admit.

Dealing with anything Nightmare related typically has that impact on him.

Solo meets him at the door, looking as on alert as he did when Roman first saw him at the ass crack of dawn this morning.

The first thing to leave Roman’s mouth isn’t intentional as much as it is unintentional. “How was she?”

Solo motions to the marble flooring leading to the spacious living room. “She’s waiting for you.”

Roman wasn’t expecting to hear that, and he’s certain it shows in his facial expression. “What? Why? Why is she still up?”

Solo shrugs. “You’ll have to ask her. She don’t talk to me.” Which is more Solo’s preference anyway. It’s his job to protect her, not be her fucking friend. “Everything good?” Roman nods but doesn’t say anything, still stuck on the fact that Solana is still up. “Imma head out.”

Roman’s response is as distant as his expression. He doesn’t care whether Solo stays or leaves. “Alright.”

Once his enforcer is out the house, Roman sure enough finds Solana sitting on the sofa, legs crossed, notebook in her lap as she writes away.

“Solana.”

She gasps, clearly taken by surprise, but when her head lifts and her eyes land on him, she untangles her legs and moves the journal to the side. Solana walks over to him, keeping a distance that makes sense for her. “You’re back….”

“What are you still doing up? Don’t you have work in a couple hours?”

“It’s okay.” She shakes her head, adding sheepishly, “I–I don’t sleep much anyway.” He knows this well. “I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Her eyes widen as she hones in on the nasty looking cut near the middle of his hairline. “You’re hurt….”

It’s really not until she says anything that Roman remembers the only “injury” he received from tonight’s bloodbath. “It’s fine.” He then redirects the focus to the main topic at hand. “Solana, you don’t have to wait up for me.”

She ignores him, actually ignores him and instead reaches up to feel the cut that’s maybe a bit more deeper than he realized because her feather light touch brings a bit of a sting.

“You need stitches.” It doesn’t sound like a suggestion, and he realizes as such following her next surprising action. She takes his hand and leads him into the kitchen, motioning for him to sit down on the stool as she pulls out the medical kit from under the sink.

Similar to the night of WarGames, she moves in between his open legs and starts tending to his cut, meticulously and carefully stitching him up.

She says not a word, and neither does he. Truthfully, it’s more an unconscious thing than conscious, like neither knows what or if to say something. Especially considering both are currently feeling more than what they know how to properly verbalize, or verbalize at all, really.

“There….” Roman can tell when she’s done. She gently runs her fingers over her diligent work, her eyes focused on the source of her apparent concern when all he wants is for her to look at him, for her eyes to lock on him. “I think I’m—” And just as Solana goes to move away, to step back and clean up, she’s stopped.

She’s stopped, because Roman reaches for her, keeping her near him.

His hand is initially on the small of her back, and Solana has the same experience from earlier. That initial tense feeling that quickly mellows into something almost calm, almost secure.

She’s not sure she’s ever been this close to him, not since the last time she tended to his injuries, not since their wedding day, since their wedding night.

But unlike that last almost traumatic time, she’s not pummeled with anxiety, not paralyzed with fear.

It’s just the calm.

His eyes never leave her, bouncing back and forth between her eyes and lips. He then says in a low voice that’s unlike anything she’s heard from him before. “Solana….”

There’s something different about the way he says her name, something more sincere, something almost….vulnerable.

Roman suddenly has both hands on her hips, holding her, just as her nervous hand moves to lay her palm against his chest.

His eyes instantly shut at her touch. Interactions with anything regarding Rhodes have always done something to Roman emotionally, but it’s always been something he can manage relatively well. Something simple and easy. There’s nothing simple and easy about whatever the fuck is coursing through him at having her so close to him, having her touch, soft and unsure as the expression in her eyes.

She doesn’t know what to make of his eyes closing nor does she have time to consider what to make of that because an image, a flashback of a different kind of touch, a much more painful, visceral touch shoots to the forefront of her mind.

And her chest starts tightening, that fear drawing back up.

“I–I can’t.” Because as much as some part of her, albeit big or small, likes this, likes being close to him, feels safe being this close to thim, another part, much larger and much stronger, can't handle being this close to him. “I’m sorry.” Eyes watering, she breaks away, Dulce is quickly behind her, Solana reaching to hold the puppy as she dashes up the stairs.

Roman sits unsure, confused, angry. He stands up, pacing across the floor, hands up and on the side of his head before his fist slams against the refrigerator door. He curses, but not from the blow. That shit doesn’t hurt.

His reaction and frustration is directed solely toward the fact that he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s feeling right now.

The same thing Solana is struggling with as she sits on her bed, legs pulled up to her chest, silently crying into her thighs.

Both of them wondering the same exact thing:

What the hell just happened?

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!poc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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raya-hunter01 · 2 months

Text

What Are We? Pt. 1/2

What Are We?

Jey Uso X OC (Kayla)

Sefa

Roman X Jade

Jimmy X Trin

Rhea Ripley

Rating: 18+ Warning: Smut; sex, fluff, couple arguing, making up

Jey and Kayla have been friends and lovers for years. What happens when Kayla is tired of Jey asking for space instead of putting a label on what their relationship is. The script is flipped when Kayla is the one who asks for space and cuts off contact with Jey for six months, even moving out of the state.

What happens when Rhea, Bianca, and Trin invite Kayla to celebrate her birthday in Pensacola and Jey finds out? Can he finally admit he loves her or are they better off apart? This was requested by @royalkay23 thank you for being so patient and I hope you like it thus far.

Savannah, GA

“I ain’t comin’ Jey is going to be breathin’ down my neck.”

“And your ass know you gon’ fold like that chair I hit Becky with the other night,” Bianca said chuckling.

“Kayla, I need you to trust us, we have the whole weekend planned and you need this,” Jade pleaded as I sighed looking into the camera.

This was our weekly thing to do to talk on facetime once a week.

“Ya’ll I don’t know, I been trying to stay under the grid since I left Pensacola.”

“I promise we went Lowkey for your birthday this time. We got a little staycation with some activities planned and a little party. You don’t even have to go to the house show on Saturday if you don’t want too” Trin said pouting trying to make me feel guilty.

“I don’t want to see him ya’ll,” I whispered as I heard Jade fake cough muttering “bullshit” as I rolled my eyes.

Damn, she could always read me like a book.

“Jey is leaving for Atlanta; he won’t be here I promise. It’s a mini girl’s weekend celebrating your birthday,” Bianca swore as I chuckled.

It was nice they were trying to plan something nice for me, but I knew Jey. If he knew I was coming, he would be there with bells on trying to talk and I ain’t in the mood. He made his choice, and I made mine.

“Girl come on and turn up for your birthday,” Trin said making me laugh.

“Yes, let us celebrate you Kayla, let’s have some fun.” Rhea begged as I finally agreed. “Fine, I will be there but why do I have the feeling ya’ll setting me up.”

Six months earlier

Pensacola, FL

Jey's House

“So why would she show up here?” I asked as Jey wiped the sweat from his brow. “You really wanna talk about it now after we’ve just had sex.”

“Didn’t the bitch just knock on the door, trying to get in here!”

“I sent her ass away, I ain’t tryin’ to argue baby we’ve had a nice weekend together. Damn, sometimes I just wish I was single,” he said as I looked at him getting a familiar feeling.

But not this time, I was gonna get his ass first.

“Well let me help you out, I’m leaving, and you can be single and up in every piece of ass you see fit to be in.” I said pulling away from him.

“Kayla, I didn’t mean-”

“I can’t believe I feel for it again,” I hissed getting up putting my shirt back on. “Come on Kayla don’t go,” Jey pleaded as I searched for my skirt. “No, I need to go because once again you want to play games, Jey,” I said as he got out of bed trying to stop me from leaving.

“I didn’t tell her to come by, Kayla,” Jey said as I scurried around the room gathering clothing in my hands. His ex had just come by and had given this song and dance about wanting him back. Now I never met her, but I’m pissed because she’s the reason he can’t commit.

She also worked for the WWE as well which made it worse that he saw her a lot at work.

“Kayla, please can we just talk about this,” Jey pleaded as I shook my head putting on my shoes.

“Why? I know the drill; she is fucking with your head and now you’re not sure what we are all of a sudden and now you want space.”

“I don’t want to make it complicated Kayla, I been through some fucked up shit.”

“We’ve been sleeping together for years Jey; we are past complicated now. Every time we get close to putting a name on it you freak out or something happens that makes you question us.”

“So, you just gon’ leave now. Kay, I don’t want you to go,” Jey pleaded as I pushed him away.

“I ain’t getting back in bed with a man who doesn’t see himself being in a relationship with me.” I was tired and just wanted to go home. This was the last time I was falling for this bullshit.

“Kayla, I need you to understand-”

“Oh I understand, you like me but not enough to be in a relationship with me?"

“I never said that bae.”

“Your actions show me that you want me to share my body with you, do couple things such as have sex, go on dates, be there for you when you’re going through shit but you don’t want to be in a relationship with me?”

“Ok, that sounds shitty-”

“Because it is shitty Jey, but you ain’t gotta worry about it no more. I want you have a nice life and I hope you find what you’re looking for. Storming out of the bedroom.

“Kay, don’t do this-”

“Do what? Choose myself? Stop being your fuckin’ toy that you pick up off the shelf and play with when you get bored of other bitches?!” I screamed as Jey grabbed me by the arms stopping my rant, making me look at him.

“OK, dat’s it GOTDAMNIT!” The anger radiating off him seeping into me as well. Hell, I was pissed and fed up.

“Let me go, Josh!” I yelled as he invaded my space making me look at him.

“You ain’t no fuckin’ toy, I lo-”

“You what Josh?!......The silence pissing me off even further.

“Speak! Damn it!”

“Look just don’t let me hear you say some shit like that ever again. You ain’t no toy I just play wit and you know it.” Jey said more calmer as I scoffed heading towards the door.

“Don’t come by my house because I won’t be there, and don’t call my mom either. I just need some space Josh.”

The shock and look of disbelief on his face would have made me laugh if it wasn’t so sad. Throwing his words back at him had struck a nerve and knew it.

“Kay, you don’t mean that let’s just talk-”

“Never expected to hear those words from me, did you? Well, Josh I think we need some space from each other.”

And with that I slammed the door not only Jey but whatever we were to each other.

"Damn, we been through so shit." Thinking about that day was the last thing I wanted but the memory always came flooding back at the wrong time.

It took a lot of strength to walk away, but when you tired, you tired.I loved him and I knew he loved me, but I had to choose myself in that moment.

I only wished he had fought for me, and let me knew everything would be ok, but he didn’t and now six long months had passed.

The girls were right, I needed a break. I was going to enjoy my birthday and celebrate.

Maybe I wouldn’t run into Jey after all and if I did, don’t let me fold.

---

One Week Later

Pensacola, FL

Fusion R&B Club

Jey’s POV

“Man, I thought you was restin’ what you doin’ here?” Roman asked as I rolled my eyes. “Ya’ll ain’t slick I know Kayla flew in for her birthday and I just wanna see her.”

“Man let that girl have fun tonight, she just touched down two hours ago and you already trying to start.” Jimmy accused as I tried to find Kayla on the dance floor.

“I ain’t starting shit, she the one that left me six months ago.” I hissed still very angry even though I know I was to blame.

“She had a reason, look just get at her in the morning and let her enjoy the night,” Sefa said as I ignored him taking a seat. “I won’t bother her tonight, I just wanna make sure she good.”

“You are so full of shit, don’t ruin her night, or I will kill you." Roman's tone was stern but I ain’t scared of his ass, I’m here to see Kayla.

Throughout the night I managed to keep a low profile just watching Kayla from afar. It definetly put things even more into prospective.

Men desired her and they weren’t trying to hide it at all. Seeing Tama and his brother watching the girls VIP table more than the dance floor was pissing me off.

“I’m bout to flip all this shit over, if he looks at her one more time,” I hissed seeing Tama and his brother whispering and pointing at Kayla…My Kayla.

“Man, let them women do they thing, it’s cool,” Sefa said as I sat seething.

“That shit, easy for you to say. Your girl ain’t up there buckin’ like a mechanical bull in the VIP section,” I said looking at Kayla with her hands on the table, her ass bouncing from side to side as I subconsciously I gripped my dick…

Man, she just asking for it, and when I give it to her, she betta ride dis dick just like that too.

I swear I ain’t never been so thankful she had on jeans in my life but dat ass was thangin’ and looking extra fat as she shook her hips bouncing on her hands as Trin and Bianca cheered her on.

“Damn, you had it like that, and you fucked it up,” Sefa said as I shot him a look, he was enjoying my misery a little too much. I was about to knock that smile off his damn face.

“I ain’t fucked up shit, Kayla’s still mine. We just fall in and out from time to time.”

“Ain’t you tired of dat, Uce? You know you love her, gone make dat shit official twin.”

"I done told his ass, keep on letting her walk around this bitch single if you want to,” Roman said as I sighed knowing he was right.

“Beautiful and single at that,” Jimmy added, nudging me as I rolled my eyes.

“She ain’t fuckin’ single, we just takin a break trying to figure some shit out.”

“Aye! Buckin’, buckin' like a mechanical bull! You betta buck Kaydoll!” Trin yelled taping Kayla on her phone as I looked back at Jimmy.

“See, that’s what I’m talkin’ bout, yo' wife always instigating shit, probably on Instagram live right damn now broadcasting Kayla’s ass,” I hissed as he laughed.

“Hey, no face, no case.”

“Man fuck you.”

“But let’s be real twin, you always doin’ stupid shit and being indecisive about your feeling for her. Look it took a lot of convincing to get her out here for her birthday. The girls got a little staycation and party planned for her so stay outta the way,” Jimmy said as I frowned.

A party? Staycation? Really, and ain’t nobody told me shit. They really were gonna let me fly home to Atlanta and not tell me nothing.

“I ain’t being indecisive about shit. Kayla knows what the deal is and how we get down. But the real question, how come ya’ll ain’t told me about all these plans? Ya’ll know I been wanting to see her,” I said as Roman sighed.

“The girls said you weren’t invited, and ain’t you flying back to Atlanta tomorrow,” he said shrugging his shoulders as I saw Tama approaching Kayla in their VIP section with a drink.

“I ain’t going no fuckin’ where..I like to party just like the rest of ya’ll.” I said snarling at the fact this clown was up on my woman.

“Aye, I am so serious right now, you cockblock any of us this weekend with yo bullshit, I’mma beat yo ass,” Sefa said as I saw Tama lean over and try to whisper something to Kayla, but she moved away giving him a polite smile, keeping him at arm’s length.

“I’ll be back,” I said standing up as Jimmy tried to grab my arm but I snatched away from him.

“Man, Uce, chill out they just talkin’” Jimmy said as I ignored him making my way toward the girls VIP section. He ain’t got no fuckin’ reason talkin’ to her, that’s the damn point of the matter. Motherfucka know what time it is.

“Jey, what you are doing here?” Rhea asked blocking my path before I got to their VIP section as I frowned.

“I’m trying to talk to my girl, could you move please so I can go up there.”

“Oh, now she yo’ girl but for years you ain’t wanna put a label on it.” Bianca said rolling her eyes as I sighed. “Bee you know me..You my sister and you know I love her. I just have a hard time voicing that shit.”

“So, what you want us to do?”

“First of all move so I can go up there and break that shit up,” I said pointing at Kayla and Tama as Rhea smirked.

“Not on your life, Kayla can handle herself and she seems to like his company,” Jade said pointing at Kayla laughing at something Tama said.

“Look, you gonna only make it hard for yourself if you come up here acting a fool,” Rhea warned, but all I saw was red seeing him push up on her. The final straw was his leading her out of the VIP to the dance floor.

“I love ya’ll but please move, I need to get my girl.”

“Fine, go ahead and dig a deeper hole we can’t help you get out of,” Bianca said making the girls move.

“Fine I will,” I said stalking towards Kayla and Tama, but Sefa jumped in front of me. “Think about what you about to do.”

“I’m bout to talk to my woman and it ain’t got shit to do wit ya’ll secretive asses.”

“We did what we had to do for Kay and we ain’t sayin’ sorry for that. So, you can scratch your ass and get glad.”

Scanning the dance floor, I didn’t see Kayla nor Tama. I had lost them.

“Where the fuck did they go?! look what you did, ya’ll fuckin’ pissin’ me off now”. I hissed as Sefa rolled his eyes.

Where the fuck did they go? Searching the room, I sighed in relief seeing Kayla go in the restroom and Tama talking to his brother by the exit.

“I know she ain’t planning to leave wit him.”

“Leave it alone, Uce,” Sefa pleaded as I rolled my eyes making my way towards Tama and his brother Tonga.

“Hey, Jey what’s up wit you?” Tama asked as I tried to keep my cool.

“Oh, nothing just coming to talk to Kayla.”

Kayla’s POV

“Yes, relief,” I mumbled washing my hands. I had been having a great time. Tama seemed nice, and consoderate. When I told him I didn’t know where the bathroom was he offered to take me.

“You gon stay away from her is what you gon’ do or I’mma break every bone in your fuckin’ body.”

Hearing the familiar voice and commotion I went towards the door in shock. "I know it isn't?"

“Jey, she’s a big girl and can do what she wants. I bought her a drink and offered to show her where the restroom was, that’s all.”

“Stay away from her, that’s the only warning you getting.”

“I didn’t know she was spoken for Jey, but it’s cool.”

“You a bitch ass lie!”

Opening the door, Jey quickly ushered me back inside locking the door behind him.

“Are you carzy?!” I hissed as Tama pounded on the door.

“Hey, let me in. Are you good in there, Kayla?!” He shouted as Jey rolled his eyes.

“Tell lover boy you good, and to take his ass on somewhere.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,Jey. Why the hell are you even here?”

“Aye, it don’t matter to me, he can stay and listen to me fuck some sense into you for all I care.” Jey said without shame as I scoffed.

“Tama, I’m ok....I’ll call you later,” I said for good measure to piss Jey off knowing good and hell well I didn’t have his number.

“I’ll hopefully see you before the weekend is over Kayla.”

“You won’t be seeing her again, bye.” Jey hissed at the door as I threw my head back in frustration and screamed.

“You just so damn confusing, you don’t want a relationship, but you don’t want men talkin’ to me. Make it make sense, Jey.”

“He wasn’t talkin! He was wanting to get wit you, he been watchin’ you all fuckin' night!”

“Ok AND!! I’m not with you, what do you want from me Jey?! This off and on shit is getting old,” I said as he stopped me from walking past him, pulling me close as I avoided his gaze.

“Kayla, you already know I don’t share what’s mine and stop calling me Jey," he whispered as I growled in frustration, somewhat turned on.

Kayla keep your legs closed, don’t do it.

Jey’s POV

I didn’t want our first conversation to go this way, but Tama had pissed me off. Her dancing like she didn’t have a care pissed me off. Men looking at her pissed me off. My own stupidity of letting her walk out of my house that day pissed me off.

“What did you just say?”

“You heard me Kayla, I don’t share what’s mine and your mine.” I said boldly.

“Oh, so now I’m yours,” Kayla said sarcastically, pissing me off even more. She knows she’s mine and it was time to remind her.

“They sniffin’ round you cause’ they know what the deal is,” I said blocking Kayla from leaving, backed her up against the door.

“Jey, what exactly is the de-” my mouth swallowing her whimpers with a sloppy passionate kiss. Six months of anger, passion, regret and most importantly love taking over us both as our tongues battled for control as if we couldn't get close enough to each other.

Rendering her into a whimpering mess, Kayla quickly pulled away trying to regain a sense of control, but I refused to let up.

I had missed her and had to let her know it wasn’t over between us no matter the time or distance we belonged to each other.

“Yea, you already know what the deal is, and how I get down stop playin’ wit me.” I growled moving my kisses to her neck, knowing her weakness.

“J-Josh I can’t.”

Her moans of pleasure driving me insane, I knew I should stop, but I couldn't.

“Yea, say my name, like you know you mine,” I groaned claiming her lips once again, as she clawed at my shirt pulling me closer. Yea, I’m nippin’ this shit in the bud tonight.

“Left me, knowin’ what you mean to me.” I groaned wrapping her legs around my waist.

“You never showed it and I’m not yours,” Kayla moaned trying to move remain strong, but I wasn’t gon’ give up that easy. Grinding against her pants covered center, she gasped instinctively rolling her hips against mine.

“Fuck,” Kayla gasp as I moaned in agreement, burying my face in her neck. It had been too long, our pleasure short lived as Kayla pushed at my shoulders when a loud knock startled us.

“Let me down, Jey.” she pleaded as I placed her back on her feet but still held her in my arms, ignoring whoever was trying to come in.

“Your mind is mine,” I moaned making her look at me before I kissed her tenderly on the forehead. “Jey, stop,” she pleaded as I moved my attention to her now plump lips. Gently nipping at them before once again tasting them, in a deep kiss startling us both of its power.

“Your lips are mine.” I rasped.

My own heart racing as I kissed alongside her neck. “Yours,” she moaned as a primal growl escaped my lips, her acceptance of our fate turning me on even more.

Grasping her hand within mine and placing it over her heart. “Your heart is mine,” I whispered before placing our conjoined hands over my own heart as Kayla looked at me with confusion.

“And my heart is your, Kayla.”

“What are you sayin’?”

“I’m tired of fighting how I feel Kayla, I want to be with you, and I want you to be my mine.” Another knock at the door disrupting us again before she could respond.

“Open the door Jey, folks out here need to get in the bathroom. They threatenin' to call security,” Jimmy said as Kayla wiped her tears. “Two minutes Twin!" I shouted as Kayla shook her head smoothing down her clothes and her hair.

“No, we’re coming out now Jimmy.”

“Kayla, please just hear me out, Ma. We can go to my room and talk or least let me give you ride to where ya'll stayin'."

“No, talk to me when your sober and not saying what you want me to hear because you saw someone take an interest in me.” Kayla said unlocking the door, storming past Jimmy and out of the club with Rhea and Jade right on her heels.

“I told yo’ ass but you wouldn’t listen to none of us. Now you in a bigger mess.”

“Twin, not right now.”

I had to find Kayla, it was so much I had to tell her. Heading outside I saw her hugging Rhea.

“Look, I don’t know what you did in there, but she is a mess. Meet me at our breakfast spot in the morning at 8 am. Don’t be late Jey.” Bianca’s intense stare daring me to be late tomorrow.

“I’ll be there, sis.”

“You just couldn’t resist makin’ an ass out yourself, could you?” Roman asked walking towards me as I shot him a look and Bianca shook her head before walking off.

“Man, I’m out, I’ll see ya’ll sometime tomorrow.” “So you were serious about not leaving for Atlanta tomorrow. You acted like this morning you had some much to do before we head back out on the road.” Sefa throwing my words back up in my face irking me to no end.

“Plans change, I asked to be added me to the house show for tomorrow anyway. Plus, my home is wherever Kayla is and I ain’t leavin’ Pensacola without my girl. So, get ready to see me all weekend fam.”

“Just know when to back off twin, we all hope you and Kay can work it out but don’t come on too strong.”

“Jimmy, I can’t let her go back to Savannah not knowing how I feel.”

A’ight, we know and we got your back.”

I wasn’t going to come on too strong, but I definitely was getting Kayla back one way or another.

---

The Next Morning

Blaster’s Cafe

Bianca’s POV

Jade and I decided to come hear Jey out and see where his head is at. I can honestly say he’s done a lot of growing up these last six months but Jade was still on the fence Kayla is her cousin

“How do we know mean it? You could be just sayin’ what we all wanna hear,” Jade accused as Jey seemed so defeated.

“Jade, I know I fucked up, but the time apart made me realize part of me was missing. I Love Kayla, it’s time I took a chance.”

“She was so broken, thinking you guys were on the right track and then her comes Cameron once again and you didn’t do nothing to stop the disrespect,” I said throwing in my two cents, but Jade was hitting it home.

My cousin got tired, Jey. She wants to be married, have kids and have a partner who isn’t going to change his mind and has no problem being committed to her and her alone.”

“Jade, I’ve never changed my mind when it came to Kayla, I just had a lot of shit going on and you know that Bee.” Jey said pointing at me as I sighed sitting down my cup of coffee.

“I know but it’s been five years since Carmen, Jey. But you and I both know Kayla would never do what she did to you. She helped you get through it and saw what it did to you.”

“I know Bee.”

“Then I’mma need you to act like it bro. Stop letting her come in and make you second guess yourself.”

Jey’s POV

“Ya’ll have known each since ya’ll were teenagers, Jey. Name one time Kayla ain’t been there as your friend, or lover. Like people get tired of the back in forth and people not seeing their worth.” Jade scolded as I rubbed my temples feeling a headache coming on.

It was too early for this conversation, but they were right. I felt even more like shit remembering the times Kayla and I would be so close to putting a label on what we were. Then almost like clockwork, I’d get scared, push her away and say I needed space.

I was runnin’ from her love because I felt underserving, and I didn’t want to screw it up.

“Jade, I’mma be real wit you and Bee. I was scared of Kayla; I knew she was the one for me, but I was fighting it tooth and nail but I’m tired of fighting it. Kayla is it for me.” I said truthfully as Bianca nodded in understanding.

“So, what you saying? Bianca asked as I sighed knowing now was the right time to let them know my intentions especially if they are willing to help me.

“Kayla is my future; I want her to be my wife and the mother of my children someday when we’re both ready. She means everything to me, and I have no intention to leave Pensacola without her.”

“Well, if want Kayla to be all those things, are you going to keep livin’ in the past?” Jade asked refusing to make it easy on me.

“No Jade, I love Kay-”

“Good, because if you were, there is no future between ya’ll and you might as well leave her be.” Jade said without hesitation. Damn, she was a ball buster but I’m glad Kayla her cousin looking out for her.

“I know, that’s why I’m here. I love Kayla, I always have. I know I took her for granted but I never will again,” I said pleading my case as Bianca looked at me with a small smile before looking back at Jade who finally nodded.

“Fine, we will help you but don’t make us regret this,” Bianca said reaching into her bag pulling out a piece of paper and giving it to me.

“This is our schedule and addresses of everywhere we will be this weekend. We are having her little dinner party after the house show Tomorrow at the Westview. Come dressed and ready to plead your case.”

“If you leave now, you might be able to catch her before they leave the rental we’re staying at. Rhea just text me and said they about to eat before they head out. We’re going to meet them at the boat," Jade said as I smiled.

“I love ya’ll so much,” I said leaning over and giving them a hug before getting up to leave.

“Good luck, bro!” Bianca yelled as tore out of the cafe.

She did say talk to her when I was sober. Getting in the car I texted Rhea to let her know I was coming and to not leave.

Traffic wasn’t too bad, but I was getting stuck by every red light. “Damn, come on…Please still be there,” I mumbled finally pulling the driveway of their rental sighing in relief seeing their van rental still there.

“Good lookin’ out Rhea.” I whispered getting out, seeing her come out on the porch alone.

“She’s upstairs putting her shoes on; I’m going to wait in the van. Don’t upset her, I want her to enjoy this weeken. I don’t want to go to jail for killing you.”

“Rhea, I’m not, I promise,” I said giving her a hug before going inside nervously waiting for her to come down.

“Rhea, I changed my shoes like you said, but can you at least give me a hint about where we are going?” Kayla rambled coming down the steps.

“Good morning, Kay.”

“What are you doing here, Jey?” she asked coming towards me but looking out the window.

“Rhea ain’t left you, she’s just waiting in the car. I just wanted to talk, you did tell me to talk to you when I was sober.” I said shrugging my shoulders trying to lighten the mood.

“Yes, I did, but I didn’t mean now,” she said nervously shuffling her feet.

“I want to apologize, you were right. It wasn’t fair to you how I would always push you away.” I paused waiting for the anger from her, but it never came, she was actually listening to me.

“Truth is I wasn’t drunk last night, and I meant what I said. My heart does belong to you.”

“Can you wrap this up Jey, because I got somewhere to go.” Kayla said getting irritated.

“I’m tryin’ to tell you that I love you, and I want us to be together Kayla. I promise it will be different, these six months without you I been a mess. Just ask everybody, I really missed you.”

“Yea, until Cameron comes around with her drama, and you begin to doubt what we are to each other. You never even tried to find me Jey.”

“Kayla, I know you live in Savannah, I found out where you went the day you left. I even moved to Atlanta to be close to you so if anything happened, I could get to you.”

“But why didn’t you come to see me, and tell me how you felt? It’s been six months Jey.”

“Kayla I was scared as fuck. I mean for the first time ever, you had just told me you wanted space from me. You were hurt and fed up and I understood it. Just looking in your eyes that night, I knew any wrong word or move would have caused you to walk out of my life forever.

“Josh-”

“Just listen to me please,” I pleaded as Kayla nodded her head and folded her arms, trying to keep her tears at bay.

“I didn’t want to lose you, so I wanted to give you some time, like you always gave me. You ain’t never asked me for nothin’ Kayla, so the one thing you asked me for I was going to give you even though it killed me to do it.”

“Did it dawn on you that maybe just once I wanted you to fight for me, Josh. Fight for us and show you understood where I was coming from and that I wasn't in this alone.”

“Kayla, I know I made it hard for you to love me-”

“No, I let you talk, now let me finish. Josh, I wanted you to show me what I mean to you instead of me always trying to make you see that I love you and that you love me.”

“I do love you and want to be wit you Kayla."

"Then prove it, stop letting the past control your future!” Kayla cried as I reached out to touch her but she side steped me and started toward the front door.

“Baby don’t push me away,” I begged as she wiped her tears. “I have to go, Rhea’s waiting for me.”

“Can we at least talk a little more at the house show tomorrow?” I asked as Kara ignored me, hurrying outside. “Why does she have to be so fuckin' stubborn,” I muttered closing the door behind me, rushing to catch her before they left.

Y"ou alright?" Rhea asked as Kayla nodded getting in the front seat.

“Please Kayla,” I pleaded as she closes the door.

“Kayla, he’s begging."

“I’ll be around, Jey. If guess if you find me, it’s fate,” she whispered making me smile.

“Trust me, I’ll find you....I'll alway find you, because wether you know it or not, it is fate Kay Kay.” I said knowing she loved it when I called her that.

Trying her hardest not to blush, Kayla quickly put on her shades and stared straight ahead. Rhea, getting a kick out of the exchanged winked at me.

“We’ll see you, Jey.”

“Yea, count on it Rhea, I’ll be seeing ya'll.”

I felt I was making a little headway, but I had a long way to go. Heading back to the car I called Sefa.

"Well I see you still alive Bianca and Jade didn't kill you, yet."

Yea, I lived to tell the tale. Sefa, I need you to get in contact with that florist that did those roses for mom a couple years ago."

“Which one?”

“The one that does the big bouquet of roses, I need them done by tomorrow and I want them gold. If they don't have gold, red will do."

“Jey, what you up too now?”

“I’m getting my woman back, now are you gon’ help me or not.”

“I’ll see can they have the red done for you to pick up before the show.”

Thanks, bro, I appreciated it. I owe you one."

“You welcome, just make this opportunity count."

“Oh, I'm plannin' on it.”

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coochiequeens · 2 months

Text

There's something satisfying about when an abusive man is called out by other men. Or at least one man.

Rest In Infamy, You Haunted Castle

Why I believe the Neil Gaiman accusations

By GRAHAM LINEHAN JUL 19, 2024

I only met Neil Gaiman once, at an upscale dinner party where Derren Brown had been hired to do magic tricks like in the old-timey days. Between astonishments, Gaiman and I withdrew to a quiet corner where I pretended to be pleased that he was giving me a signed copy of ‘Sandman’. One of the unexpected advantages of being cancelled is telling people who took part in my harassment what I really think about their work, but this was a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, so I said the right things and we went back to being bamboozled by Brown’s invisible craft.

To give credit where it’s due, I later read Gaiman’s ‘Coraline’ to my kids which had them simultaneously terrified and hooked, and thanked him for it. Whatever my feelings about his earlier work, he was a real writer, practising his own invisible craft. From the evidence of that book, I thought he was probably a decent person too, an impression that continued until 2022, when we started to get into it over The Issue.

I may have asked why he wasn’t speaking out on behalf of JK Rowling, who was undergoing one of her regular cancellations for refusing to pander to the spoilt brats who loved her books but missed their meaning. A big name like his might have shifted the conversation and given her some much-needed support. He might perhaps have persuaded some of his fans to give the matter another look. This was when I assumed people like him acknowledged biological reality but worried about ‘coming out of the closet’, as it were. It took me years to realise that almost every celebrity mate of mine believed, or was pretending to believe, in the fashionable, American mind-cancer of ’gender’.

But back then, I was still astonished to find that he was a carrier of the virus, the mass delusion that by sheer coincidence, turned up after the arrival of the Internet. Whether it was Bill Bailey or Neil Hannon, Robin Ince or Matt Lucas, Arthur Mathews or Jimmy Mulville, it was always the same story. A sudden cloud of amnesia would form around my celebrity mates, a real peasouper, from which they suddenly could not see why we need female-only spaces, or why unhappy teenage girls will not find a miraculous cure for their woes in a double mastectomy. Far from sharing any of my urgency in the need to stop children from being irreversibly harmed in gender clinics, they instead downplayed, deflected and dismissed. “I never ask you to join in with my animal activism” grumbled Neil Hannon on one of the occasions I begged for his support.

“Couldn’t you pretend women and children are animals?” I thought.

My usual trajectory during these conversations saw me shifting from gobsmacked disbelief to fury and despair. The disloyalty made me angry, but knowing my friends did not care about their own daughters, wives, sisters and mothers was, and continues to be, destabilising in the extreme.

Gaiman went one step further. I can’t find the tweet, so I may be paraphrasing, but he said

"I hope you're kinder if your daughter ever hopes to transition."

I can think of no uglier thing to say to a parent. For girls, ‘transition’ means double mastectomies in their teens, hysterectomies in their mid-twenties, early menopause and a four times greater chance of having a heart attack than males of the same age. To have this decaying goth wish that horror on my daughter was more than I could bear. I wanted to rip his throat out.

Like a pair of grappling cowboys falling off a rooftop, our fight spilled into email. I sent Gaiman this article about the Tavistock. It was clear when he wrote back that he hadn’t absorbed it Like most celebrities in this fight, he appeared to have lost the ability to read.

“As I said before Graham, I hope that you'd be kinder if it was one of your kids who wanted to transition. “

He actually said it again. The piece was right there, detailing exactly what was happening to the children unlucky enough to wander through the Tavistock’s doors, and he chose to repeat that disgusting thing. Why?

That same year, just months before Gaiman was advising me on the value of kindness, a 22-year-old woman (‘Scarlett’ in the podcast) arrived at his Waiheke Island home in New Zealand for a babysitting job. Upon her arrival, she discovered that Gaiman’s wife of the time, Amanda Palmer, had suddenly remembered a sleepover, an appointment the child was apparently eager to attend.

So she and junior drove out of view, leaving the 23 -year-old Scarlett alone with Gaiman for the night. Within a few hours the 61-year-old man, without warning or invitation, appeared fully naked and slipped into the other end of her bath. Scarlett alleges that over the next three weeks, they embarked on a semi-consensual relationship, where Gaiman routinely ignored the boundaries she set. She alleges that he became angry when she would refuse these demands, used a belt to beat her, insisted she call him ‘Master’ and once sexually assaulted her so violently that she lost consciousness.

“… (the sex) was so painful and so violent that I fainted. I passed out, lost consciousness, ringing in the ears, black vision, the pain was celestial, you know, which is a strange word to use, but I couldn't even describe it in language. And when I regained consciousness and I was on the ground, I looked up and he was watching the rehearsals from Scotland of whatever they were filming, I don't fucking know. And he didn't even notice that I was passed out. And you know…there was blood. It was so so, so traumatic, and I asked him to stop. I said it was too much.”

Scarlett is a compelling witness despite, or because of, her contradictions. Certain things paint a picture of consent—she sexted Gaiman, to which he would send careful replies—and she laughs nervously when she talks about the alleged abuse. But when Gaiman’s side of the story is put to her, she turns cold as a knife and shows flashes of fury that she—in her telling—young, inexperienced and dazzled by Palmer and Gaiman’s fame and lifestyle, was used so casually and so brutally.

A few years back, I wrote about becoming a sort of Jessica Fletcher figure on Twitter. ‘Murder, She Wrote” but with paedophiles and predators. “Just as murderers seemed drawn to any location Jessica presented herself, “ I said. “My opining about women's rights and safety on Twitter appeared to attract the kind of men who can't sit still during a spelling bee.”

Among my adversaries was Peter Bright, the Ars Technica writer now doing twelve years for trying to buy two children to abuse. Luckily the children didn’t exist and the parents were actually FBI agents. Our exchange was brief and concerned safeguarding. I’m sure you’re all astonished to discover that he was against it.

Then there was ex-Labour MP Eric Joyce, who argued with me about the safety of mixed-sex loos in schools and was done for possessing the worst kind of child abuse images. More recently, I tangled with ‘Lexi’, who is now serving time for rape.

They all had one thing in common. They couldn’t leave alone those of us who were actively opposing the trans movement's assault on safeguarding, an assault that chimed nicely with their plans for the future. Each was returning to the scene of a crime not yet committed, each picking at a scab on their own character.

In 2018, at the height of #MeToo, Gaiman tweeted “On a day like today it’s worth saying, I believe survivors. Men must not close their eyes and minds to what happens to women in this world. We must fight, alongside them, for them to be believed, at the ballot box, and with art, and by listening, and change this world for the better.”

Well said. I certainly believe the women in ‘Master’. During my Jessica Fletcher period (a period which continues) no-one except Gaiman ever mentioned my kids. I think he knew it would cause me distress, and the second time he said it was just a twisting of the knife. Many of my colleagues in the media joined in with the trashing of my reputation, but Gaiman went that extra mile. I believe this is because he is a sadist. I think he is a man who finds pleasure in the suffering of others, and a man who does not see women and girls as fully human.

This was my final letter to him.

Dear Neil

I notice you’re still pretending you can’t read the Tavistock story. If you ever try and lay that curse on my kids again I will certainly share our exchange. Your privileged beliefs are harming children so to paraphrase Will Smith, keep their names out of your fucking mouth.

Thank you for giving me one last chance to say that JK Rowling will be remembered as a hero and you as a traitor to the kids who loved your books.

Rest in infamy, you haunted castle.

All the best,

Graham.

#Rest In infamy neil gaiman #Graham Lineham is speaking the truth #Neil Hannon commpared campaigning for women's rights to animal activitism #Neil gaiman refused to stand up for JKRowling #Neil gaiman allegedly became angry when the 23 year o.d woman would refuse the demands of the 61 year old #Neil gaiman allegedly used a belt to beat her #Neil gaiman allegedly insisted she call him ‘Master’ and once sexually assaulted her so violently that she lost consciousness.#Peter Bright is the Ars Technica writer now doing twelve years for trying to buy two children to abuse #Ex_Labour MP Eric Joyce who argued with me about the safety of mixed-sex loos in schools possessed the worst kind of child abuse images #Neil Gaiman dragged Linehams kids into their conversations #Neil gaiman used the gender cult for his own image yet attacked two biological women

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suzukiblu · 9 months

Text

Another excerpt from the one where Tim is trans and Kon is not the father, plus a read-more for length.

“Bart’s really back too?” Tim asks, his voice not quite cracking.

“Back and also . . . okay, not the right age, but the age he was the last time I saw him,” Kon says. “Which apparently he was not for you guys for a while, what the fuck.”

“Long story,” Tim says, smiling helplessly.

“Yeah, I know, it took Bart a whole thirty seconds to explain it to me,” Kon says wryly.

“Have you seen . . . Cassie, yet?” Tim asks hesitantly, because he’s a fucking glutton for punishment, apparently. Because otherwise he’s just ignoring the elephant he coaxed into the room himself.

“No,” Kon says, shaking his head. “Bart went to go drop in on the Titans, but Clark brought me straight here. He figured I’d wanna see you and Kyra first. We had a very confusing thirty-first century conversation while he was trying to ease me into the ‘everyone knows you’re gay for your best friend’ thing and gently break the news about me being a dad, and then Bart just started talking his ear off demanding baby updates. It was, uh, interesting. I guess he died before she was born, but Clark didn’t realize he’d known you were pregnant?”

“Yeah,” Tim says, trying not to wince. “I mean–I didn’t know what to do at first, so I just took medical leave from the Titans for an ‘injury’, but I told Bart and Cassie, and then . . . well, then Bart died before I told the Kents. It was only a couple months or so–I didn’t want to make them feel worse, in case anything went wrong–but . . .”

But that’s how it is, in their line of work. A couple months or so is more than enough time for another one of your best friends to die.

“Please tell me you weren’t patrolling Gotham knocked up,” Kon says with a grimace.

“. . . technically, yes, but not after I realized I was knocked up,” Tim says, smiling weakly. “Not for . . . more than a week or two, anyway.”

Kon groans, dragging a hand back over his scalp. He looks pained. Tim pretends it’s because Kon thinks he’s an obsessed workaholic, and not because Kon knows him well enough to know how messed up he’d been to actually do that.

“I was in the middle of a case,” he says like it’s any kind of a defense. “And it was investigative work, not . . . I called Dick in to handle the violent parts, okay?”

“Small favors,” Kon says, then glances towards Kyra’s crib. “So you’re . . . retired? You hung up the cape?”

“I’m not Robin anymore,” Tim says. “And I’m not patrolling or running missions. But I can’t–if he ever finds out, if he ever finds her, I can’t be retired. I need to be–ready.”

Kon’s jaw tightens. Tim wishes he’d never had to say that. Wishes the lie had been true. Wishes–

Wishes a lot of things, some for Kon’s sake but most for Kyra’s.

And one or two for his own.

“What’s the new codename, then?” Kon asks, still looking at the crib. Tim’s grateful that he’s not . . . Tim’s just grateful. Grateful that this is Kon, and he’s alive, and he’s here, and . . . and that he’s going to let him lie.

He’s so fucking grateful for that.

“I haven’t exactly bothered rebranding,” he says with forced levity. “I’m not going out with anyone else and I don’t need a rep. I’m not a vigilante anymore. I just need to be able to handle any problems that might come up.”

“You know how Jimmy Olsen has a watch with a distress signal custom-tuned for Clark’s superhearing?” Kon says, glancing back at him with a slightly disgruntled expression on his face. “I’m getting you one. I’m getting you five. And think up a name, man. Get yourself a color scheme and a bunch of weirdly-themed gadgets going. There’s a lot of other birds in the world.”

Kon does have opinions about names, Tim supposes. For obvious reasons.

That was why naming Kyra after him was the only thing he could’ve done, but also a terrible thing for him to have done.

He really couldn’t have done anything else, though. He’d had to name her what he would’ve named her, if Kon had really been . . . if she’d really been . . .

He’d had to.

That’s the best way to lie, after all: use the truth.

“Okay,” Tim says. He might’ve been annoyed by the watch idea when they were younger. Felt like Kon didn’t think he could handle himself or was overestimating himself. He’s not annoyed now. Now it’s just one more contingency plan.

He’d do anything for Kyra. Wearing a panic button that Kon would recognize the frequency of is the least of what he’d do for her.

“Clark’ll help me get something around,” Kon says. “If, uh–especially if he thinks we’re, you know . . . together.”

“I could make it,” Tim points out. “You don’t need to bother him with it.”

“Clark knows the best frequencies to use. Plus then we can make sure it’s not gonna sound too much like Jimmy’s too,” Kon says, then flashes him a grin. “Besides, it’s more romantic if I’m the one giving it to you, right?”

“Fuck you,” Tim snorts, rolling his eyes as he shoves him, and Kon laughs and goes with it. Tim doesn’t know how to tell him he’s the best friend he’s ever had; the best friend he ever could have. He doesn’t know how to apologize enough for this. He doesn’t . . .

Kyra makes a squeaky crooning sound from her crib, and Kon blinks, and–

Oh, Tim thinks, watching Kon’s pupils visibly dilate into pinpricks. Right. He . . . forgot.

“What the fuck?” Kon says.

“Some of her vocalizations are . . . like that,” Tim says carefully as Kon stares fixatedly at Kyra’s crib. She squeaks again. “Um–Clark reacted a little weirdly to some of them too, he said they were–”

Kyra starts her usual melodic babbling, and Kon makes a low rumbling noise in response. Tim–blinks. Kon looks startled too, putting a hand to his chest.

“Uh,” he says. “That was . . .”

Kyra starts babbling louder, squealing for attention, and Tim rolls to his feet and heads over to her. She’s already reaching up before he gets to her, and squeaking excitedly for attention. She sounds like a little baby dolphin or something. Clark said there were resonances and undertones to her voice that human ears couldn’t pick up on, too.

But of course Kon’s not human, is he.

“Can I . . . hold her?” Kon asks awkwardly, stepping up beside Tim as he plucks Kyra up and staring intently at her. She dolphin-squeaks again. He bites his lip, clearly holding back whatever sound he wants to make in response; clearly holding back from reaching out for her.

“Let me change her first,” Tim says. Her diaper’s definitely wet, and he doesn’t want her to get uncomfortable.

“Can you show me how?” Kon asks, still looking a little awkward. “I haven’t been around too many babies, and I kinda just had to, like . . . improvise, the last time I was taking care of one.”

“Uh–sure?” Tim blinks at him in confusion. “Why do you care, though?”

“Dude, I’m not gonna be the kind of asshole co-parent who makes the one who got pregnant do all the diaper changes,” Kon says, looking dubious. “You should show me how to feed her, too. She’s on formula, right? It smells kinda like formula in here. And the kitchen did too.”

“. . . um, okay,” Tim says, and almost bursts into tears on him again. Of course Kon would be like this, the bastard. “She–is, yeah. Clark synthesizes a mix for her in the Fortress. The AI says it’s better for her system than the store-bought stuff, and I had trouble producing enough milk to keep up with her appetite. Plus I kind of needed to get back on my meds as soon as I could anyway, so . . . I mean, they’re supposed to be safe, but I didn’t want to risk it with her physiology.”

“Good, then I can help feed her,” Kon says. Tim blinks at him again, then just . . . takes Kyra to the changing table. She squeaks louder, clearly offended, and tries to reach for Kon. He trails after them, looking fascinated by her.

Well . . . Kon’s never seen a Kryptonian baby before, much less heard one, so . . . of course he would be, Tim thinks. Kyra’s only a quarter-Kryptonian, obviously, but genetically . . . genetically, she might as well be half-Kon, and . . .

And he’s never seen a Kryptonian baby.

So it makes sense that he’d react strongly, yes. It’d make sense that he’d be a little bit fascinated. Clark had reacted to her too. He’d looked just as startled as Kon had, the first time he’d heard her chirp and squeak for attention, and then just as fascinated.

Tim still wonders if Kyra’s the first time Clark’s ever fully felt any of the kind of instincts people normally feel, seeing a baby. Like–genetically speaking, he means. Instinctually. She’s seen more of him than Kon ever did, so . . . well, that might just be because they’ve been staying with the Kents, but Martha had mentioned how nice it was to have Clark around so often a few weeks ago, so . . .

Well. Tim has some suspicions, that’s all.

He wonders, very briefly–he wonders if he would respond to her like Kon and Clark do, if he ever–if he found out about–

He crushes that thought down into gravel and grinds it into his mental pavement. He doesn’t think about it again. Not at all.

(Would it be worse if he did or didn’t, though? If he saw her, and was FASCINATED–

Tim stops thinking about it.)

He changes Kyra’s diaper, taking his time a bit so Kon can better observe the process, and Kyra fusses and chirps and screeches through it. Kon stays in a little bit inconveniently close, but Tim doesn’t say anything about it. Kon can do a lot more than just be a little bit inconvenient, after telling him he’d let him lie about this. He’ll deal with having to work around him.

Kyra screeches louder. Kon makes a thrumming noise low in his throat, and she stops mid-screech and stares up at him intently. Her eyes are a human shade of blue–she got Tim’s eyes and hair, thank fuck, considering there’s no way he ever could’ve sold the alternative as being inherited from Kon–but Clark said there were . . . fractals, he’d described them as. He’d tried to explain, and then tried to draw the pattern, but it’s nothing Tim can see in her eyes for himself.

But it’s a Kryptonian trait, apparently, so he is very, very grateful he’d chosen the lie he had. Even if the squeaking and chirping hadn’t clued Clark in, if he’d ever met her . . .

Tim is very, very grateful he chose the lie he had.

And even more grateful that Kon is willing to help him keep it.

#tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #wip: the one where kon isn't the father #past rape

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heart4reigns · 1 year

Text

SICK DAYS, roman reigns.

warnings: curse words, fainting, pure fluff, domestic-work life!! pet names <3

tags: sick day for u!!!! roman being a teddy bear wuwuwuw, kinda short (sorry)!!

summary: it’s okay to take a break

MAYBE the weather wasn’t really that friendly to you. it was winter and you weren’t prepared for it. or maybe, it was because of that cup of coffee you shared with paul while he had the flu last week. you woke up with a sore throat. you cursed yourself for not bringing water to your room and now you have to get up. as you sat up from your position, you heard your boyfriend’s snores. he was fast asleep and you wished that you were also like him. the creak from your bed woke him up. “baby.” he mumbled. “go back to sleep, i’m just getting water.” you ruffled his hair, telling him to go back to sleep. “okay.”

you turned on the lights, grabbing a glass from the counter. your head was throbbing like crazy. you didn't even realize that you dropped the glass on the floor, waking up your boyfriend. "baby? are you okay?" you heard his footsteps. "yeah, yeah. don't worry, it slipped from the counter." you replied, assuring him that you were okay. he took your hand, to check if you injured yourself or not. "you're burning up." roman placed his hand on your neck, noticing the fever. "i'm okay, baby."

"now, you stay in bed okay?" you shook your head. "baby, i told you i'm okay!" you pouted. "you have a fever and there's no way you're going in the ring today, i'll let everyone know that you're sick." he talked some senses into you, but being the hard-headed person you were, you kept on countering him. "no, no. look, i can stand up perfectly now." you immediately stood up from your position, only causing yourself to fall on your back. "see, you can't even stand properly, silly." roman chuckled. "please just let me go today, the arena is like 10 minutes from our house. i'll let you drive me there!"

after pestering your boyfriend about going to work, he drove you to the arena. "let me know if you wanna go back, okay baby? don't push yourself too hard." you nodded and kissed his forehead. "i can't believe your puppy eyes worked on me." he snickered, getting out of the car. "because you love me." "that's right."

the arena wasn't empty, several staffs were still working. you had to practice some choreography with solo (your tag-team partner) for this week's segment. thankfully, you were partnered up with sami and kevin, the chemistry between the 4 of you was already stable, meaning you didn't have to adapt to a new environment. "damn, (y/n). you look like you've been through some shit." solo commented.

"she's sick as hell but still wants to come." roman sighed in frustration. "go easy on her today." you groaned. "no, don't go easy on me. i'll be okay." you took off your hoodie and hung it inside your locker. “nah, but for real, (y/n). you can watch on the side, i don’t want you to faint or something.” solo continued. “my dude, i’m perfectly fine. i can spear you right here, right now to prove that i’m alright.”

truth be told, you were far from alright. the headache grew stronger and your fever went higher as time went by. even kevin hesitated a bit when he wanted to hit the stunner on you. “are you sure about this?” his arms were on the back of your neck, flaring up by the touch of your heated-skin. “i’m sure.” you smiled at him. “okay, here goes nothing.” you sold the move like usual, but you didn’t get up from your position.

“(y/n)?” solo squatted down, checking up on you. “i’m fine, can you help me get up? i can’t feel my legs.” “come on.” he took your hand and lifted you up. “hey guys, can i take a 10 minute break?” you asked your friends. “i got you, (y/n)!” jimmy slid inside the ring, helping you. “guys, it’s not like i am injured or anything, i just have a fever.” you chuckled, everyone had a concerned look plastered on their faces. “maybe we should all take a break from choreo, let’s run some lines while we wait for (y/n) to rest. wait, never mind, (y/n) take your time okay! we’ll be here all night!” sami gave you a huge smile.

so you were back in the locker room, laying down on the couch. “call me if you need anything. if you wanna go back, call me. i’ll help you out. roman should be back in 15 minutes, he’s dealing with costumes.” you nodded. “sorry practice was a mess because of me. give me 10 minutes and i’ll be okay!” jimmy patted your head. “don’t need to be sorry, you’re our little sister, of course we’ll take care of you.” with that, he closed the door.

“where’s (y/n)?” roman scanned the ring, not seeing your presence. “she’s in the locker room, taking a break. not looking very good, uce.” jey said as he was typing on his phone. “i told her she didn’t have to go today. god, she is so stubborn sometimes.” roman replied, taking off his new gloves. “it’s been half an hour and she’s not back, i think she’s sleeping.” solo added. “i’m gonna check on her, be right back.” roman practically power-walked to the locker room, concerned about your well-being.

and there you were, dozing off on the couch. roman put his hand on your forehead and your fever was worse than before. he gently shook your body, trying to wake you up as he was going to take you back home. “baby?” roman whispered. “(y/n)?” he repeated, not getting an answer. you were out cold.

“what?” you opened your eyes and you were not in the locker room. it took you a couple of seconds to realize that you were back home. “baby, you’re awake.” you saw him carrying a bottle of water and a bowl of something you couldn’t identify. “why are we back home?” was the first question you asked. “baby, you passed out.” “holy shit, i did?”

you hated being sick. you sent multiple messages to solo, jimmy, jey, sami, and kevin (even paul) apologizing because you missed out on rehearsals. they sent the same ‘get well soon’ messages and it warmed your heart. your boyfriend, on the other hand, was panicking over your health. every 5 minutes he would ask if you needed anything to drink or if you wanted anything from downstairs. “baby please stop worrying about me, i’ll be fine in like a day!” you said, trying your best to convince him that you were going to be alright.

“no! of course i’m worried, you’re sick.” he stood up once again, checking your temperature. “it’s still the same, wait, let me get you some cool pads downstairs.” he walked downstairs, carrying the entire medicine compartment. you heard his footsteps but you couldn’t even sit up straight. this fever was taking every single energy you had inside your body. it was quite comical, for a wrestler with your achievements to lose in a fight with this fever. you smiled as your boyfriend entered the room once again.

as he pressed the cooling pad on your forehead, you couldn’t help but to notice that he had a very concerned look on his face. “why are you smiling?” he furrowed his eyebrows. “i don’t know.” after giving you your medicine, he laid right next to you, feeling the warmth coming from your fever. the room was quiet, leaving the two of you in a comfortable silence.

“i think this is all paul’s fault.” you blurted out, gaining his attention. “why is that?” he furrowed his brows. “old people.” you chuckled at your own joke, causing you to cough your lungs out. “okay, that’s karma, don’t blame the man though, he loves you like you’re his own daughter.” he added. “i think it was the coffee from last week, you know, the ‘(y/n) this coffee is so good, you have to try it’ that coffee.” roman let out a laugh at your paul impression as he caressed your hair, taking the time to study your features.

you were rarely sick. the last time you were sick was months ago when you ate a bad hotdog from the street fair somewhere in chicago. you ended up in the emergency room with jey and the two of you couldn’t stop laughing the pain away. “i swear if my fever doesn’t die down by friday, i’m gonna lose my shit.” you admitted. roman only nodded in response, still trying his best to not panic at the touch of your skin.

“i’m scared.” you confessed, gaining his attention “of what, baby?” “what if i fuck up next friday?” you were worried. “baby, it’s going to be okay. now all you need is some rest, you’ve been working your ass off for months. it’s not a big fight, you just need to deliver your promos, let kev hit the stunner, and solo will do the rest, just like the script. you’re not gonna fight until next week, i’m sure you’ll be healthy and ready to spear some people.” he always knew how to cheer you up. “you’re right, sorry. the fever is talking.”

and the silence came in again. it was just the two of you, not doing anything. although your head was still pounding, you couldn’t help but to appreciate the moment. your boyfriend knew that you were a hard-headed person when it comes to work-related things, but this time he was thankful you complied with him. roman was still brushing your hair with his fingers, admiring your features like there was no tomorrow. it broke his heart seeing you being in pain because of a stupid fever. maybe he was being overly dramatic, but he just wanted to take care of you. “this is a very weird request,” you paused for a second. “but can you hug me? your skin feels so cold.”

roman grinned as he gently pulled you closer in his arms. “okay, you’re actually not as hot as before.” he sighed in relief. “are you calling me ugly?” he didn’t really understand why you still had the energy to joke around, but at least you were responding better than before. “oh, shut up. just close your eyes and get some rest.” roman replied. “thank you for taking care of me, i’m sorry i don’t think we can go to that date tomorrow night.” you apologized. “don’t apologize, baby. i love you too and i will always take care of you, okay?”

“you know, this is nice.” you admitted. “what is nice?” he turned around, moving closer to you. “just the two of us, here. i like this silence, we should stay home for our day off next time.” once again, he nodded in agreement. “but let’s make sure you’re not practically bed-ridden, that would be great. and now that you’ve mentioned it, i like this silence.” as soon as roman finished his sentence, you heard a knock coming from downstairs.

“YO, OPEN UP THE DOOR! WE BROUGHT SOUP AND TYLENOLS FOR (Y/N)!” it was none other than his damn cousins. you smiled at him, while roman was groaning in the despair. “god, i’m going to beat their asses for disturbing our peace.” he rolled his eyes, getting up from the bed. truthfully, maybe because of this fever, you got a chance to take a break from your fast-paced work. you took a mental note to thank paul for giving you the flu. “god bless paul heyman.”

a/n: quick sweet domestic life for you (i’m sick as well but why don’t i have any roman reigns taking care of me!!!! i want him)!! anyways like usual, requests are always open!! hope y’all enjoyed this short fic!

#roman reigns #the usos #wwe #wwe imagines #paul heyman #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x reader #jey uso #wrestling #jimmy uso #bloodline imagines #the bloodline #sami zayn #kevin owens #solo sikoa

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worldofheroes · 1 year

Text

Say That Again

tom cruise x fem!actress!reader

summary: during an interview, simon calls you out about your multi-lingual abilities, making you say something embarrassing. tom finds it absolutely attractive and can’t stop thinking about you talking in that tone of voice to him.

warnings: 18+, no plot, language, friends with benefits, protected sex

wc: 1.3k

a/n: based on a request by @rveyjules! I took a couple creative liberties, I hope you don’t mind! this has absolutely no plot, so don't go looking for a storyline lol

“Please welcome Tom Cruise, Henry Cavill, Rebecca Ferguson, Simon Pegg, and Y/N Y/L/N!”

The crowd erupts into cheers and whistles. It takes well over a minute for everyone to calm down.

“I’m so glad you’re here tonight!” Jimmy exclaims.

“It’s great to be here,” Tom smiles.

“So, we have newcomer Y/N Y/L/N to the Mission team. Y/N, what has it been like working alongside these amazing actors?” Jimmy asks.

“Oh, starting with me,” you blush. “It’s been fantastic. Everyone has been so kind and patient. I’m sure Henry can agree with me on this, but it was a little nerve-wracking coming into a series like Mission with such an established story and characters.”

Henry nods. “The crew has been so welcoming. A big part of it is that Tom really likes to get everyone together even when we’re not filming to form those bonds that you see on the screen.”

“I think that’s what keeps this franchise going is those character bonds we see,” Jimmy says. “Now, does any of that change with filming in different countries?”

“I try really hard to ‘normalize’ Mission as much as I can,” Tom says. “We spend a few weeks here, a few weeks there… It's a crazy schedule. I try to set it up to where we can take breaks and just have fun outside of work.”

“You film in so many countries, is there ever a struggle with the language barrier?” Jimmy asks.

“I think all of us are at least conversational in a lot of languages,” Simon says. “Some are better than others…”

Everyone laughs.

“But like, Y/n here is almost fluent in Japanese, which I love,” Simon says.

“Really?” Tom turns so he can face you.

“Thanks Simon,” you say playfully, hitting his shoulder.

“She is! It’s crazy,” Rebecca says.

“Can you say something for us?” Jimmy asks.

“Um… Ohayō, ogenki desu ka?”

“And what does that mean?” Jimmy asks.

“Just a simple, ‘hi, how are you?’,” you smile.

“I believe there’s something with the word ara-ara,” Simon laughs.

“Simon, no!” You laugh.

“Ara-ara?” Jimmy asks.

“It’s kind of a meme,” you explain. “But you have to say it right.”

“How so?” Jimmy asks.

You clear your throat, and then as seductively as you can without embarrassing yourself too much… “Ara-ara.”

Everyone laughs and Tom just about chokes on his water, making everyone laugh harder.

“That was… something,” Tom remarks.

“Simon, I hate you,” you say, laughing.

The interview quickly gets back on the topic of Mission, and wraps up shortly after.

The group makes their way back to their dressing rooms to change back into “street clothes”.

There’s a knock on your door. You open it to see Tom standing in the hallway.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey,” he says, not making eye contact.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can I come in?”

“Um, sure,” you say, moving so Tom can enter. You close the door.

“I didn’t know you could talk like that,” Tom says in a low voice.

“What do you mean?” you ask playfully.

Tom tries to hold back a moan. “You sounded so hot… I can’t stop thinking about doing things to you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re not being very professional.”

“Fuck being professional,” he growls, moving towards you.

“Tom,” you breathe. “Not here.”

Tom reaches out and grabs your arm. He gives it a squeeze and then lets go.

“You’re right. Not here.” Tom sighs. “Come to my hotel room.”

You nod. “I can do that,” you whisper.

“Quickly.”

You nod. Tom quickly exits your dressing room, and you hurriedly finish changing so you can get to the hotel.

You get to the hotel, and you’re standing outside Tom’s room.

You take a breath and then knock. He opens the door instantly, pulling you in.

“Tom,” you whisper.

“I’ve always had a thing for you,” he says softly, brushing hair out of your face. “And the way you said that word…”

“Oh, you like it when I talk like that?” you ask seductively, lightly moving your fingertips up his arms.

Tom closes his eyes. “You have no idea.”

“Mm… I can talk to you like this,” you say with your hands moving to his chest.

“Please,” he says in a strained voice, resting his forehead against yours.

“Do you need to fuck me?” you ask him.

The two of you have agreed to a friends with benefits relationship, neither one of you quite ready to commit to anything, but needing something more than just friendship. And when the two of you met, you both really hit it off.

“Yes,” he whispers.

You start to unbutton his shirt, breathing a little heavier now.

Tom’s hands find the buttons to your shorts, undoing them and pulling them off. You finish unbuttoning his shirt and slide it off his body.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes, pulling your shirt off.

You unclasp your bra and let it fall to the floor.

Tom moans, unable to hold back.

You work at his pants, pulling them down.

“Go ahead and fuck me,” you whisper, palming at his groin.

Tom picks up his pants, pulling his wallet out, then a condom.

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you. “You always have one on you?”

Tom nods. “I can never guess when you’ll do this to me.”

A moan escapes you. “Fuck, you’re hot.”

Tom walks you backwards to the bed. You fall backwards on it, and he crawls on top of you.

He starts kissing your jaw, down your neck, down your body.

“Tom,” you whisper.

He looks up at you, putting his fingers in his mouth, coating them with saliva. Your hips involuntarily buck, knowing what’s about to happen.

Tom’s fingers dive into your folds, making you yelp. He circles your clit, making you squirm.

A finger is inserted into you.

“Tom,” you moan.

He takes his other hand and presses down on your lower abdomen, and you can feel his finger petting your walls.

“More,” you beg.

Tom smiles, inserting another finger.

You put a hand on his, the one that’s working in you.

“I was thinking something… thicker,” you say softly.

“Fuck,” Tom groans. “Okay.”

He removes his fingers, then his boxers. He strokes himself a couple times before ripping the condom wrapper open.

You watch him closely as he rolls the condom down his shaft.

“Tom,” you plead in a whisper.

“I’m right here,” he replies, starting to push into you.

“Shit,” you moan.

“I’m right here,” he repeats, bottoming out against you.

He slowly thrusts against you, grunting in pleasure.

“Agh, sweetheart,” he mumbles, laying down on you, wrapping his arms around you.

“Faster,” you whisper.

Tom grunts in reply, his hips moving faster and faster.

“Tom…” you almost cry in pleasure.

“Come for me, baby girl,” he whispers.

Your fingernails dig into his back as you let go, cumming on his hard cock.

Soon, Tom finishes as well. He sighs, letting down all his weight on you.

You grunt with the added weight. “Fuck.”

Tom sits up and pulls out of you. He discards the condom and lays back down on the bed, pulling you onto his chest.

“Tom,” you exhale.

“You didn’t have to talk like that at the interview,” he whispers.

“Mm, but now I know what it does to you.”

“I think we should change our status. Have a real relationship.”

“What?”

“I’m falling for you, y/n.”

“Tom.”

“We can keep it a secret for a while. Test it out. No pressure or anything for either one.”

You look up at Tom.

“I care about you so much,” Tom says softly.

You nod. “I think we could give it a try.”

Tom smiles softly and kisses your head.

“No pressure,” he repeats.

“No pressure,” you agree.

#pete mitchell x reader #tom cruise x reader #top gun x reader #ethan hunt x reader #tom cruise imagine #maverick x reader

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msbigredmachine · 1 year

Text

On Sight - Part 2 (Jey Uso/OC)

The fact that we hate each other don’t mean we can’t fuck. Just don’t fall in love with me. Part 2 of my 4-part Jey Uso/OC series.

Warnings: The usual smut, toxic behavior, angst

Word count: 9.9k

A/N: Sorry it’s so long! Enjoy though!

ON SIGHT MASTERLIST

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

Jey gif by @jeysuso

Part 2 - LOVE?

Punctuality was your middle name. You took great pride in this trait. Today was meant to be no different, with a quick morning workout, an equally quick breakfast at the hotel cafeteria, and then back up to your room for a shower. This morning you were driving into town with the Usos to film an interview for your new YouTube series. However, you’d been sitting in the lobby for the past twenty minutes, backpack in hand and waiting to leave, and neither Jimmy nor Jey were here. It was even more frustrating to check your Apple watch and see you were starting to run behind schedule. Where the fuck are they?

Right on cue, the elevator opened, and out stepped the twins with a young woman following them. You recognized her as Diamond, a new NXT talent that just made it to TV. She was known more for her raunchy, provocative TikTok posts than her wrestling ability, and you guessed that the Usos had fallen under her spell too.

Checking your watch again, you glared at the two men as they approached. “We should’ve left fifteen minutes ago. Where have y’all been?”

“Sorry, girl, we here now,” Jimmy apologized. “You know Diamond, right? From NXT? We ran into her on our floor.”

Ran into or ran through? “I bet you did.” Bitch was standing wayyyy too close to Jey.

Diamond sized you up, chewing her gum a bit too loudly. “Y/N, right? I watch you on Smackdown all the time. Big fan.” She held her hand out to shake.

Glancing down at her hand, you eyed her like she’d offered you a live scorpion. “If you’re a big fan, you should know I take my work very seriously and I hate being late,” you countered, inwardly reveling in her stunned features as she slowly lowered her hand. You returned your attention to the twins. “I think we can be on our way now, if there are no more…distractions?”

“Ay, come on now, don’t be like that,” said Jimmy.

“Pay her no mind, Uce, she’s just jealous,” Jey declared, his lip curling snidely.

Diamond perked up, intrigued by this new piece of information. You almost laughed at the absurdity of his insinuation.

“Really? Tell me what I’m jealous of, Jey.” You tilted your head, your voice sickeningly sweet. “Please. I need to know. Is it the cheap ass twenty dollar wig or the half baked BBL?”

Diamond’s jaw dropped. “Hey, who the fuck do you th-”

“I’m not talking to you,” you cut her off, not bothering to look at her. “I’m talking to him. Answer me, Jey, since you know my every thought.”

“But you’re damn sure talking about me, bitch!” Diamond spat. She moved towards you, but you leveled her with a glare so scathing that it stopped her in her tracks. Both twins cringed.

“Take one step closer and see what happens,” you warned, your voice low and venomous. “I may not wrestle, but I can gouge out a bitch’s eyes and think nothing of it. You’re fucking with my time and I take exception to that. So if you’re done with your little meet-and-greet session, you can take your ass back to wherever it is you came from. Is that okay with you?”

Diamond’s fists clenched and unclenched, visibly fuming. You rolled your eyes, swished your hair over your shoulder and turned your back in a clear-cut sign of dismissal.

Jey kissed his teeth as he watched Diamond storm off. “There you go again, being a complete bitch to everyone you meet-”

You rounded on him, indignant. “Are you seriously talking to me right now?”

“Damn right I’m talking to you!” Jey answered, staring you down. “Why you gotta talk to her like that?”

“Aww, should I go apologize to your girlfriend, then? Fuck outta here!”

“Yo yo yo, both of y’all, chill!” Jimmy intervened.

“Get your brother, Jimmy. I am not in the mood today.”

Jimmy rubbed his temples. “Why y’all always fightin’? Ain’t it exhausting?”

You cut your eyes at them. “Can we leave now?”

Jimmy shoved his hand in his pocket. “Hold up. I gotta take a leak first. Here, Uce.” He tossed the car keys to his brother. “I’ll catch up. And please don’t kill yourselves by the time I get there.”

If you were him, you wouldn’t hold your breath.

As you walked to the enclosed parking lot, Jey trailed behind you, wisely keeping his distance. The anger radiated from you like the sun in the morning sky. He knew he shouldn't antagonize you, but he just couldn’t fucking resist. Watching your eyes narrow at him, the way your nostrils flared, the manner in which you eloquently and efficiently served Diamond, made him so hot for you. Right now his eyes were fixated on your ass, swaying from side to side, accentuated by the tight jeans you were wearing. He wanted to grab that ass, smack that ass, worship that ass…preferably with you on all fours as he pounded relentlessly into you and made you scream and beg for him.

Fuck, his dick was hard.

So lost was he in his erotic reverie that he almost collided into you. You had stopped, waiting for him to lead the rest of the way to his vehicle.

“Well? Which one is it?” you demanded.

Jey raised his hand up like a student in class, his countenance pensive and serious. “I got a question. How’d you fit all that ass in them jeans?”

If you could throw your backpack at his head, you would. You looked up to the heavens and prayed to God for His strength and guidance. You held your breath as Jey sidled past you with a snicker, the tension simmering between the two of you.

“Is that what you asked your little groupie back there?” you said, watching him open up a grey Ford SUV remotely. “You got a lot of nerve, calling me jealous in front of that bitch.”

“Did I lie? You were jealous. I saw it in your eyes.”

“Jealous of who? That talentless clout chaser? Ain’t nothin’ to be jealous of, cuz you’ll come crawling back to me anyways.”

“That might be true. But it made your blood boil when you saw me with her. You thought I was all up in her guts last night and you couldn’t handle it, huh? Admit it.”

“I ain’t admitting shit.”

“Well, if you must know, none of us touched her, me or my brother. We were already coming down when we saw her.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t care.”

“Girl, stop lying. You pressed as fuck right now,” Jey pointed out.

“Boy, bye. I don’t give a damn what you did with her,” you insisted stubbornly. “Even if you did fuck her, you’d probably be thinking ‘bout me and how much better my pussy is. Hell, you might accidentally scream my name too, so pipe down.”

“See? Jealous,” he taunted, coming over to the passenger’s side of the car where you stood. “You mad cuz you want me for yourself.”

“Fuck off,” you shot back, stiffening when he trapped you against the car with his body. His signature scent bombarded you; a sharp, woody musk tantalizingly mixed with vanilla and him. One part of him stood out in particular, straining against your thigh. This man got turned on simply by arguing with you. Deep down it felt good to know you held that kind of power over him.

“You gonna admit it or not? Tell the truth for once, woman,” Jey pressed, his hands on your hips.

“You are asking to be kneed in the balls.”

“Then you’ll never ever fuck me again.” He smiled with triumph at the horror on your face as you dared to imagine life without his magic stick. “Admit it. I wanna hear you say it.”

“That I was jealous?” You shrugged. “Fine. Maybe I was, a little. I hate when another bitch touches what’s mine.”

“And what makes you think I’m yours?” he questioned.

Smirking, you tugged a tuft of his salt-and-pepper beard between your fingers. “Oh, sweetheart. Who else are you fucking besides me? No one, that’s the answer. Don’t worry, I know. You’re not interested in any other pussy cuz ain’t none as sweet as mine.”

You spoke with confidence, and the hitch of his breath confirmed that he agreed with you. Your hand traveled from his chin all the way down south, startling him when you scooped a handful of his jewels. You held his stare as you fondled him through his sweatpants, feeling him harden in your grasp. “Hmm, so responsive to me. Even your dick knows it’s mine.” You made a show of licking your lips and watched his darkened eyes follow your tongue. “You belong to me, Jey, and I’m not letting you go until I’m good and ready to.”

Oh, he was obsessed. Your assertiveness, your cockiness. Those pretty fuck-me eyes of yours and that full, pouting mouth. He wanted to deep-fuck your mouth with his cock. He wanted to replace the gloss on your lips with your spit, wanted to kiss you and taste you and possess every inch of you. “Keep playin’ with me, princess. If you think I won’t throw you in the backseat and fuck the shit outta you while my brother drives, you’re mistaken,” he countered, unhanding himself from your clutches and linking your fingers together. “I can say the exact same thing about you, baby,” he continued, his voice low and husky. “You lie awake at night thinking ‘bout this dick, touching yourself, fantasizing about me. Don’t nobody do what I do to you, and you know it.”

God, you so wished he wasn’t right. “You are a pain in my ass, Jey Uso,” you sighed.

His smile was sly and panty-wetting. “And you love that shit,” he replied smoothly, cupping your face and pulling your lips onto his. He felt, rather than heard, your moan of surprise at the passion with which he kissed you. But he was making a point, reminding you who truly belonged to whom. His tongue swirled around yours as one of his hands roamed down your back. As he expected, you reacted positively, moaning wantonly against his lips, quickly getting into the kiss as you held him tight.

“No lie, you sexy as fuck when you’re jealous,” he teased, nibbling your bottom lip playfully.

“Shut up,” you giggled, tugging him closer. You kissed harder, more urgently, breathing heavily with lust for each other, and together it created a sweltering amount of hunger that demanded satisfaction.

Pulling you away from the car to throw open the backseat, he hoisted you off your feet and sat you on the edge with your legs dangling out of the SUV. He was quick to close the space between you, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as his lips reclaimed yours. You sucked on his tongue while he caressed your thighs, before sneaking behind you to grip your ass and grind into you. Angling your head to kiss him better, your hands left his face to slip underneath his t-shirt and caress his warm, bronzed skin. It was hot and needy and thrilling, causing both of you to moan greedily into each other’s mouths. You really wanted to be pissed at the crazy things he made you do, behind closed doors and otherwise. But your body always betrayed you in the end, succumbing to the excitement and lack of inhibition that being with him brought.

A flash of movement over Jey’s shoulder caught your attention. Jimmy had just turned the corner. “Shit,” you muttered, tearing away from Jey and scooting closer to the window of the backseat, fixing your face to its most neutral expression.

“Sorry guys, got held up by fans,” Jimmy explained, getting into the passenger’s side. Jey felt a pang of resentment towards his brother for the interruption, but he shut the back door wordlessly, rounded the SUV and entered the driver’s seat to begin the drive to town.

“Y’all quiet as hell. Did you two fight again?” asked Jimmy, eyeing his twin suspiciously.

“Nope,” Jey answered, but we definitely almost fucked again, he kept that part to himself. Glancing up at the rear view mirror, he locked eyes with you in the backseat. Your nonchalant façade instantly dropped, and he forced down a moan as you slowly licked the remnants of his taste off your lips, keeping eye contact the whole time. Yeah, it was imperative that he found time today to get you alone and finish what you started.

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

Another day, another chaotic airport run. All Jey wanted was to check in peacefully and find a quiet corner while he waited for his early morning flight. Obviously it was too much to ask. First off, the attendant handling his check-in had tried to slip him her number, and he’d had to politely refuse her advances. A little boy later came up to him, and he was obliged to stop for a quick photo. But before he could blink, a small crowd had formed, and he’d had to sneak away before it got too rowdy. He eventually found a place to lay low, and it seemed to work after ten minutes of relative peace. It was an airport he’d never been to before and he had yet to learn the good hiding places.

“Well, well, look who it is.”

Picking up his dropped hoodie, he exhaled and turned in the direction of your voice, laying eyes on you for the first time in over a week. Even in a simple t-shirt and leggings with no makeup on, you looked gorgeous. “You following me now, princess?” he asked.

“You wish. How long have you been hiding here for?”

“Been a minute. I’m not too familiar with this airport,” he informed.

“I’ve been here once before,” you explained. “There’s a VIP lounge around the corner where no one will bother us. It’s huge and really comfortable. You can come along if you want, as long as you don’t stress me out.”

Jey didn’t need to think too long, already gathering his things with him. It sounded like a plan, plus he would never pass up on the chance to stress you out.

When the large mirrored door opened, he realized you were right. It was massive. Four large flat screen TVs adorned opposite walls. A fireplace crackled at the far end of the room. Stuffed chairs and leather couches were arranged artfully around the room. There was no one else in the lounge except for the attendants, who immediately let you both in because they were wrestling fans.

“You want anything? Booze? Food?” you asked Jey as you put your hand luggage beside the couch he settled down in. Jey did the same with his small duffel bag and tugged your hand sharply. You landed on his lap with a startled ‘oof’, making him laugh.

“What are you doing?” Your glare was half-hearted, giving him hope.

“Ain’t nobody here but us. Come sit with me.”

You raised your eyebrow. “Sit with me or sit on me? And the attendants can probably see us.”

“No they can’t, we’re far away. And they know better than to invade guests’ privacy, unless they want a lawsuit on they ass. Relax, baby, damn.”

“I told you not to stress me out,” you griped, but despite your mild annoyance, you leaned back against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through your layers of clothing. “Happy?”

“Hell yeah. I got a baddie on my lap.”

You burst into a fit of giggles. “You stupid.” You snuggled against him, relaxing when he wrapped you up in his arms and kissed your hair. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, it was nice being with him like this, with the quiet, the privacy; few and far between these days but welcome every time.

“Where are you off to, anyway? Home?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Not yet. Chi-town.” You felt his body heave in a sigh. “Twin and I got a meeting with Papa John’s for a commercial deal,” he said proudly.

“Securing the bag. I dig it,” you smiled, happy for him. Your hand brushed over his, and Jey did not hesitate to loosen his grip and intertwine your fingers. Your skin tingled.

“I kinda wish we were flying together,” you confessed in a small voice.

“Me too. Best believe you’ll be joining the Mile High Club with the quickness,” he wiggled his eyebrows dramatically, earning your laughter.

“Who says I’m not a member already?”

“…Oh. My bad, then.”

You quickly pursed your lips together to keep from laughing again. “You look disappointed. Are you jealous, Uso?”

Jey cleared his throat, avoiding your teasing gaze. “No.”

“Don’t be,” you assured him, stroking the back of his mullet. “I’m not a member just yet. But when I do join, I wanna do it with you.”

“Hit me up whenever you’re ready. I’ll borrow the jet from Roman.”

“Yeah, maybe we should leave Roman out of it.” You took a long look at him. “You haven’t fucked me in a week, by the way. You’re slacking big time, Uce,” you pointed out jokingly. Or maybe not.

“Nine days to be exact, but who’s counting, eh? And trust me when I say I jacked off to you every single day."

You would have preferred to hear that Jey had missed you during the time you were apart, but it was still nice to know that you had at least made several appearances in his sexual fantasies. The thought of him pleasuring himself to mental images of you was undeniably hot. “You did, huh?”

"Mm-hmm. All I kept thinkin’ about," he said, squeezing the top of your thigh suggestively, "was bending you over and fucking this sweet pussy of yours. I could almost hear you beggin’ for it," he growled.

You swallowed when his hand circled around to your inner thigh. "What are you doing?" Your voice quivered, anxious but also aroused. You quickly looked around to see if anyone was watching.

"Just showing you some of the places I imagined I was touching," he replied casually, like you were having an innocent conversation. He stared into your eyes, gauged your reaction. "Like here, for one..." With his other hand, he gently cupped the underside of your breast, making you bite your lip. He watched your reaction with a smile. He loved watching you squirm. He'd made you squirm many times before, but not in public like this. It was quite the turn-on. Your gasp as he pressed soft kisses to your throat spurred him on, trailing his lips up to your ear. "Here..." The hand on your thigh slid up to the waistband of your leggings, dipping inside and brushing over your panties. "And my tongue was right here..."

"Shit..." You gasped and ducked your head when he rubbed you there. You could already feel your panties dampening, the gathering wetness causing him to rub you faster. Grabbing his bicep, you whined into his neck from pleasure. When he tugged your panties to the side, you knew you were in big trouble. “Jey, wait,” you begged, squeezing your legs together. But there was no stopping him - his fingers were already brushing over the slick folds of your pussy. His low moan made you shiver, and you wondered if there was enough time for a quickie in the lounge’s restroom.

Just as his fingers made to push inside you, the airport’s PA system announced your flights. Jey sighed and withdrew his hand. "Sorry, babe. I guess we gotta finish this some other time."

“And when exactly will that be?” you asked, your face heating up at the thought of having him again. Without saying a word, he kissed the corner of your mouth and gently eased you to your feet. Your legs wobbled and your face burned. No answer, huh? Oh, he was so going to pay.

You made a quick stop at the restroom before leaving the lounge. Together, you headed to your gates, coming to a stop when you had to go in opposite directions. For several long seconds, the two of you regarded one another, before you tiptoed up to kiss his cheek, reaching around him to stuff something into his back pocket.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Something to remember me by when you’re in Chicago,” you replied mysteriously, your irises twinkling as you bit your lip.

Letting out a deep chuckle, Jey took your hand and drew you closer. “Come here.” Gripping your chin between his long fingers, he sucked your bottom lip between his, savoring the feel of your plump flesh in his mouth. In turn, you pressed yourself against him as your tongues touched. You felt your insides melt, and you desperately wished you had taken him into the restroom with you. When his mouth parted from yours, you were paralyzed. Your eyes were still tightly closed as you ran your tongue along your bottom lip and moaned softly. Opening your dark orbs slowly, you reached up to cup the side of his face. His eyes blazed with barely concealed desire, just as affected as you were. He shifted his face, pursing his lips against your palm.

“I’ll see you soon, princess,” he whispered.

With that, he slipped past you, allowing his fingertips to graze your own as he passed. His touch sent jolts of electricity through you, as powerful as a lightning strike. As the distance extended between you, you dared to look back at him, right as he turned back to look at you. It was then he remembered you had put something in his pocket. He stuck his hand inside, and swallowed hard when his fingers brushed over the unmistakable piece of fabric.

Panties. Damp lace panties.

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

Days later…

What was this hell you were in?

This was not what you expected when you touched down in Miami. You expected some warmth, some clear skies. Instead, the downpour had been relentless all evening. And you definitely didn’t expect the thunder to be this loud and frightening.

Thunder scared you, ever since you were a little girl, and worsened as an adult for reasons you’d rather not revisit. It was sudden and loud and made you feel like the world was coming to a fiery end. Right now it felt just like that, and it had been going on for hours. You were bunked down in your hotel room, alone. Buried under the covers because your headphones were doing nothing to block out the earth-shattering noise.

Another loud crack of thunder shook the hotel room and you screamed. The aggressive rain didn't help your nerves. You couldn’t go on like this. Left with no choice, you grabbed your phone and dialed a number with shaking hands.

“You missing me, princess?”

“Can you come over, please?” you squeaked out.

The tone of your voice must have alerted him, because his own softened immediately. “Hey, you alright?” It sounded like he was sitting up.

“No. Please get here, I’ll explain everything.”

“I’ll be there. What’s your room number?”

Jey was at your door in ten minutes. You barely opened the door when you rushed back across the room and dove into the bed, the covers wrapped tightly over you. He could see you shaking, could hear you crying. He doubted you even noticed when he climbed in next to you. Or when he began to lightly rub your back.

"It's okay," he whispered, his heart cracking with each sob that broke free from your throat. “Shh. Hey, it’s okay.” He held you close, whispering and murmuring what he hoped were soothing words. With each passing boom of thunder outside, you cried. Jey had a younger cousin that suffered from a similar ailment, so he had an idea of what you were currently enduring. He focused on trying to calm you down.

"You're okay, baby," he whispered, making sure the blanket covered you completely. He smoothed a hand over your head, and slowly but surely, he felt you begin to relax. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck, wanting nothing more than to climb into his skin and hide in his embrace until every second of your ordeal from seven years ago was erased.

It took another hour and a half for the last of the storm to sweep away, and Jey felt you shiver when the thunder gave one last half-hearted rumble. "It's okay, princess, you’re okay," he murmured, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears. “Why are you all alone in here?”

“I was meant to be with Samantha, but Ricochet happened.”

“You shoulda come to me.”

“I didn’t want to intrude.”

“And when has that ever stopped you?”

A short laugh escaped you as you tapped his chest with the back of your hand. Loosening your grip on the covers, you let him wrap his arms around you completely, and rested your head on his chest.

“College,” you said.

“Huh?”

“The…thunder problem. It started in college. The final semester of my Masters. I was rushing home one night from a study group. There were reports going around that someone was out there assaulting women on campus. It was raining heavily but I really wanted to return to my dorm. It was a couple of blocks away, but I had my mace on me so I was sure I would be fine.

“I remember reaching the steps of my building, literally moments away from safety. But then someone attacked me from behind. He shoved me face first into a wall and then dragged me to some dark alleyway. He had a knife, and his hand was on my mouth so I couldn’t scream, but the rain and the thunder was so loud that nobody heard me either way. Everything was so wet and dark. I can still smell everything, the dirt, the rain…his breath...” You inhaled sharply, fighting back the terror already creeping into your skin, threatening to consume you like it always did.

Jey could see your struggle. “Hey, you don’t have to-”

You shook your head before he could finish. “I’m fine,” you promised. You swallowed hard. Continued. “He threw me down on the ground, I remember hitting my head, bleeding. He never spoke, but with the way he kept choking me and trying to drag down my jeans, I knew who he was immediately, and I had to stop him somehow. I would have rather died than let him do what he wanted to do.”

“Did he…” asked Jey, holding you tighter, as though trying to protect you from your own memories.

You shook your head with a small smile. “Believe it or not, two days before that, I’d watched the Smackdown episode when you and your brother turned heel on American Alpha. You kicked Chad Gable in the leg. l don’t know why, but that clip flashed through my mind. I don’t remember what distracted him, but it gave me an opening to kick him right in the balls. He dropped like a ton of bricks. I beat his ass with my umbrella. I never ever knew I could fight like that. I guess it was the adrenaline, and the fact that my life was in danger.” Taking a deep, shaky breath, you wiped your eyes. “It was the most traumatic experience of my life, and I’m reminded of it every time it rains. That’s why I live on the fucking West Coast. Ain’t no rain over there to trigger me.”

“Have you considered therapy, or counseling?” asked Jey.

“No. I’ve dealt with it as best as I could.”

“You should. It’s okay to get professional help. My cousin got therapy for something similar to this, and she’s doing much better today. I was forced to ask for help…when I struggled with painkillers back in the day.”

He hesitated for a second, and you saw something flash in his eyes. Gently, you rubbed his arm, transferring some of the comfort he’d given you to him. When he spoke again, his voice was a little more than a hoarse whisper. “It’s been a long road, but therapy has helped me. Still helping me. Give it a shot, or at least think about it.”

Letting his advice sink in, you nodded and leaned into him. “Okay,” you replied quietly, allowing your fingers to trace the intricate tattoos on his forearm. “You came over fast. Did anyone see you?”

“Nope. And even if they did, who gives a shit?” Jey said, his fingers closing around yours in a gentle grip. “I’m glad you called me.”

You smiled. “Surprisingly, I didn't think twice about calling you. I just knew you’d be here for me. I know this might sound a little strange considering we’re always at each other's throats, but I feel…safe…with you.” Daring to glance his way, you rolled your eyes at his teasing grin. “I know, I know, I’m being all mushy and sappy. After all, we��re in this weird ass situationship...”

“Nah princess, it’s cool. I’m kinda glad you feel that way. I know you’ve only been with WWE for like a year, but it feels like I’ve known you for longer. You're beautiful and you're ambitious and you’re stubborn as hell, and that’s why I’m so attracted to you. I’ve tried not to be. I’ve tried to stay away from you, but something about you just keeps me coming back.”

A husky, grim chuckle escaped his throat. “I thought fighting with you would do the trick. Thought I could push you away. But that shit backfired. Now we havin’ sex all the time and I come running at the snap of your fingers like a fucking lapdog. You’re right. Our situationship, as you call it, is weird as fuck. I’ve heard the word toxic thrown around, too. But the crazy part is I don’t mind one bit, cuz it’s you. You don’t make it easy to resist you, princess. Not at all.”

There was a longing in his voice that your heart reached out and grabbed onto, latched onto it with an iron grip. With only a few sentences, the two of you had encroached on something far more intimate than anything you were used to. You were drawn to it, this new possibility…drawn to this crazy notion that you’d developed feelings for each other. It frightened you so much, because the sane, sensible part of you was screaming that it would all end in tears and a broken heart.

But you had since realized that when it came to Jey Uso, you and sanity were complete strangers.

“Well then,” you breathed, your lips mere inches from his, “Maybe you should stop resisting me.”

With that, you closed the hair's breadth that remained between you and captured his lips in a passionate kiss. All that could be heard in the small room from then on were soft sighs and mouths meeting and parting as the two of you embraced. Your hands explored together, traveling under clothing to linger against bare skin, reacquainting yourselves with familiar curves and contours. You grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, craving to feel his bare skin against yours. Jey pulled away sharply to swipe his tongue along your throat, making you tremble and dig your nails into his muscular back. He cradled the back of your head for another kiss, then scooped your ass in his hands, squeezing and kneading the soft fleshy skin that he was so infatuated with. Taking his hand in yours, you guided it around to your thigh, then slid it to exactly where you wanted it. A moan issued from his lips as he palmed your sex and rubbed your already wet pussy.

Your breathing quickened as he circled your clit with the pad of his thumb, then, you let out a rough grunt as he slid two fingers inside you. To your ears, it was quite an unfeminine sound, but it might as well have been a porn star’s perfected moan from the way Jey’s eyes darkened. His tongue darted across his full lips before his mouth crashed against yours. He worked your dripping cunt, pumping his fingers inside you, and you began to feel hot and tingly. The kiss quickly intensified as you rolled him onto his back, feeling his growing bulge pressing directly on your core. Not missing a beat, you dipped your hand inside his pants, swallowing his quiet moan as you fondled him until he was rock-hard.

With him flat on his back and defenseless, you took the opportunity to crawl down his body and rid him of his pants and briefs. You did the same with your robe, watching his heated eyes scan your nakedness. Licking your lips at the sight of his glorious cock, you gently squeezed it, staring into his eyes and loving the lust and anticipation that shone in them. You dragged your tongue up and down the underside of his shaft, once, twice, until you reached the head. Taking him between your lips, you kept your suctions light at first, then, your mouth lowered further and further until he disappeared completely in your mouth. Suckling him harder, stroking the base of his shaft with your hand. Humming around his cock, you opened your mouth wider to make him feel the angles in your throat. You slurped his flesh then bobbed on his dick, never letting him escape the tight confines of your starving throat.

At this point, Jey was gasping uncontrollably, his hand shooting out to grab your hair as his length stiffened in your mouth. You loved the way he threw his head back, groaning from how deep you had him down your throat, coupled with the saliva dribbling from your lips. You used it to lather his dick as you released him to give your mouth a breather. Then, going back in, you sucked him with added fervor. You were on a mission, sucking him off like rent was due, showing his luscious dick no mercy. A satisfied moan rumbled from your stuffed throat as he erupted inside your hot mouth. He tasted warm and salty and perfect; you were so turned on that your pussy trickled onto the sheets between your knees. You pulled your lips off him with an audible pop after he was finished and lay on your side next to him. You could watch his cum face forever, it was so sexy.

“Fuck, princess,” Jey gasped, massaging your jawline in gratitude, “Damn, you made me nut so hard, baby, that was great.”

“I try, Daddy,” you replied, watching him grab his semi-hard length and caress it in his hand. He glanced over at you, noted the famished look on your face, and made a show of stroking himself deliberately for your benefit.

“You want more, baby?” he asked, the question bordering on a taunt. When you nodded eagerly with a lick of your lips, he moaned softly. “Goddamn, you so fucking sexy. Get on top of me,” he instructed.

Obediently, you swung your leg over his torso, straddling him carefully. He held you by your waist to steady you while he guided his dick inside your pussy, your bodies merging into a single perfect unit. Resting your hands on his chiseled abdomen, you wiggled your ass and tilted your head back with a moan, your eyes closing as you took in more of him. You loved the feeling of him inside you, where even the smallest movement sent pleasure vibrating up your spine. Looking back down, you locked eyes with your man. His gaze bored into yours, practically panting for breath as his hands ran over your stomach and then higher, closing over your breasts. You moaned as he toyed with your dark brown nipples, and your legs squeezed just a little tighter against his muscular thighs. You rocked your hips forward, a teasing, tiny, motion. Still, his jaw clenched, his head arched back as a pleasurable groan escaped from his throat. You moved in earnest, slow and steady, taking him deeper, the sensation of you wrapped snug and tight around him.

"Aw, babe, you're so wet," Jey moaned, pulling you down for a steamy kiss, his arm around your waist. Satisfied moans and desperate groans were muffled as you feasted on each other's tongues. You ground down on his cock, and he rocked his hips up in sync with yours. It was slow, sensual, and deeply erotic. There was no part of your body that didn't line up perfectly with his. The friction between you was the sweetest agony, setting all of your senses on fire.

Jey groaned against your shoulder, his hand coming down on your butt. "Come on, ride me baby," he encouraged, holding on to your ass as you rode him at an increasing gallop. His panting breaths on your skin teased your climax from somewhere on the outskirts of pleasure. "Oh shit," you whimpered, fucking him with a newfound desperation. You honed in on his voice, his deep groans, the creamy sounds of your pussy, feeling their impact as you worked to meet his furious strokes.

Sweeping you into his arms, Jey rolled you onto your back and glided down your body until his mouth pressed against your center. Hoisting your legs in the air, he lapped hungrily at your folds and spread them with his fingers, dragging his tongue upward to your clit, then back down and then up again. He buried his face in your treasure, eliciting a loud moan from you. You spasmed beneath him and came almost immediately, as he continued to torment your swollen pussy with his talented mouth, making it wet and soft. Finally, you couldn’t take anymore and sat up, forcing him up with you. You kissed him full on the mouth, tasting the tangy sweetness of your own pussy. He laid you flat on your back again, bringing his full weight back onto your waiting body, and ground his hips into yours as you kissed. His hot mouth parted from yours to attack your neck and jawline, and you moaned again, lost in the sensations he was eliciting from you.

So distracted were you that you didn’t realize his dick was in his hand, sliding it back inside you before you could recover your bearings. He proceeded to grind into you, making you feel every inch he was filling you up with. He would withdraw until only the tip of his dick was left, then literally grind his way back inside, your eyes rolling back with every mouthwatering roll of his hips. Your lips were in constant contact as he took his time with your pussy, alternating slow, decadent thrusts with hard, deep, punishing strokes that knocked the wind out of you. Your pussy was eating good and it made you dizzy in the best damn way, as he wrapped you up in his strong sturdy arms.

“You’re mine. You belong to me,” he whispered to you.

“Yes Daddy…”

He reached up to squeeze your left breast. “Tell me. I wanna hear it.”

“I’m yours. I belong to you. Fuck, Jey, ohhh,” you moaned, your head rearing back as your body accepted his deep, pummeling thrusts. The pleasure he was giving to you was nothing short of incredible. You wanted to say he was fucking the shit out of you, but this didn’t quite feel like fucking. He was making love. To you. With you. As you stared into his eyes, the emotions bubbled to the surface, consuming your entire being and his. You knew. He knew.

Running your hands along his muscular triceps, you felt him shiver from your caress. “This your pussy, Daddy?” you asked him, gazing up adoringly at him.

“Yeah, this my shit.”

“This your pussy?”

“You know it is.” He kissed your lips.

“Then fuck it like it’s yours.”

And that, he did. Pushing your legs back, speeding up his thrusts. Wet sounds permeated around the hotel room as his hips pistoned to beat up your soaked pussy. He leaned forwards and nudged your legs up higher until your knees were by your ears. Your foreheads met, his lips parted over your own, exhaling labored breaths as he thrust into you with much more vigor. He was doing his best to stuff his thick shaft into you, hitting your sweet spot each time he hammered into your pussy.

“Oh god, Jey!” you whined, staring helplessly down between your bodies as he plowed into you, the tightness in your belly intensifying. “Yeah, fuck me, fuck me, fuuuck!”

This was what being on drugs felt like, Jey thought. The potency, the high, the addiction, the need for it at every waking hour. Your sex was his new drug, and he was a fiend for it, a slave for you and your intoxicating taste. Trembling from both pleasure and realization, Jey nuzzled the skin of your throat and lavished it with wet licks and breathy kisses. Grabbing the headboard for leverage, he plunged into your warm depths, going so deep in you, his balls pressed against your ass. He hissed softly as he felt your hands smooth down his back and squeeze the taut skin of his ass, drawing him closer to sweet release. “I’m ‘bout to buss in this pussy, princess…Fuck…”

You had to come. The incredibly hot noises coming from his throat made it impossible to hold it in any longer. Your pussy gushed like a sprung leak, wetting his thighs up. Jey wrapped one arm underneath you and lifted your ass off the bed, holding you right up against his groin and pounding you even as you were coming hard. Moaning uncontrollably, your hands clutched wildly at the sheets for balance before grabbing his back, only to be slammed back down to the bed by his hand around your throat as he kept pounding his dick into you. The rough, sudden switch was primal and erotic as hell, and your pussy agreed, quivering around him, making your legs shake in midair from the force of yet another mind-blowing orgasm.

Thrusting only a couple more times, Jey let out a low cry as his body seized up, his dick throbbing as he came hard inside you, making a chill run down your spine. He was at your mercy as your pussy kept its strong grip on his cock, milking him to the very last drop. When he released your throat and let you straighten your legs, it felt like they didn’t work anymore as they hung limply around his waist. He looked on in mild amusement at your shell-shocked expression, your body twitching as you took in gulps of precious air.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I…think you broke my pussy,” you gasped.

“Let me pet it, then,” he offered, laughing when you quickly smacked his hand away.

“Um, no, you’ve done enough damage,” you giggled.

Rolling off you and onto his back, he gathered you into his arms. “That was so fuckin’ hot, princess. I love how your body reacts to me,” he said.

“I love the way you fuck me. It turns me on,” you disclosed with a kiss to his lips. You rested your head in the hollow of his neck afterwards, inhaling his scent, luxuriating in the rapid pulse of his heartbeat and his hand caressing your hip.

“So…I heard you get to work from home this week,” Jey spoke up.

You rolled your eyes with a giggle. “Boy, quit bribing Kayla for information on me.”

“Whatever. It’s my week off and I’m heading to Key West tomorrow after the show. I got a place by the beach there. Come with me. It’ll be fun.”

Not wanting to appear too eager, you waited a few seconds to reply. “Fine. But it better be worth my while.”

Jey only smiled. Words were not needed. You would see for yourself.

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

One week later

Happy.

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and you were smiling from ear to ear. You had Tamia’s “So Into You” on repeat from how euphoric you were feeling. You were walking on air and you didn’t want to come down, because you couldn’t get last week out of your head.

Key West was a beautiful part of Florida. It was the perfect place to unwind from the craziness of the circus that was the WWE. Jey’s secluded beachfront home was cozy and beautiful; he was the consummate host and made sure you were comfortable and well taken care of. He showed you a great time, treating you to good food, grade A ganja, and spectacular sex.

Lots of it.

Heat spread through your body whenever you thought about the way you slutted each other out for five straight days. Damn. Jey Uso was quite the athlete and had a creative mind, and he put that shit to good use in bed. But this trip wasn’t all about sex. You learned a lot of other things about him. Like his ability to play the piano. He had one in the house and he played it every night. Watching his fingers move so skillfully across the keys made you understand why he was so good with your body. You learned that he loved walks on the beach. They calmed and centered him, and it did the same for you whenever you went with him. You learned bits about his life that he had kept from even his brothers and cousin. It warmed your heart to know that he was now comfortable enough to confide in you. A lot of your conversations were deep and personal, and both of you kept every single word exchanged dear to your hearts.

And then, on the final night, Jey made love to you as the sun set. Yes. Made love. There was no mistaking it this time. It was hands down the most intimate, most passionate, and, dare you say, romantic experience you’d had with him to date. The way you stared into each other's eyes as if you never wanted to look at any others again. The way he slowed his strokes to take his time with you rather than fucking you into the bed like he often did. The way he kissed you sensually and held your hands as you moaned your names, felt a whole lot like…that. Different. Amazing. You saw in his eyes that he felt the same way, and as you returned to work, you both knew that your relationship had taken a new turn.

Cody Rhodes was helping you set up your equipment for your YouTube show inside one of the media rooms in the arena. You noticed he was being extra attentive today, hanging around you more. But this was him, always nice to everyone and genuinely interested in what they were doing, so you thought nothing of it. You’d caught a glimpse of the Convertible he had driven in with today. It looked just like the one Jey used to show you the beautiful night view from a secluded hilltop overlooking the city of Key West. You had shown him your appreciation by riding him in the backseat in full view of the bright city lights…

Sheesh, you really couldn’t stop thinking about him, could you? You wondered where he was as he hadn’t texted you all morning.

Looking around the room and satisfied with your handiwork, you dusted off your hands proudly. “Perfect. Anyone who walks in here will feel the vibes,” you declared with enthusiasm.

“Yeah, it looks amazing,” said Cody, an indecipherable look on his face as he watched you. Sitting down next to him, you opened up your MacBook and started work.

“Can I ask you something?” Cody spoke up.

“Sure.” You glanced over at him, doing a double take at the look on his face. “Everything okay?”

It certainly didn’t look that way. He seemed to be struggling with some kind of internal battle and it had you a little concerned. Staring at you for another long, charged moment, he shrugged his shoulders.

“Ya know what? Fuck it.”

Reaching over and grabbing your face with both hands, he pressed his lips to yours.

A surprised grunt escaped you, a sound that was soon muffled by his mouth moving against yours. His hands framed your face, holding you to him as you froze in complete shock. You had no idea how long you sat there for while Cody kissed you. You were just wondering what the fuck was going on.

From the open door a few feet away, with a bouquet of red roses in his hand, Jey’s shadowed expression was as hard as stone. Without uttering a word, he moved back as silently as he had emerged and disappeared from sight, going back the way he came.

As though sensing another presence in the air, your paralysis snapped, and you jerked back, your eyes wide in surprise. “What the fuck, Cody!” you exclaimed, almost tripping over your own feet as you shot out of your chair.

It only now seemed to hit him, the full realization of what he had just done coming together in his mind. “Shit…Y/N I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he stammered over and over.

You studied the man in front of you, who was now staring back at you with a mixture of embarrassment and disappointment. This had to be a bad dream. Were you being Punk’d? “What was that? Why did you do that?” you demanded.

“I swear, I just…I thought I felt something between us, you know,” the American Nightmare answered sheepishly. “I thought you were just shy and wanted me to make the first move and…Fuck, how stupid am I?” He scratched the back of his head, pacing back and forth in front of you.

What?! “I’m sorry, but I don’t know where you got that from,” you said carefully but firmly.

He cringed at the look on your face. “I made you really uncomfortable, didn’t I? I am so sorry…I promise, I didn’t mean…”

“Yeah…I need some air.” Without waiting for him to respond, you stood up and walked out. You were reeling, desperate to make sense of what just happened.

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

What the fuck. What the fuck!

You leaned against the wall next to the Gorilla position, taking several deep breaths that only made your lungs feel tighter, shutting your eyes as the moment played over and over in your head. It had been half an hour since it happened, and you were still completely flabbergasted.

What the hell was Cody thinking? What in the world made him think you were attracted to him, so much so that he would kiss you?! How long had he been wanting to do that? Did you send any mixed signals to him? Yes, you’d spent a lot of time with him recently, but only because of his return and you assumed he was treating everyone the same way, catching up with old friends and acquainting himself with the new talent, like you.

What the fuck!

An icy feeling of dread gripped your stomach, and you swallowed hard as you recalled the first person that had popped into your mind when Cody kissed you. Jey. You felt like you betrayed him. Another man, a man who wasn’t him, had kissed you.

What the fuck!

You summoned the courage to leave Gorilla and stepped out to the entrance of the arena. Wrestlers and crew members were scattered around the empty arena where the ring was being set up, no one noticing you or the sense of complete disorientation that had gripped your being.

Sweeping the vast space with your eyes, you spotted the Bloodline brothers by the announce table, resting on the barricades, saying all sorts of goofy stuff into the microphones and making everyone laugh. You hesitated, but only for a moment, before making your way over to them. You had to tell Jey. It would be wrong to keep it from him, especially if you were going to be together. If you told him the truth, it would turn out fine. You were certain of it.

All four members of the Bloodline wore varied expressions as you stood amongst them; from Solo’s stoic mild curiosity, to Jimmy’s trepidation, to Roman’s passiveness - you would have thought they were watching completely different TV shows or movies. But it was your lover’s face that you honed in on, confused by why he was looking at you so coldly and with such...anger?

“Can we talk?” you said to him, your voice small and nervous.

And then it hit you. This was how Jey had glared at Sami during that now infamous Ucey promo. Mic in his hand, deliberating over Sami’s apology before ripping the Canadian to shreds with his acid tongue. By the time you realized you were about to receive the same treatment, it was too late.

Jey raised the mic to his lips. “Depends. You done suckin’ Cody’s face off yet?”

The air whooshed out of the arena. You went completely still, your eyes widening in stunned surprise. Your face sagged, your jaw dropping open on its own accord. How does he… Your mind struggled over what to process first; the horrifying fact that somehow, Jey had seen you and Cody…or the fact that he had just announced it to half the roster…You could still hear the reverberations of his words booming all around the arena.

Frantically, your eyes scanned his face, searching for a hint of the trademark dark humor that you’d become accustomed to from him. But there was no joking smile, no warmth. Instead, he regarded you with the same notion as something he had discovered on the bottom of his shoe. There was nothing in his eyes…no, wait, that wasn't true. There was something in the back of his gaze; it looked like…hurt. You felt your stomach disintegrate, as though a giant hand had grabbed it and was crushing it into powder.

A mocking grin touched the corners of the Tag champ’s mouth; your reaction had not been lost on him. Pushing off the barricade, his voice was cold and terse as he spoke. “Yeahhh, I saw y’all…in that little room backstage. You and Cody…Y’all were real cozy back there, making out and shit.”

A myriad of emotions swept through you; comprehension, confusion, panic. You didn’t know exactly what he saw, but you needed to set the record straight now.

“Jey," your voice came out as a squeak, and you chastised yourself for being so weak. "Jey, I can explain. What you saw-"

“I know what I saw, bitch. His tongue was down your fucking throat," he interjected, practically spitting out the words. “How long have you been fucking him, huh? Who’d you start fucking first, him or me?”

The way Jimmy’s jaw dropped was almost comical. Even Solo looked surprised. You forgot that Roman was the only member of the Bloodline who knew about you and Jey.

“I’ve never fucked Cody! What you saw back there was not what you think! I don’t know why he kissed me, but I didn’t kiss him back! I didn’t! If you really saw what happened then you’d have seen my reaction-”

“You got quite the nerve, standing there lying to my face like I’m some kinda punk. You got me fucked up. Tell me something, princess. Was I just a placeholder while you fucked around with Cody behind my back? Oh I get it, it’s because you think he better than me, right? He’s the bigger star, right? I know that’s how you get down. Clout is everything to you and you’d do anything…and anyone…to get it.”

Closing the distance between you, he got right in your face, his lips curled in a vicious snarl. "Did last week even mean...anything...to you… or were you just bullshittin' me the entire time?"

By now, you were surrounded by superstars from Raw and SmackDown alike, everyone gathering around to witness this mess. They all had the exact same reaction, thinking the exact same thing. You and Jey Uso, the two eternally warring bitter enemies…sleeping together?!

But you took no notice of any of them; no one except the man standing in front of you mattered. "Stop it, Jey! I did not kiss him! I’m telling the truth!” Your voice broke, as did your features, crumpling in misery. You moved forwards, reaching out to him. "Baby, please, listen to me…”

The second you touched his arm, something snapped inside him. "Don't! Don’t touch me!" he roared, swatting your hand away. You gasped and shrank back, but didn't tear your eyes from his face. You couldn’t even if you tried. His handsome face twisted in a sneer, his dark irises were filled with rage as they stared accusingly at you. “I trusted you! I opened up to you and you played me! Why the fuck you gotta do me like that? I told you so much about me, maybe too fuckin’ much…I fell-”

He turned away from you before he could finish, dragging a hand angrily down his face to calm himself down. When he looked back at you, the pain in the depths of his gaze was so raw you could almost taste it.

“I was right all along. You are a whore. An obnoxious, selfish, clout-chasing little bitch who thinks she can play with people’s lives and get away with it.”

“Jey, fuckin’ stop, man!” Jimmy ordered, coming between you and him. It was clear that everyone had heard too much already.

Jey didn’t take his eyes off you; you were seconds away from crumbling under his hateful stare. "A’ight. I’ll stop, Uce.” His tone was bitter and filled with the barest trace of sarcasm. “Matter of fact, I’ll stop all of this. All this shit ends right now, because I’m fucking done with you, princess.”

In spite of yourself, and the enormous wad of emotion in your throat, you felt a cold, dull anger take hold of you. This was uncalled for. No matter how ‘badly’ you treated him in the past, you didn't deserve this, this public humiliation, this unwarranted bile and venom. You weren’t going to take it and you were going to let him know.

“Fuck you!” you spat, your sudden outburst taking everyone by surprise, including Jey. “I’ve done nothing wrong! Don’t fucking stand there and call me a liar just because your feelings are hurt over nothing! You're being an ass for no reason and I’m not having it! I told you, I did not kiss Cody. Period. If you don’t believe me, then go fuck yourself! If anyone should be done with anybody, it’s me, Jey. I’ve had it with you and your bullshit, you fucking asshole!”

For a second, something flashed across his expression…a look of remorse, longing, even…but in the next, it hardened. That settled it for you. He had made up his mind, and you planned on making him regret it. Casting him one last deathly glare, you turned your back and weaved through the cluster of Superstars, who quickly parted to let you pass.

You walked away as fast as you could. You ignored Jimmy’s calls to come back and kept walking, back up the ramp, down the hallway, escaping outside to the parking lot, your heart cracking with every step you took. You could feel a cry building up inside of you; a loud, primal wail that would not stop if you permitted it to escape.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. It was a text message from Ryan Satin, a popular wrestling journalist you worked with on PLEs.

You need to see this, now.

You typed in the link to the website he sent you. Clicking the page, what you saw caused your jaw to drop. Your stomach plummeted and your heart began to race.

Photos of you and Jey at the airport, sitting on his lap in one and kissing in the other. Above the photos was the caption:

EXCLUSIVE: JEY USO AND Y/N SHARE STEAMY KISS AT AIRPORT. SEE PICTURES HERE.

END OF PART 2

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

Drama!😖😭

Thoughts? What did you think of Jey’s actions in the last scene? What about the rest of Part 2?

Please leave comments. I love comments!

Banner made by me. Credit to owners of the other pics and gifs.

#jey uso #jey uso imagines #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso fanfic #jey uso smut #the bloodline #the usos #the usos fanfic #jey uso x reader #jey uso x black reader #jey uso x black oc #jey uso x you #wwe #on sight by msbigredmachine

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damiansgoodgirll · 1 year

Note

Can you please write jey x jimmy x reader with what happened at summerslam? like reader is their younger sister and she was in the backstage watching jey fighting roman and watched jimmy turning his back on jey and then she confronts jimmy about it but in the end she sticks with jey please?

the usos x sister reader / rhea ripley x best friend reader

reader being dramatic is my mood

by his side

you were mad because you had no matches at summerslam. you and liv morgan were tag team champions and you were 100% you were going to defend your titles that night but to your surprise you weren’t booked for the night and that left you completely shocked.

rhea wasn’t going to defend her title either and to say that she was mad was almost like a compliment, no, she was furious. she was the woman’s champion, she had to defend her title but she wasn’t booked either and that left her shocked as you and liv were.

so you were all watching the show from backstage.

you had to be there, knowing that you’re older brother jey was going to face roman and you wanted to show him your support. you couldn’t wait for roman reign’s to end and you knew your brother had the possibility to make that happen.

you trained with him and you watched him train for the last month, and you knew he was more than ready to face roman.

you knew that your other brother solo was going to interfere and jey saw that possibility coming too, but he was ready to face solo in case he would attack him.

what you didn’t see coming was jimmy turning on your brother.

the twins, your favorite brothers splitting was the last thing you needed to see that night.

you were ready to go out there and fight jimmy, all you were seeing was black but rhea and liv had to hold you, knowing that you probably were going to cause a riot.

“you can’t go out there…” rhea whispered into your ear as she grabbed your wrist.

even if she was a heel and you and live were supposed to hate her, she was your best friend, and she knew that she had to stop you before you did something stupid.

“rhea this wasn’t supposed to happen!” you tried to free yourself from her grip but she was ten times stronger and in that moment you weren’t thinking straight.

“i know but please calm down…y/n, calm down” she held you tighter as you kept your eyes fixed on the screen.

not only jey was facing roman. he was facing solo and jimmy.

you were so mad at jimmy for doing that.

“rhea let me go…please…” you weren’t used to cry in front of other people but your brothers were involved.

“i can’t…you need to calm down, i can’t let you go outside, the production will stop you in any way if i let you go”

“i don’t care! i need to go out there and help jey!” you kept screaming, tears running down your cheecks.

rhea and liv never saw you like this. you were usually the happy and bubbly one in the group so seeing you crying like that was new for them.

“please calm down sweetie…” liv said while she guided you to the black leather couch that was in rhea’s changing room.

as you sat there watching the match, you felt unease, you almost felt sick and you couldn’t wait for the match to be over so you could go and comfort jey.

in your mind he was alone now. you were the only one left for him.

roman left. solo left, and now jimmy too.

you were living the rise and fall of your own family and what pained you the most was the fact that you couldn’t do anything to prevent that.

you left a soft breath when you saw the match ended. roman won but that was his plan from the beginning.

as you left the changing room, waiting for jey to come backstage, you saw jimmy walking right in front of you.

“jimmy!” you screamed his name and that made a few head to turn. rhea was still behind you, preventing you from attacking your own brother. jimmy ignored you but his heart broke a little when he saw the disappointment on your face “jimmy! what the fuck was that?” you kept screaming but he was ignoring you “jimmy, don’t fucking ignore me, come back here!” you started following him but rhea was like a magnet and she was blocking you from going after your bother “rhea let me go…”

“i’m not doing that…you’re not thinking straight right now”

“of course i’m not! haven’t you seen what the fuck just happened? that’s my family rhea and they’re fucking destroying each others!”

“i get it, i truly get it y/n, but you have to let things calm by themselves…you’re gonna cause more drama if you go after jimmy right now…” rhea explained to you and for a few seconds you saw her point of you but you were just so mad you couldn’t drop it.

“fine…” you said but you were only waiting for jey to come backstage.

no matter how sad or mad jey was, you knew that he would have never ignored you.

so you patiently waited for him and when you saw him, your heart broke completely. you never saw him so defeated.

“jey…” you went to hug him and he sadly smiled at you, a little relieved that you were there for him “i don’t know what has gotten into jimmy…i’m so sorry jey”

“you have nothing to apologise y/n…” he said, stroking a little your hair.

“he shouldn’t have done that…i just - i’m so mad jey! everything you’ve worked for, everything you trained for and just -just for jimmy to ruin it…”

“i wished i made everyone proud…i wish…man, i just wanted to win this, for you, for jimmy too, for my kids and the fans who expected this…but i lost…” he said, losing himself in your arms again.

the bond that the two of you shared was incredible. you were the little of the family and everyone felt super protective over you but jey always cared a little more, he was the one who swore that would never leave you, he was the one by your side during your first breakup and he was the one to comfort you everytime you felt you weren’t enough, so it was your time to stand by his side and showing him that you cared.

“you made me so proud jey…your family is proud of you too, never doubt that. i’m gonna stick by your side, always. don’forget that” you whispered, your lips turning into a soft smile.

he thanked you.

you could tell he was still heartbroken about what happened and that he needed time to process the event of the night but no matter what he knew that he could always count on you.

242 notes · View notes

lilywastaken · 2 years

Note

First of all I hope this is the request section second of all love your writings you’ve done so far <3 now to my request, I’ve been seeing way to many edits about dream in mr beast Antartica video. What if fem/reader went along with them and slept with in dream,sapnap, jimmy tent. It would be a dream x reader, friends to lovers or already a couple your choice :). Can’t wait to read more from you <3

⇝ARTIC COLD.

CC! DreamWasTaken x FEM!Reader.

SUMMARY: Spending 50 hours in Antarctica wasn't on your list of things to do this month, but neither was sharing a sleeping bag with your crush.

WARNINGS: Fluff, mentions of blood, illness (Dream's ill the whole time ☠️.), a lot of swearing!

A/N: My first request!! Thank you so much for it! <3 I chose the friends to lovers route with it, and kind of got carried away cause I love this idea (as you'll see)!! I'm actually really proud of this one, it might be my favourite piece of writing yet LMAO. Requests are still open!! Please don't forget to reblog/comment if you enjoy the post, it helps a lot!! Thank you all for the support! <33

WORD COUNT: 5.8K

MASTERLIST.

Also on ao3!

You were used to travelling at this point.

Living with some of the biggest content creators of the year and creating content yourself meant that you were always being invited to places, whether it be conventions or get-togethers with internet friends.

And although you were well acquainted with Karl and knew who he worked for, you had never expected to be invited to be part of one of Mr Beast's survival challenges alongside your roommates and his crew, and you would've been crazy to even imagine you'd be invited to travel to Antarctica of all places.

After living for half a year in one of the warmer states in the U.S., you didn't know how you were meant to survive below 0 degrees when all you had to wear were tank tops and the occasional long sleeved shirt.

Which meant you were stuck borrowing your roommates' big chunky jackets and sweaters that they had brought alongside them for the trip.

It wasn't as if you weren't used to borrowing clothes from them, hell, you were pretty sure most of your closet consisted of Dream's clothes that were too small to fit him anymore.

But that didn't make it any less embarrassing.

"You look like a penguin."

George snorted as soon as you stumbled out of the jet's tiny bathroom, sporting one of the many jackets you were required to wear before exiting the aircraft and stepping onto Antarctica.

"Go fuck yourself." You sneered back, zipping your coat up to your chin and shoving your hands into the pockets, somehow already feeling the chill from the outside despite not having landed yet. "I'm afraid I won't be able to look as stylish as you wish me to during our stay in fucking Antarctica."

"I think you look stylish enough." Clay teased cheekily as he walked up from behind you, large hands landing on your shoulders to manoeuvre you out of his way, causing you to roll your eyes long enough to cause a headache at the cockiness he was exhibiting simply because you had chosen to wear his clothes instead of anyone else's.

"You're just saying that because it's your jacket she's wearing." Nolan commented as Karl helped him zip up the last of the many coats he was wearing, a teasing tone in his voice.

"And she looks good in it, what's the issue?" Dream didn't seem to want to back down from their back and forth, as usually happened with those. When Nolan didn't respond, the blond turned his head around and shot you a grin along with a thumbs up, his silent way of boasting after one of his so-called wins.

"You're such an idiot." You muttered under your breath as Sapnap handed you one of the many scarves that were littered across the floor, and you for one were glad that you had something to cover your face, not wanting anyone to notice the warmth that had risen to your cheeks after your small interaction with Dream.

Despite you living with him for almost a full year, he had somehow never gotten the memo about your true feelings towards him, unlike both Sapnap and George and half of the goddamn internet, who were full-on convinced that you were head over heels for the previously faceless YouTuber, and to be fair, they weren't far off.

He'd been the first one to reach out after lurking around in your streams, the first one to invite you into their server and make an effort to include you into the ongoing lore, to add you to streams with his internet friends and therefore introduce you to the people who you now considered to be your best friends.

It was inevitable, really. After countless hours spent listening to each other's voices through your speakers and being one of the first people to see his face despite his initial fear of rejection, how could you not fall in love with him? He was perfect, from the way his nose crinkled when he smiled to the countless moles adorning his body, he was perfect.

It was stupid, really, how hard you'd fallen for someone who had started out as a simple stranger on the internet who happened to also play Minecraft to one of the people you loved the most.

And you were going to make sure that he'd never know how much you truly loved him, the chances of your confession ruining the friendship you both had built too high to even consider.

"Why are you guys just standing around, we're about to land!" Jimmy came out of the cockpit, clapping his hands together and ushering everyone towards their luggage in an effort to get you to get ready quicker. "Come on! I don't want any of you catching frostbite and dying on me!"

"Wait, that's possible!?"

Despite all the layers of clothing Dream was currently sporting, he somehow managed to feel your hand wrap around his elbow, shuffling closer to his taller build as you readied to exit the aircraft.

"You okay?" He pulled his ski mask down below his lips so he could send you a reassuring smile, his juniper eyes obscured by the ski goggles that sat snuggly on his face.

"Yep. Totally okay. Totally not freaking out because we're about to spend 50 hours in the coldest place on earth. Totally fine, Clay." Your words came out of your mouth almost at the speed of light as your gloved hands fumbled with the scarf around your neck, receiving a laugh from the blond in response.

"Calm down. I doubt Jimmy will actually let us die, okay?" He moved your hands away from your face and fixed your problem himself, the smile on his lips only growing as his fingers brushed against your warming cheeks, a huge contrast to the cold air swirling outside.

"And if you do, just make sure to tell everyone to like and subscribe, okay?" A small 'oof!' left you as Chandler slammed his hands on your shoulders from behind, getting a slightly angered glare from Dream and a few giggles from the others at his action.

"Fuck you, man." You smiled, the sweet yet very brief encouragement you'd received lifting your spirits almost immediately.

But they were swiftly dampened as the doors opened, and holy fucking shit, you'd underestimated how cold it was going to be.

The sun was shining onto your small group, but not a single trace of warmth was felt on your skin, and oh god what you'd give to be back home curled underneath your bed covers holding Patches in your arms.

Jimmy didn't spare a single second to start the challenge, already heading over to the spot he'd claimed would be perfect for the makeshift camp that would be your home for the next two days.

Luckily, you'd been tasked with carrying one of the lighter pieces of luggage, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't almost busted a lung laughing whenever you saw one of the boys slip or trip and fall flat on their faces, but you did stop every time Dream stopped to cough, knowing he had caught a chill right before boarding the plane and the freezing temperatures you were being forced to travel through would likely do him no good.

After surviving a surprise blizzard and almost slipping a few times, you finally reached the spot Jimmy had marked in his mental map. You were almost ready to collapse into the soft looking snow, but of course, you were forced to put up the tents you'd be staying in, which proved even more difficult than propping up a normal tent in the woods, thanks to the never ending wind and slippy snow.

But as soon as you were allowed into the safety of the main tent, you curled into a ball in the corner and fought with your gloves to turn on your phone, which barely worked due to the cold.

"What the fuck are you trying to do with that?" Sapnap groaned as he fell to the ground in front of you, spying at the device in your hands as if he were some sort of prehistoric man and this was his first contact with fire. "You're an actual imbecile if you think there's going to be even a sliver of reception here."

You stuck your tongue out to him and moved to kick his side with your snow boots, snickering in victory as he finally moved away from you, leaving an empty spot at your side as Jimmy started to take out the strange contraptions that were required to make food in such extreme weather, but you were too tired to listen in to his explanation.

"Made you something." You visibly cringed at the sound of Dream's groggy voice before he came into view, ski mask and goggles abandoned so you could see clearly how red and runny his nose was, gloves off so he could hand you the warm packet of food he claimed to have made.

"Didn't know you were a Rudolph cosplayer.", You commented on his appearance with a sly smile, almost dropping the food as you felt him curl into your side, head falling onto your shoulder with a shaky moan of pain, clearly not amused by your attempt at a joke. "You okay?"

"No. Not okay." He whined, his warm breath hitting your neck from where his head was situated and causing goosebumps to form, your body still not used to this much proximity with him. "I feel like shit. Like… worse than shit."

You'd normally roll your eyes at such a statement, but you knew now that he was telling the truth, you'd seen the blood he coughed up the day before during your stay in Chile, and you knew that a cold could quickly turn into something way worse given the time.

You were ready to offer him help with whatever he needed, but you were cut off before you could even begin as you saw his mouth open wide from the corner of your eye.

"Wh-"

"Feed me." He attempted to say without closing his mouth, soft eyes looking up at you through his long eyelashes with a pleasing look. "C'mon. Hungry."

You tried to ignore the head creeping up your neck as you reached into the bag with the plastic spoon to scoop up some of the now lukewarm food out and into his mouth, watching as he closed his mouth around the spoon and gulped, moaning softly at the taste.

"Holy shit that might actually be the best thing I've ever tasted." He opened his mouth again, waiting for you to shovel a bit more food into his mouth.

"Oh, so what you said about my pesto was a lie?" You said, pouting in mock sadness as you repeated your action, shoving the spoon into his mouth a bit too hard and making him choke, but before you could apologise, he shook his head, answering your previous accusation.

"Okay, second best. Your cooking skills put this delicious cold goop to shame." He joked between a few chews, nudging you slightly with his shoulder. "You know that."

"Ah, so you're comparing my food to this?" You raised the bag in question and shook it a bit to further your point, trying your best to not burst out laughing at how panicked he looked as he tried to explain himself; a frown etching onto his face as you finally broke and let out a soft giggle.

"You're making fun of me." He finally seemed to realise as you nodded in response, about to shove some snow in your face if it weren't for the spoon that was shoved into his mouth and the puppy eyes you shot in his direction.

"Truce?"

The gulp he made was enough of a response for you.

Once the spoon you had used for Dream was well disposed of (you didn't want to risk getting ill yourself), you started eating some of the food yourself, Dream's head still snugly resting on your shoulder as he watched your every movement, making small talk every now and then and joining in on the conversations the others were having.

"Okay, it's like… almost midnight." Jimmy commented as he stared down at his watch, everyone staring back at him with the same bewildered expression, since the sun was still shining down onto your small camp. "We gotta get to bed."

"But it's still sunny outside!" Karl whined, pulling back the entrance slap to stare outside for a split moment, everyone immediately shouting at him for letting the cold in.

"And it's going to stay like that! Did the American school system fail you this badly!? Haven't you lot learnt about Antarctica? The sun is always up here!" George exclaimed in frustration, already zipping up his jacket, urging everyone else to abandon their food and do the same.

"Exactly! So let's get into our tents and try to get some rest, okay?" Jimmy encouraged, trying his best to keep everyone's morale up, picking up his sleeping bag and waiting for everyone to be ready before opening the tent.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You heard Sapnap curse as he followed his group into the tent with their sleeping bags, your own pressed to your chest for extra warmth until you reached the tent you'd be staying in, quickly making yourself at home on the right side.

"Dibs!" You didn't even try to hide the amusement in your voice as you slammed your bag and belongings onto the plastic ground, immediately starting to zip down the giant coat you'd been wearing.

"Yeah, yeah." Jimmy rolled his eyes with a smile as he and Nolan claimed the left side, leaving Dream standing at the entrance in confusion, staring at the empty spot beside your sleeping bag as if it was an abomination of nature.

His brain hadn't seemed to comprehend that he'd be sleeping next to you when you confessed you'd feel safer sleeping in the same tent as him, he had simply assumed you'd be sleeping next to Nolan or Jimmy, not him.

"You okay, dude? You're letting in all the cold." Your voice snapped him out of the daze he had been in, rapidly nodding instead of answering since he really didn't trust his voice to work right then.

Once the tent was zipped up tight, he awkwardly shuffled towards you, watching intently as you pushed your jackets off, which left you in the tight shirt all of you wore beneath the heaps of coats.

His hands shook as he undid his sleeping bag, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the cold or because of how close to you he was going to be in a few minutes.

And he didn't know why this was affecting him so much, he'd been cuddled up into your side less than an hour ago, and he wouldn't be able to count the times you'd crawled into his bed back home after a nightmare or if you were being too lazy to make the few steps that it took from his room to yours. He'd had you in his arms, hell, he'd felt the warm skin of your waist beneath his open palms that one time he helped you decorate the Christmas tree, so why was this different?

Maybe he was deluded.

That's probably right, his cold had gotten so bad that it was affecting his senses, which meant he was now super fucking awkward around you and wanted nothing more than to hide his face in the crook of your neck and feel once again your warm skin bene-

What?

What the fuck?

What the actual fuck?

He froze in his tracks as he stopped his train of thought from going any further, his face heating up as he reviewed the thoughts about you that seemed to have infiltrated his mind.

Well…. it wasn't like he hadn't ever thought about you like that, it was sort of inevitable. You were one of his closest friends, (maybe his closest, but don't tell George that.) and yeah, maybe once in a while he had thought about kissing you, about threading his fingers through your hair and tracing every feature on your pretty face while you laid in his arms.

And… and maybe he had told himself that all those times you had come to him at night for comfort or had stayed in his arms while watching a movie, were nothing but platonic, that you would probably do the same with Sapnap or George (despite the absolute fucking jealousy he felt brewing inside of him at the thought of you lying in their arms instead of his.) and the moments you spent talking about everything and anything at the same time weren't reminiscent to all of his past relationships, because this wasn't a relationship! He was your best friend! Not some creep that was in love with the girl who trusted him the most! Nope! No way.

He nodded to himself in confirmation as he finally finished setting up his sleeping bag, flopping down onto it with an angered huff, ignoring the amused look you sent in his direction.

"You're going to sleep like that?" You questioned, poking his side teasingly, causing him to yelp and move away from your touch as if it was poison as quickly as he could, snapping his head down to look at his outfit.

His cheeks went even redder (if humanly possible) as he realised he had been this close to falling asleep in full Antarctica tactical gear, quickly shoving all of his layers off so he was in the tight shirt your two other tent-mates were also wearing.

"You're so stupid." You snorted at him with a fond smile, turning around on top of your makeshift bed to pick up your phone and some earphones you'd been smart enough to bring. "Downloaded some anime Karl recommended, you want to watch an episode before we sleep?" You offered, making sure your voice was low enough that it didn't disturb Jimmy or Nolan, who were busy talking to the cameraman; lifting an earbud in one hand and waving it around enticingly.

"Y-Yeah, why not?" He smiled back at you, awkwardly shuffling towards you and keeping his distance because he was your friend who respected your boundaries and definitely did not like you.

He sputtered out a whine as you rolled your eyes and pulled his sleeping bag flush against yours, forcing him to sit right next to you, arm to arm, leg to leg and foot to foot. He raised a shaking hand to pop in the earbud you handed to him and tried his best to focus on the screen and not on how fucking warm your skin felt against his, how cute you sounded when you let out a short snort or a low giggle, how pretty you looked from the side with the glow of your phone reflecting your features.

Fuck.

You, for one, were actually enjoying the show at hand (despite only having one earbud, but that didn't matter.), and not focusing on how close Dream was to you, something you were learning to do after all the times you'd spent curled into his side at his bed back home.

You hadn't really thought about how the sleeping arrangements would work back on the plane, you were more concerned about the plastic device Jimmy had shoved into your hand and tried his best to explain how it was supposed to help you use the restroom.

But now that you were given the time to breathe, you finally realised how close you'd be to him, the thought enough to make you want to shove your face into a pillow and scream into it like a schoolgirl, just like every time you ended up in his arms.

Before the episode could finish, the cameraman left after filming a bit of Jimmy and Nolan, the latter escorting him out and turning back around, his gaze flicking down to your sleeping bag.

"Ah, shit, your bag's ripped."

"What?" You let your phone fall onto your lap and leaned over your legs to grab at the end of what would've been your bed if it weren't for the giant gash that had split the bottom in half, exposing your socks to the outside. "Fuck! Jimmy!"

The man in question popped his head up from where he was lying down, surveying the damage before biting the inside of his cheek in thought, scratching his chin.

"Uh… I don't think we've got any spares. Are… Are you okay with sharing or something? I mean, you know Karl, he'll probably be up all night so you can probably take his or share…?"

Dream didn't want to admit how horrible the thought of you leaving his tent to share with Karl was and how disgusting he felt as the jealousy grew in a pit of his stomach as he kept on thinking about it.

"Uh-" You looked down at the threads hanging out of the tear, shrugging your shoulders as you silently agreed. "I mean… as long as Karl's okay with it…? I don't mind."

"Great! Here, let me hel-"

"You can just share with me."

Dream's groggy voice cut off Jimmy's enthusiastic one, causing all of the tent to snap their head into his direction, as if you had forgotten he was there.

"That's fine, right?"

"Yeah!" You cried out a bit too eager, quickly coughing and changing your tone of voice to a more mellow one. "Yeah, that's fine."

"Oookay! That's actually better. A lot of people huddle close for heat here so let's see if you help Dream with that cold of his, eh?" Jimmy nodded, slipping his sleep mask back down his face and lying down, leaving you and Dream wide awake and staring at each other, Nolan having slipped into his bag during your awkward conversation.

"Here." Dream got up and tried his best to pull the sleeping bag open to make more space, waiting patiently for you to unzip your snow boots and put on some fuzzy socks you'd manage to snag in Chile before taking the plane.

"Thanks," You mumbled quietly, awkwardly moving to a side of the bag so Dream would be able to fit in next to you. "For holding it open. And uhm, for offering. I really didn't want to leave the tent, plus, with Karl, Sapnap and George I doubt I'd get any sleep."

Dream snorted in affirmation, aware of how dangerous they were when put together, and he couldn't even imagine how powerful they'd be when contained in such a small space. It was his turn to throw off his boots (not even bothering to unzip them first), and quickly shove himself into the bag next to you in hopes of keeping the warmth his feet had previously been in.

After a bit of shifting and moving limbs, you finally got into a comfortable position, your body draped over his side to preserve warmth with an arm wrapped around you waist with the other tracing random shapes into the arm that was sprawled across his chest, something he subconsciously did every time you were in his arms in such a position.

"This is nice." He mumbled, half joking, half serious.

"Mhm." You hummed, not trusting yourself enough to form proper sentences, carefully resting your head onto his shoulder and tickling his cheek with your hair.

A few moments passed in the same position, Dream's warm hand rubbing circles onto your waist in an attempt to soothe your nerves, knowing how stressed you probably felt without having to ask. You almost melted in his touch as he moved his head to rub his nose into your hair, closing his eyes with a sigh.

"It's impossible to sleep." He finally broke the silence with the muttered sentence, making you giggle and hide your face further into his shoulder.

"Don't you have an eye mask?" You mumbled from your spot, voice muffled by his shirt, feeling him shift beneath you until his hands left you to pull what you assumed was the eye mask down to his face.

"Forgot about it." He grumbled, warm hands finding their spot back onto your body and continuing their ministrations on your skin, lulling you quickly to sleep, feeling as if your head had been stuffed with cotton, tired enough to ignore everything around you, especially the quiet confession that came from Dream's lips and the soft kiss that was pressed to your forehead, leaving it to be a secret of the night.

You were woken up rather abruptly, the tent opening and Karl's high pitched laugh coming in along with the cold air, making everyone in the tent groan in discomfort and move beneath the covers to preserve the warmth, including you two, who during the night seemed to have moved into a different position, your face pressed right into Dream's chest with his chin resting on the crown of your head, his hands cupping the pudge of your thighs as they wrapped around his waist, thumb rubbing in circles like he had done last night with your waist, quickly soothing you back to sleep.

"I'm going to kill you, Karl!" Nolan shouted from his bag as the boy rolled into the tent, Sapnap following close behind with a disposable camera, not trusting his phone enough in such a weather.

"You got it?"

"Yep."

Sapnap made sure the flash was off, not wanting either of you to fully wake up and ruin the moment, before snapping a few pictures of Dream and you cuddled beneath the top layer of his sleeping bag, keeping their giggles and snickers to a low before leaving the tent with a nice reminder of what had happened beneath you.

"Told you it was smart to bring a knife." Sapnap pointed to your discarded sleeping bag with a grin before fully exiting the tent, not without letting in a gust of cold wind.

That seemed to finally snap you out of your sleep, groaning softly as you wriggled in Dream's arms, stopping in your tracks as he let out an incoherent grumble and brought you closer into his arms, as if you were a simple teddy bear and not his best friend who had totally overstepped a line by actually fucking wrapping her legs around his waist as if he were your boyfriend!

"Clay." You whispered as you faced him, moving a hand to push a few of his curls out of the way of his closed eyes and observe the freckles splattered across his skin like stars in the night sky, your finger tracing the short invisible lines between all of them. "Wake up…"

"Hmng…" His hold on you tightened for a moment before returning back to normal, his way of pleading for you to give up and slip back into his arms.

"Claaayy~" you said a bit louder, pressing your finger into the tip of his nose in hopes of getting him to wake faster. "Come on, we've still got a whole day left."

"Do you think I'm actually well enough to do something?" He finally spoke, and you almost jumped at how much worse his voice sounded than last night, but that was a given due to the cold and the mix between his already muzzy voice and the deep tone his morning voice normally took. "Just stay here with me for a while…"

"But I'm well enough to do something, Clay." You mumbled, letting your arm fall by your side and attempting once again to escape his grip, smiling softly as he didn't fight this time and let you slip out easily.

You didn't make any further effort to wake him up again, giving him the luxury of sleeping in a bit longer and getting yourself ready to leave the tent, despite how warm his hold had been and how you truly wanted nothing more than to slip right into his hold and wrap your arms around him.

But you fought the urge to, exiting the warmth of your tent and rushing towards where Karl and George were building a snowman (although it wasn't much of a snowman due to Karl slipping and falling onto it every few minutes.), and offering to assist them.

Ignoring the cold and the fact you didn't have anything to decorate the so-called snowmen with, you actually had fun with them, having said goodbye to Nolan and Jimmy before they left to "claim a mountain" a few hours ago; and you were now left with four snowmen without features, so they really couldn't be called snowmen at all.

"I think it looks pretty good!" Karl hummed as he finished rolling one of the bigger parts of his snowman.

"It's just three balls of snow on top of each other, Karl." George deadpanned as he moved his goggles to see the abominations you three had made.

"I think it looks a bit like you." You stuck your tongue out at George, who returned the gesture before the both of you realised how cold it was to be doing it and quickly returned your tongues back into your mouths.

After making some food and welcoming Jimmy and Nolan back, you spent some time with Dream outside (despite how much your body was screaming at you to get somewhere warm.), and threw a few snowballs at each other, last night's events never discussed or mentioned during your conversations.

You finally realised how much time you had spent outside when Chandler announced the plane would be here in almost two hours, the fact you'd spent almost a day in the freezing snow enough to frighten you into getting frostbite.

"If my fingers fall off I want you to have them, Dream." You confessed to him as you both worked on taking down your tent, giddiness filling you at the loud laugh he let out, nodding his head with a smile beneath his ski mask.

"Yes ma'am, I'll make sure to cherish them until I die." He teased back, shoving whatever remained of the tent into a bag and wrapping some of the rope around it, letting you admire for a moment how strong he truly was before Sapnap called you over to help him with the rubbish.

You didn't have much time to talk as Jimmy hurried you all back to where you had started, where the plane was waiting in all its glory, and holy shit you couldn't wait to be back inside.

You almost tripped on the stairs from how desperate you were to get inside if it weren't for Dream's hands holding you up from behind, knowing how excited you were to get back into the warm safety of the aircraft.

You collapsed into one of the window seats with a loud dramatic exhale, closing your eyes for a moment to enjoy the warmth of the leather chairs and the exaggerated smell of the air freshener that was wafting along the main cabin.

"Fucking finally, right?" Dream laughed after shoving both your luggage into the upper compartments, knowing you'd probably be too exhausted to do it yourself after barely catching any sleep in the last 24 hours, and falling into the empty seat next to you.

"I never thought I'd say this, but…" you turned to look at him dramatically, his heart beating rapidly at your serious expression and words until you spoke. "I actually miss Florida."

He breathed out a sigh of relief along with a laugh, nodding his head in agreement as he moved his hand to wrap around yours, heart fluttering as you didn't even stop him from doing so.

"I can't wait to wear some shorts and a tank top and still be hot." You mumbled with a smile, turning your head to a side to make eye contact with him. "Although it'll probably be a bit too cold for that."

"Yeah, you never know with Floridan winters." He snorted, interlacing your fingers with his and moving to look out the window. "As long as I'm out of this coat, I'll be fine."

It was your turn to laugh, nodding your head in affirmation, and shifting on the seat to rest your head on his shoulder, much like he had done when you had first entered the tent.

Silence filled your little corner of the plane until he finally spoke, turning to you completely and making you lose the balance you previously had.

"You uh… did you hear what I said? Last… uh, last last night?"

You cocked your head to a side like a confused puppy would, shaking your head, a no.

"Uh… well… Shit I'm really going to regret this." He breathed out as a laugh, raising his free hand to pull off his ski mask and ruffle up his curls. "I… I kind of, well… kissed your forehead. And said I- I love you."

Your brain short circuited at his words, blankly staring into his eyes as if your body had stopped just so your mind could make any sense of what he was saying.

"In a non-platonic way."

"In a non-platonic way." You parroted, blinking like a fool as you watched him panic underneath your gaze.

"Yeah."

"Oh."

Silence once again filled your little corner, both of your hands still intertwined and both your gazes locked together, Dream's whole body ready to give out if you didn't give him an answer soon.

"Please say somet-"

"I love you too." Your confession cut him off, his mouth hanging open with unsaid words ready to come out, looking something akin to a fish out of water gasping for air.

"O-Oh!" He breathed out, his body finally catching up to his brain as he nodded at your confession, cheeks pink from both embarrassment and illness. "Holy shit."

"Holy shit." You echoed once again, although this time you ended it with a small breathless giggle, raising your free hand to cup his cheek, stubble pricking your palm and cold skin meeting warm.

"I really want to kiss you right now." He confessed, half closed eyes searching for your gaze as his hand came up to cover yours over his cheek. "But I don't want to get you sick."

You smiled at his pout, shrugging your shoulders as you nodded down towards your fingers. "There's no way I'm not getting sick after that, Clay. It's fine. I want to kiss you too."

He nodded faster than the speed of light as you started to pull him down, pressing your lips to his for a moment that felt like eternity, and oh god, it was better than you imagined. It felt as if fireworks were going off in your head, sending shivers down your spine and lighting every nerve within you on fire, his breath against your lips as he pulled back from them almost burning your skin from how much you wanted to press them back onto his.

"Holy shit."

And by the sounds of it, you hadn't been the only one affected ridiculously by the kiss.

"Can we do that more often?" Dream basically vibrated in his seat at the prospect of being able to repeat that experience, his smile only growing when you nodded your head, a matching one pulling at your lips.

"Yes. Yes please."

968 notes · View notes

mewtwo24 · 1 year

Text

MAWS - An Allegory for Autism, too?

God like…there have been so many amazing posts about maws right now, and I don’t want to detract from any of them because I absolutely agree with how powerful an allegory the show is in regards to being an immigrant/alien.

But at the same time I just. I have been literally losing my mind at how autistic Clark feels. And at this point I can’t tell if I’m seeing things that aren’t there or he really is just so god damn ‘tism it makes his experiences of being othered two- and triplefold.

Like. Okay. He keeps acting on what he thinks is just or morally right in the moment, but sometimes struggles to see the social signals (or bigger picture) that might indicate somebody is deceiving him. If he does realize he’s being deceived, he does the right thing anyway even if it’s to his detriment--because he can’t accept looking away from a problem he might have resolved. Helping someone, no matter how difficult or unreasonable.

Okay.

When he’s trying to protect himself from Lois. He tells the truth in the most evasive way humanly possible, and because he thinks she’ll find him dashing from saving people he comes off as dissembling. He is convinced that he has charmed her to no end with his alter ego since he’s Such A Super Cool Strong Normal Guy as Superman, and that she couldn’t possibly be suspicious any longer because he told the truth. Lois wants to throttle him for lying. He has no idea as to why that is--and is openly surprised that she’s upset.

This is not even touching the fact that he lived for YEARS with Jimmy and literally destroyed stuff in front of him by accident, and never once thought Jimmy knew some shit was going on with him. Jimmy, being subtle and considerate, didn’t snitch because he was a homie. Clark does not notice in the slightest. ‘IT COULD HAVE BEEN THE SCREWS’ ASS.

This also not touching on the “How did you know you were bulletproof?” “I didn’t. I just knew you weren’t.” Despite pervasive signs that his powers weren’t operating as they should in that area. Despite knowing Lois was still upset with him and may not forgive him, could hurt him with what she knew.

Okay.

I'm going to put the rest under a cut because I never go on short tangents:

In a lot of New Age illegitimate medicine and psychological constructs, autistics are often conceptualized as people with ‘special powers’ or religious enlightenment in accordance with some manifestations of their disability. Clark’s superspeed and strength and heat vision can EASILY be seen as an extension of that. However, what I really want to talk about is the latest episode’s super hearing.

Most autistics have sensory issues, both with textures but also with hearing. A very common surprise for undiagnosed individuals, for example, is that they use music and headphones to stim in a more socially acceptable way. Particularly loud noises or constant loud chatter can cause distress otherwise, and having constant meltdowns/catatonia reactions isn’t feasible for survival.

Of all his powers that might be a weakness I think it is a fascinating--and honestly, deliberate--choice that speaks volumes (please pardon the pun). Because that’s the horrible thing about having sensory overload with your hearing; you don’t always have a choice as to what you’re subjected to. Ear-piercing alarms can flare at any moment, people can play what they consider harmless pranks, or day to day fighting to focus can make every sound feel like nails on a chalkboard from the overstimulation.

While Clark is able to distinguish voices if he knows what to look for, lack of sleep and rest tremendously weaken his ability to focus. I noticed that as the episode wore on, there was a distinct and exponential progression. At first, when he overdid it and didn’t sleep for a day or so, he still managed to operate without hurting himself or risking others. But as he kept pushing himself without rest to answer every cry for help, he grew progressively and sharply overwhelmed. He quickly became overstimulated by the mounting flurry of oncoming stimuli (e.g. the truck about to hit someone, dodging people around him, the relentless super hearing flooding in) and began to react in ways that were careless and random.

Though his powers appear supernatural and inexhaustible, we are forced to face the fact that he still possesses hard limits. Even if autistics seem more capable than NTs at points, there is a reason “high-functioning” became an obsolete terminology with which to differentiate people on the spectrum ‘who seemed to be above average’. Because just as we see Clark forcing himself to exert his superpowers until his body collapses to prove he is good, autistics also push themselves to be useful/helpful/amenable/inobtrusive in order to be accepted as something not other/monstrous.

(Please note, by the way, towards the end of the newest episode--his power comes out in a flash of blue, overpowering light as the last of his strength begins to wane. A surefire sign that he was truly at the end of his endurance before he’s knocked unconscious.)

The fact that Clark starts to learn how to listen in for people so fast, but also doesn’t think to tune them out (if he can) adds even more to the first point too. Because he can’t turn it off in full, it means he has no way to ignore people who are hurting no matter how small--and for him that places the cognitive burden of making a choice. And he can’t choose not to help people.

Okay.

Clark’s incipient refusal to discover more about himself, the sheer overwhelmed look he had as a child--but also as an adult--at the prospect of having to rewrite and re-evaluate everything he thought he knew about himself. There is no excitement, no positive anticipation. When he chooses to face it, it’s because he perceives a kind of responsibility to better understand/control his powers to help more people. And it’s because his friends support him that he ever finds the will to do it. He has no desire to acknowledge or define his otherness head-on. (Once again, he can only act with courage on behalf of others and/or to ultimately win their acceptance.)

GOD. AND. AND how he tells Lois how much she made him “come out of his shell” and forced him to face the world, to stop living in his formerly simple bubble. How autistics instinctively hate breaks in routine and the unknown and the horrible ordeal of change, especially if they have trauma linked to it. But he was trying because yeah, as people we need new and varying stimuli to be happy and healthy. To be alive is to change, whether one likes it or not.

How part of the reason Lois is so dear to him is because she makes him feel capable and safe when he has to face the truth of his difference and change. (THIS IN THE CONTEXT OF THE LATEST EPISODE. “CLARK, JUST TRY TO BE NORMAL”. I’M EATING MY SHIRT. THE ENDLESS OSCILLATION BETWEEN HIS DESPERATION TO BE NORMAL BUT ALSO STRIVE FOR MORE, AND HOW LOIS ANSWERS BOTH THOSE WARRING CALLS WITHIN HIM JUST BY BEING HERSELF.)

SCREAMS.

Okay.

The most recent episode being a direct result of Lois and Jimmy’s acceptance of his alter ego Superman. Because of course Superman is the preferred variation of himself. Everyone loves Superman. Everyone finds him cool and heroic and dazzling. Jimmy gets social media acclaim that he enjoys from it. Lois has a Cool Guy Boyfriend, and she told him outright she thinks he’s amazing in the last episode when he complained about being weird.

Why go back to being Clark? Under the unending burden of his new super hearing, he seems to be so drowned in voices that he forgets a very important one: Lois. She loved him as Clark long before Superman existed, the lumbering gentle giant who always treated people with dignity and respect was more than enough for her to fall in love. And that’s why it’s so poignant, but also so unbelievably devastating when she asks him to be normal in the newest episode.

Because what she was trying to say was “Please stop overexerting yourself, you’re hurting yourself. This is only going to end badly if you don’t rest and think about how you want to move forward. You’re enough as you are. You’re enough as Clark Kent.” She was trying to tell him that Superman isn’t all that matters, that Superman is a person with feelings and needs and vulnerabilities, just like anyone else.

What makes this miscommunication so powerful to me is that it’s clear Clark’s ability to differentiate has become confused ever since Lois and Jimmy accepted him. How much of him is Clark, how much of him is Superman? Before, when he had decided Superman was too much for him to handle and something that needed to stay hidden, he knew how to behave day to day. But now that the aforementioned operating precept has been dismantled by their acceptance, what is his blueprint now? To be freed of his chains, but to be too afraid to leave the cage--he becomes so openly and rapidly lost. It was easier when he didn’t have to choose or think about it.

Okay.

Like. I can see how it could be construed as a result of his inexperience, right? He’s never met intergalactic beings, so how would he know? He only just unlocked his powers as Superman, so of course he’s clumsy about it. He wasn’t a born fighter or a trained one, so of course he’s going to be a little green when he’s in combat.

But that’s the thing for me. It’s not that he doesn’t always have the time to re-evaluate, or strategize, or notice he’s being deceived. He just has such an unwavering sensibility, this one-track sense of “I am strong. So I must protect. And to do that I need to act.” And a lot of times this is as far as his thinking goes. And if that isn’t the most autistic shit imaginable, I’m really not sure what is.

The overshot clumsiness of his movements and occasional awkwardness, how he’s learned to smooth that over by being helpful to people or meek to be accepted. Like. I swear to god this show is going to kill me.

So much of the reason he tanked so badly in this episode was because he was using a broken coping mechanism to its absolute extreme. And instead of listening to his bodily and mental signals that he could no longer sustain helping every single person in the world, he just forces himself to push through. He’s so desperate to prove he’s a good person and belong, he doesn’t notice that it’s literally destroying him from the inside.

The mask that is Superman, and the unmasking that is the mindful and imperfect Clark Kent. That everyone adores Superman and wants him to fulfill their every need, no matter what it costs him to be that person. The fact that the moment they learn he’s an alien or see the raw extent of his power (pushed to unsustainable limits in desperation) he becomes a horrible, inhuman threat and a monster. The fact that it’s his friends and his family who see him unmasked as Clark and love him just as he is, that they care little for what Superman can give them because Clark is already enough. That they love Clark precisely BECAUSE he is somebody with weaknesses and flaws and imperfections, that adore his quirks and endearing fumbling.

The horrific reality that the more he leans into his masking out of desperation to be accepted, the more he estranges and incites violent rejection in the people around him. Even if he wants to do the right thing, he is so staunchly and too openly opposed to the malice of others that they hold grudges from the stark, exposing contrast. How choosing to be Superman can endanger and estrange the people who love Clark, isolating him even further. And yet when he is unmasked and acts like himself, he is hardly ever taken seriously or people take advantage of his meekness/willingness to help.

The first episode. When he just keeps chanting ‘be normal be normal be normal’ and the more pressure he puts on himself, the more he hyperfixates and the less his actions align with his intentions. The way he can never do both and can only manage to sustain one at a time. The core conflict that’s ever present; the desire to be ordinary under the reality that you are extraordinary, with the agonizing knowledge that you never had the choice to live under so much difference and scrutiny.

The never-ending autistic battle of being socially acceptable to the detriment of your greatest virtues: your passion and your honesty. To be left feeling empty and drained despite your success, no closer to self-satisfaction or feelings of human camaraderie. The reality of being always forced to choose between one bad option and a worse one, that the only choice you have is what you’re willing to sacrifice. That people will toy with your vulnerabilities no matter how desperately you try to conceal them, how your weaknesses will be a game or a spectacle to the rest of the world.

How one has to wonder to what degree the Superman witnessed in Lois’ memory capsule was pushed to the very brink. Or the pointed lack of context: what brought him to such extremes, what could inspire so much indifference to the pain of others? How, while it is frightening, he is a person just like anyone else--who possesses the potential for raw good and raw bad. Why is it that everyone so easily believes that his potential will be negative? Why is it so difficult to have faith in someone who is trying so hard to be good?

The irony of Clark’s predicament, that the sincere fulfillment he feels upon helping others is precisely what inspires fear in those who insist on their comparative self-serving normality.

“What’s your angle!? What’s in it for you?” “Trust me, kids. Nobody puts on that big a show of being good. Unless they’re hiding something…All he wants is to pull cats out of trees? Yeah, I’m not buying it.” “He’s not normal like you and me….If he really wanted to hurt us, what could we do about it?...Just him having a bad day could spell the end for us…Well, not all of us share your faith.” “You want to be number one? You don’t get there by writing fluff. You go for blood. That’s something Perry never understood. Do you?”

The unbearable but inevitable fact that being autistic is a perpetual experience of loss. If you are not selfish or egocentric like the rest of the world, you are naive and weak. If you exhibit an ounce of self-centered desire or emotion, you are something that must be eradicated for the greater good. No amount of good that you accomplish can ever balance the scales of what has been lost or spent to sustain you, because at the end of the day your life is considered one without value. It is irrelevant that entire military regimes have collectively decimated and endangered thousands for their so-called “results”, because you as a sole actor are so much easier to blame and trample.

The enduring fact, especially in a culture so absorbed in easy answers and harsh binaries, that the human mind does not care for the struggle of truth.

Anyway if you need me I’ll be clawing at the walls thanks

#my adventures with superman #maws #i just haven't been able to stop thinking about this #its like the newest episode made it impossible to question any longer #i hope this made sense to someone???? other than me #is it obvious that this weeks episode made me cry a little haha #stares into the distance So Normally #the way experiencing maws clark kent can be something so personal...

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frozenjokes · 4 months

Text

The Art Of Being Kidnapped [1/2]

next / Ao3 link with CWs

“Byeeee! Have a nice time!” Tango’s cheery lilt echoed across the icy cavern before the metal door, built like a vault, slammed shut. A superhero Jimmy didn’t recognize rolled across the slick floor, momentum from being thrown inside carrying him a considerable distance. Sometimes Jimmy forgot Tango was quite strong; certainly not the beefiest among his line of work, but enough to send a small avian skidding across the floor of his dungeon.

The avian’s wings and hands were bound, just like Jimmy’s were, but the ropes were only meant to last for travel, and sure enough, within minutes of writhing and foaming at the mouth on the ground (which he didn’t have to do, his legs weren’t bound..), the superhero was free, flying to the door and slamming the full force of his body against it, predictably, winding himself immediately.

Jimmy stifled a laugh as the avian stumbled backwards with a heaving chest, falling into a sit to catch his breath. It was a wonder he hadn’t noticed Jimmy yet, but then again, the particularly angry superheroes always took a bit more time. Unfortunate. Jimmy hoped this guy wasn’t as much of an asshole as he looked (after many years of this, Jimmy got pretty good at figuring out who he was dealing with relatively fast), but if that was the case, Jimmy was sure he could needle a larger tip out of Tango in the case that this guy really gave him trouble. This was an unusual job in the first place; Jimmy had never been asked to trap participants in a maze before, then supervise while they traversed it. But Decked Out was fun and Tango paid handsomely, so really, Jimmy didn’t mind the change of pace.

“Help?” Jimmy tried, though the hero didn’t hear him over his own banging on the door and ferocious screeching. He got a sense of dejavu watching, though he’d seen this kind of temper tantrum about a thousand times by now. Still, the familiarity of this hero was something he couldn’t quite shake.

“Hey! Help me? Please?” Jimmy wiggled a little pathetically against his restraints, far from tight, but enough not to slip out without effort. Personally, Jimmy would rather save his energy for the hero.

The avian turned, then froze where he stood, like the guy he was called to come save was the last thing he expected to see at his feet. Jimmy suppressed a sigh. This guy was going to be insufferable.

“JIMMY!?”

Jimmy stopped. Now, that sort of reaction wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for heroes that knew him, but Jimmy had never seen this one before, so unless this guy had been warned (something which, hilariously, never seemed to be the case), Jimmy didn’t know what to do with that. But the avian didn’t sound angry.. Oh, worse idea, Jimmy used to know this person. Not the least bit unlikely given he attended the shittiest college in the city with all the poorest, most troubled kids around. Jimmy hadn’t even lasted long enough to get a degree, it was just too much. Hence the work he did now.

Exactly what that was..? Well, when people asked what he did for work, he usually answered freelance. Freelance kidnapping? Freelance being kidnapped? He was still working on the title. Needless to say, living in a place like this you learn pretty quickly that 90% of the ‘superheroes’ and the villains they fight are either cripplingly insecure, pieces of shit, or both, but sometimes the wannabe villains have a bit of an attention craving they just can’t scratch on their own. It turns out that Doing Evil can be a lot of work, and sometimes you just want to take out your daddy issues on an equally unstable individual under the guise of villainy without all the fuss! So for a price, Jimmy makes the fuss for them! He’ll scream, let himself be dramatically carried away, shoved into an unmarked van, generally manhandled- whatever gets the attention of an unsuspecting superhero who Jimmy would then lead into a trap, arena, whatever he’s getting paid for, and bam! Everyone’s happy!

Some villains didn’t even want the attention of superheroes, they just enjoyed catching Jimmy off his guard, which, by the way, was not part of any of his contracts, but Joel wasn’t going to stop Kidnapping First, Paying Later anytime soon, so at this point it was just a fact of his life he had to get used to.

Oh right, the job he was doing right now.

“Do I know you?” These words seemed to snap the hero back in his facade, the avian shifting his weight in a show of nerves.

“I- no, I don’t think so. No, no, definitely not. Probably not. Sorry. Just reminded me of someone I know.”

Jimmy snorted, rolling his eyes. “Someone called Jimmy? That’s my name too, what a coincidence.”

“You don’t have a brother, do you?” The hero looked sheepish, but it was good natured, a ghost of a smile just visible under his mask.

“Oh yeah, I’ve got one. He looks exactly like me and’s called Jimmy, how did you know?”

Ther hero crossed his arms in a sweeping gesture, snarking with a scoff, “Oh shut it with the sarcasm,” but even though the tone behind his voice was teasing, Jimmy felt like he had been transported right back to his college dorm. He recognized that. He knew exactly who this was. Short, dirty blonde avian with dark talons and a darker temper? Of course he became a superhero, what a damn perfect fit for a guy like that. ‘JIMMY?’ He recognized that too. The scream, pitched in all the worst ways. After a while, every word Grian spoke was like pulling a cheese grater over and over across his ears until they were nothing but stumps. Yeah, Tango would be tipping him big today.

“Jimmy? You okay?” The direct address snapped Jimmy back to reality, though he wasn’t sure how much he had missed. Regardless, Grian did get to work, kneeling to undo his restraints. Jimmy was relieved to stretch his wings, slowly getting to his feet once the ropes were cut. “This is embarrassing,” Grian said, and Jimmy was sure it was, “Forget I said anything. I think we shared a class or two, that’s all.”

“I get it.” Jimmy mumbled, tucking his wings back. “Tango’s been sending out all sorts of reports and notices to trick people into coming out here, so it’s your lucky day I guess. You won’t be staying long though, he just wants you to run the dungeon and then you can fly off.”

Grian’s eyes were obscured by the mask, but Jimmy was pretty sure they narrowed. “I’ve never heard of a ‘Tango’ before. Who is he? How long have you been here? Is he just keeping you here as bait?” How sweet of Grian to not realize he’s been set up yet. Well, Jimmy wasn’t about to break the news if he didn’t have to.

“He keeps a low profile. Tango’s been shut in working on this place for the last fifteen years, so I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of him, especially since the location is so out of the way of the city. Decked Out is newly finished- it’s a game, basically. He wants to watch people play it. It’s not what you’d call ‘up to code’ though, so it’s pretty dangerous. Need the athletic sort to make it any bit interesting. But yeah, I’m bait.” Jimmy shrugged, “He keeps me around to explain the rules. Usually the kidnappee, you, is a little more receptive to someone on their level, me, rather than.. y’know.”

“I’ll get you out of here.”

Jimmy laughed, he couldn’t help himself, though he quieted when he saw the bottom half of Grian’s face screw up, bracing himself to be yelled at. It never came.

“I’ve heard that before,” Jimmy settled on instead, taking a careful breath. He didn’t like the way Grian was looking at him. He never really liked the way Grian looked at him; despite his softer features, Grian’s face was anything but kind.

“Well I’m sure you’ve heard this before as well, but I’m different. I do my due diligence unlike most of the douchebags in this town. Where’s the way out?”

Stubborn. Vindictive. Jimmy wondered if Grian had changed at all in the dozen years since they’d talked. He shrugged. “The gate isn’t open yet, but it should be ready soon. Until then, what should I call you?”

Grian blinked. “Oh- CuteGuy. You can call me CuteGuy.”

“Well then, CuteGuy, once you go in you’re going to get a compass-“ Jimmy stopped short at yelling from down the hall, Grian as well freezing in his place.

“UNHAND ME AT ONCE! I SWEAR if you singe my uniform I am SENDING YOU THE BILL!” Oh! Well that was a lovely surprise. Jimmy heard Tango grumble something in response, but he was mostly drowned out by HotGuy’s dramatics. Good man HotGuy was, always making sure to give those supervillains what they paid for, though, Tango wasn’t exactly looking for a fight.

At once Grian was on his toes, creeping toward the door, but Jimmy shook his head. “I would stand back.”

‘Tango breathes fire’ was left unsaid when Grian shot him a sharp glare, not listening of course, and Jimmy wasn’t about to fight him, perfectly content to watch Grian get a face full of flame as Tango swung the door open. Grian reeled back with a startled yelp, but Jimmy doubted he was actually too hurt, not when Tango was skilled in controlling the temperature of his fire. His eyes would certainly sting though; deserved, certainly, for thinking Tango wouldn’t be ready for an attack. Idiot.

In the wake of the flame, a thoroughly netted HotGuy was pushed inside, decidedly much heavier than an avian and therefore unthrowable, but HotGuy didn’t seem to mind, struggling valiantly until the metal door slammed shut, Tango continuing to grumble from the other side as he walked down the hall.

“Jimmy!” HotGuy threw up his arms, a gesture hindered by the net. Jimmy snorted, moving to help HotGuy out while he continued to blabber on, “I was hoping you’d be here! It’s been a while dude, how’ve you been? Still going strong?” HotGuy didn’t even wait until the net was entirely untangled to try and stand, movement that made everything needlessly difficult, but Jimmy didn’t mind. Though he didn’t get the chance to respond either when HotGuy screamed, practically jumping into Jimmy’s arms.

“CuteGuy! How long have you been there, standing all stiff and puffed up and angry like a miniature gargoyle, look at you!”

Grian did, in fact, look like a puffed up cat, but HotGuy’s comment snapped him out of his frozen state, shooting back with a huff, “Miniature? How big do you think gargoyles are?”

“I mean, probably pretty big! Protecting stuff and all.”

Grian sighed sharply, a sound that set Jimmy’s feathers on end. But Grian didn’t push back, changing the subject. “You two.. know each other?”

HotGuy jumped to his toes, eyes absolutely radiant as he turned to Jimmy. “He doesn’t know?” his tone was colored with excitement, and Jimmy had to laugh, shaking his head.

“Know what?” Grian snapped at HotGuy, sucking away all the joy from the air, “What don’t I know?” Jimmy couldn’t stop himself from whirling around, an aggressive movement that seemed to catch Grian off guard, surprise clear in his raised wings, but Jimmy stopped himself, shaking his head. Not worth the fight. HotGuy looked confused by the rise in tension, bringing Jimmy back down to Earth.

“I doubt anyone else will come,” he said instead, stony, “I rarely get two at once. The gates should open soon.”

Grian. God. Jimmy should be over this by now. He thought he was over it.

Jimmy was a sociable guy. Making friends wasn’t a chore for him, but keeping them was much harder, and finding perfect fits seemed nearly impossible. Oftentimes he felt very out of place. He was an athletic sort of person, sporty, but a lot more sensitive than most guys. He really enjoyed being in shape, the structure of practice and working out, but he didn’t always love the social aspect of playing competitive sports, and college football wasn’t an exception. Too much pressure, too much toeing the line of people he wanted to associate with, and don’t get him wrong, these guys were his brothers, that’s just how the intensity of college sports worked, but Jimmy never felt able to be wholly.. there. They just weren’t exactly right, not warm enough, not free enough with their interests and hobbies and love.

Grian was his randomly assigned roommate for the first semester of college dorm life, and like most people Grian was pretty reserved in the beginning. Didn’t have many friends, kept to himself, but liked to go to the dining hall and such with Jimmy if for no other reason than to have someone to go with. Grian was chatty once you got him going, and weird, unabashedly odd in all the best kinds of ways. They didn’t have many common interests, but talking with Grian made Jimmy want to check out the things he was into, to understand all his incredibly specific rants and takes on topics Jimmy had zero knowledge of. Grian was fun, a little shy at first, but genuinely delightful to listen to, confident in his opinions in the way that put you on board even when you had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. He was charming! He was kind of cool in a way, the dorky kind of cool. The ‘cringe is dead and Grian killed it’ kind of way.

But even on his best behavior, Grian was always so.. angry. It changed the atmosphere of every room he entered, thick and boggy like wading through swamp water. There was just something wrong with him, like, literally wrong, the type of wrongness that sparks concern, that makes you wonder what happened? The type of wrongness that makes an outsider want to meet you with compassion, to help you, to make your miserable world a little bit less drab.

The delusions of a savior complex, really. But at first it wasn’t that bad. Grian was mostly reclusive, but despite a bit of awkwardness, he was surprisingly socially adept, charming and funny when it came to first impressions and relatively skilled at being liked by his peers. But the warning signs were there. The constant balling of his fists when the smallest thing didn’t go his way, the twitch of his strained smile, his always-tense shoulders. Grian seemed to view every social interaction like it was war, and he’d do anything to win. It was like he knew how pervasively unpleasant he was inside, how bubbling negativity coated his insides like black tar. He needed to be competitive. He needed to be on top.

And somewhere along the line Grian had decided Jimmy was the enemy.

Jimmy didn’t know what he’d done to make Grian hate him so much. Was it the positivity? Jimmy had tried to offset the stream of anger with his own suggestions; maybe she was late for class, maybe the sun was in his eyes, maybe they just missed the trash can and didn’t notice- He hadn’t been trying to challenge Grian, he didn’t even believe half of the excuses he spouted whenever Grian whined or complained about something entirely inconsequential, he just wanted his ex-roommate to realize that not everyone was personally out to get him, y’know?

How Grian decided Jimmy was one of those people working against him, Jimmy had no idea. Sometimes Jimmy thought that Grian was psychotic, like, literally in the Very Mentally Unwell sense of the word. He was just so.. defensive. Paranoid. Mean, and not always on purpose, he would just say things that dug at Jimmy’s patience until he was constantly teetering on the edge of snapping back and really making a mess of things.

Most of the time though, when Grian was mean, it was on purpose. At some point early on Grian had decided he couldn’t trust Jimmy, and god Jimmy spent so much time trying to earn that trust back just to be slighted over and over- petty things, constant criticism over the slang he used, the music he listened to- god forbid Jimmy forget something in the dorm or come back a little late from a bar after Grian had gone to sleep.

And the worst thing was, Jimmy wanted to help him! He still wanted to help Grian after months and months of being mistreated. He wanted to be a friend to someone who clearly needed some sort of support in a city that was run dry of resources for even those who could afford them. Jimmy wasn’t stupid. He’d grown up on the edge of poverty like so many of his peers, worked to help pay his parents’ debts since he was first able. He’d watched high school classmates do the same, fall to drinking or drugs, die before they even hit 18. He spent so much time being afraid for Grian, intrusive imaginings of how he might die young haunting boring lectures. Oftentimes he’d be overwhelmed by those anxieties, intense impulses sending him sprinting back to the dorm, throwing the door open certain of what he’d find, just to see Grian in his lofted bed, headphones in, glaring at his phone. Sometimes Grian would look up, meet Jimmy’s frightened eyes, then look back down. Sometimes he’d be ignored altogether. Sometimes.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

Grian knew Jimmy’s schedule by heart, memorized before even Jimmy had it down. Oftentimes, Jimmy found that Grian would get quite upset, if either of their schedules were changed last minute. If Jimmy showed up somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be when Grian wasn’t expecting it.

That made bouts like this all the more embarrassing. Grian wanted an answer. Jimmy didn’t want to know what he’d say if he heard Jimmy was worried about him for no reason. So he lied. He always lied.

“I forgot. I’ll go now.”

Grian would scoff. “Idiot.” Jimmy heard that a lot. Stupid. Dumbass. Idiot. The like.

Jimmy wasn’t stupid.

But the harder Jimmy tried, the more Jimmy pushed, the more vindictively abusive Grian became. That first semester of college were some of the worst months of Jimmy’s life. Trapped in a dorm room not much bigger than a prison cell with a guy who went out of his way to find fault with every singular thing Jimmy did. You’re so loud Jim, you’re so damn loud. That was his main complaint. As much as Jimmy loathed Grian’s voice, the other seemed to despise his own tenfold whether Jimmy was singing, talking on the phone, or simply speaking to friends while playing games, Grian had these physical reactions like he wanted to tear off his own skin. By the end of the semester, both of them sat on their sides of the room in complete silence.

Jimmy didn’t see HotGuy coming when the hero launched forward for a hug, a gesture Jimmy returned with a laugh as HotGuy squeezed, picking him up and spinning him around. At this point, Jimmy had accepted HotGuy had way too much energy to spend doing anything else, and honestly, he couldn’t say he minded. It was nice to have someone be so excited to see him.

“How long has it been? Over a year, surely!” HotGuy practically sang right into Jimmy’s ear, and Jimmy couldn’t help the dry thought of how much Grian must hate HotGuy from slipping through. “I missed you! You’ve got to come by more often, come on, work can’t be that hard to come by in the big city, huh?”

Jimmy wheezed a bit under HotGuy’s grip, tapping his shoulder somewhat urgently, “Okay, bud. Can’t breathe. Time to put me down, big man. And yeah, work can be that bad when everyone knows who you are. Sorry!”

“I’m feeling out of the loop here,” Grian cut in, but to Jimmy’s own sick delight, HotGuy didn’t even acknowledge the other hero, focus entirely on Jimmy.

“So what’s it this time? We busting you out? Dramatic chase? Explosions? Actually, I would rather not get blown up. But this guy’s got a fire thing going on, is stuff going to explode?”

“You’re not busting me out,” Jimmy waved HotGuy off when the other lingered a little too long in his personal bubble, “There’s an exit at the end of the game whether you win or lose, but since you’re going in one at a time, there won’t be any-“

THE DUNGEON IS READY FOR ITS NEXT VICTIM

The gate ahead began to churn open and cool air whooshed through, particles of ice and snow dusting the path ahead. Jimmy laughed off HotGuy’s mortified looking expression, uncomfortably avoiding Grian’s eye. He didn’t imagine a trapped Grian was a very pleasant one, and given the loaded silence as Jimmy started toward the open door, he got the sense Grian was thinking quite intensely. Jimmy had zero desire to know what was going on in that head.

“Come on,” he said, forcing a smile to a wary looking HotGuy, “It’s not too bad. I’ll grab you both your compasses and give the rundown. You’ll have to leave that bow though, sorry. It’ll be returned to you later.” HotGuy blinked back to attention, scrambling a little to catch up while Grian stayed at the rear, quiet.

“I have to leave my bow? Are you sure? I don’t know if I like the sound of the uh- dungeon. Do I get anything to defend myself? What’s down there?”

“Tango’s dogs are down there. You don’t want to shoot Tango’s dogs, do you HotGuy? Those are his pets!”

“Well-“ HotGuy looked flustered, like a guy who probably would want to shoot Tango’s dogs, but didn’t want Jimmy to know that. There was a reason Jimmy didn’t outright say Tango’s dogs were actually ravagers. “Alright, but do Tango’s dogs eat people?”

“They might shake you around a bit, but no, they won’t eat you. Plenty of people have gone through the dungeon plenty of times, lost, and hopped right back in. It’s meant to be played over and over, you’ll be fine.”

“And it’s the only way out?” Grian’s voice sliced the air, hard and focused, and Jimmy nearly jumped at the sound. Everything sounded so critical out of his mouth.

“You think I’d lie?” Jimmy couldn’t crush down the snark as he side-eyed Grian behind him, but Grian’s expression barely shifted, his wings only lowering slightly.

“I didn’t-“

“Wellllll,” HotGuy cut in unhelpfully, missing the tension as he wrapped a playful arm around Jimmy’s shoulder.

“Okay-“ Grian shook his head, hands brushing his face in loose fists, “What is going on with you two.”

“Nothing! Nothing!” HotGuy jumped up and away, instead falling back to walk with Grian, getting in his space and tousling his hair. The casual movement made Jimmy freeze in place, but Grian only squeaked, batting at HotGuy with palmed hands, careful not to catch the other’s skin with his talons. For a moment Grian met Jimmy’s eye, and then it was over, HotGuy grabbing at his hands and wrestling him without a single care in the world.. Whatever.

Warily, Jimmy left them to do their thing. He didn’t feel good about it- actually, he felt a lot like he was leaving HotGuy with a ticking time bomb, but he did have to get their compasses, so might as well go while Grian was in a good(?) mood. What a novel concept that was. Jimmy sighed, zipping up his coat as he stepped into a side room.

For a long moment he considered giving Grian a Level 2 compass, but that wouldn’t really be plausible, and honestly Grian probably wouldn’t make it out of Level 1 anyway. Tango wouldn’t be happy either; his focus was on testing how new players reacted to the game, and anything beyond Level 1 would probably be overwhelming.

Hm. Would Tango let Jimmy into the tunnels to watch Grian’s run while HotGuy was still in the waiting room? Jimmy would really love nothing more than to watch Grian scream and run around and eat shit on the icy paths, but Tango wouldn’t want HotGuy unsupervised, so it probably wouldn’t happen. Unless Jimmy sent HotGuy in first.. Surely the few extra minutes spent with Grian would be worth it. Yeah, no, that would be good. He’d give HotGuy an easy artifact spot so he’d either win or be carried out by a ravager quickly, then send Grian deep into Level 1. Yes. Perfect.

“Is this it?” HotGuy asked when Jimmy returned, fingers curled around the bars of the gate that separated the three of them from the dungeon. Grian was looking as well, though more intensely, head pressed against the bars like he wanted to gather as much information as humanly possible. Jimmy couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“Yeah,” he started, slipping into his prepared speech, “So basically, the point of the game is to find an artifact hidden in the dungeon, then bring it back to the start without getting caught by Tango’s dogs. The artifact placement is random, but your compass will help you find them; they point in the direction of a hidden panel on the floor. Once you find the panel, press your compass to the spot and it will be exchanged for an artifact. Then bring it back here.”

“How do we start?” Grian turned, eager, or maybe just antsy as he eyed the compasses in Jimmy’s hands.

“Not yet, and you’ll go one at a time, HotGuy first.” Though Grian didn’t look satisfied, and in a panicked gesture to appease him, Jimmy added, “Here, both of you can take these and once you’re ready you’ll press the bottom to the indent over on the panel by the gate,” Jimmy handed the compasses over gingerly, HotGuy taking it with curious fingers and Grian outright snatching it out of Jimmy’s hand, but before Jimmy could recoil or even react, Grian was on top of the panel, slamming his compass in before whirling around and grabbing Jimmy’s hand in a vice grip.

“I’m getting you out of here. Come on, HotGuy! Let’s get this over with.”

Jimmy’s mouth ran dry as the gate screeched open, only managing to squeak out a “One at a time!” before he was yanked forward, HotGuy cheering behind him. Jimmy nearly tumbled down the steps as Grian bolted into the maze, struggling to catch his tongue enough to form words. “This really isn’t necessary!”

“We’re going to save you, Jimmy!” HotGuy sang, oblivious to his distress, “Don’t worry a hair on your silly little head, with us you’ll be out of here in no time!” HotGuy winked and Jimmy didn’t get the chance to groan, far more preoccupied with Grian’s refusal to let go, and only having the mind to struggle out of his grip as the gate shuddered to a close.

“The game isn’t- guys-“ Jimmy stumbled back to the gate, but it would not be reopening any time soon. “The game isn’t meant to be played with three people! I don’t even have a compass! You need an artifact to get out!”

“Sounds to me like you only need one,” Grian said, perfectly unconcerned despite the new danger, not that he knew the ravagers were around, “I’m sure all three of us can scoot out at once if we’re quick, and if this ‘Tango’ tries to do anything about it, there’ll be two of us to keep you safe.” Jimmy didn’t even get the chance to respond to that before Grian clicked his tongue, “HotGuy, give me your compass.”

“Why? What if I want it?” HotGuy smirked and Grian scoffed, hopping forward to snatch it from him. HotGuy stepped out of the way and held it high out of Grian’s reach, causing the other to squawk and ultimately slip on the ice when he jumped to grab it. Jimmy found himself flinching when HotGuy laughed in Grian’s face, but the hero’s joy quickly turned to a shrill yelp as Grian leapt on him, clambering up his body with the compass in his sights. Unfortunately, the added weight unbalanced HotGuy on the ice and sent both of them tumbling to the ground. Certainly within Grian’s reach, the avian lunging for his prize and rolling out of range of a possible retaliation before getting to his feet.

“Right then.” Grian examined both compasses with great scrutiny, walking a little ways in different directions and nearing corners Jimmy just hoped had a ravager behind them. But Grian was never punished for his lack of attention, never straying too far. In fairness, HotGuy was doing very little to be careful himself, struggling to keep his footing without the talons Jimmy and Grian had; Jimmy would have given him grips for his shoes, but someone was in a hurry. For himself he would have grabbed the fluffy socks Tango had made to help keep his feet from getting too cold, so that was just another thing to resent Grian for. (Grian would not get socks. He did not deserve them.)

“HotGuy’s artifact is closest, so we’re going there.”

“How’d you puzzle that out? Actually, I don’t care.” HotGuy shuffled closer, poking his head over Grian’s shoulder. HotGuy caught Jimmy’s eye, throwing him a narrowed eye smirk before wiggling his fingers and jumping on Grian, wrestling the screeching avian until they both slipped, a crushed Grian losing his grip on the compass and unable to reclaim it before HotGuy scrambled over him (both parties kicking and screaming) until he slid across the compass, grabbing it with both hands.

“If it’s my compass, I get to hold it!” HotGuy got to his knees, arm shooting into the air to brandish his prize.

Grian let his head hit the ice. “We are never getting to our location.”

Jimmy crossed his arms. “Hey, HotGuy gets around the city fine. He could be a great maze navigator.”

“Thank you!” With some struggle, HotGuy got back to his feet, the momentum sliding him back into a forked path where he promptly fell back on his ass.

“We are never getting to our location.”

“You just wait CuteGuy, I’m gonna..” but HotGuy trailed off, eyes blinking wide as he stared at something down the tunnel. Jimmy’s feathers rose as he heard the grunt, but Grian didn’t seem to understand, looking between the two of them with a confused expression before the ravager bulldozed down the hall, HotGuy having no time to run before he was bowled down the hall, “THAT’S NOT A DOG!”

Jimmy spun on his heel, but the noticeable absence of Grian made him turn back around, having to lunge to grab him before the idiot tried to fight a ravager on HotGuy’s behalf.

“Other direction!”

“HotGuy’s-“

“He’ll be fine. We need to go.” Jimmy didn’t give Grian the time to argue, grabbing his wrist and overpowering him when it came to dexterity on the ice. Grian squawked, but luckily ravagers were not sensitive to sound, extra lucky when they turned a corner directly into the face of another and Grian shrieked, nearly falling on his ass before Jimmy pulled him up and back in the right direction.

“Get out of its line of sight!”

Grian only continued to shriek in response. Great. But after dragging Grian kicking and screaming around a couple corners, the ravager got off their tails, grunting as its heavy hooves lumbered down another icy tunnel. Grian let himself slide to a stop once Jimmy let go of his wrist, drifting to a wall and sliding against it to sit on the rocky ground and catch his breath. Jimmy hardly stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

“They don’t have much object permanence,” he mumbled instead, “Poor hearing as well. Still, maybe try to stop screaming. There’s about five around on this floor, so at the very least we know where a few of them are. We should keep going.”

“There’s more than one floor?”

“Yes, but our artifacts are on Level 1. It’s not too bad. And if we’re quick, we might still be able to find HotGuy. The ravagers are trained to take someone out of the game once they’re sufficiently down for the count, which is usually about two hits. If HotGuy got away, his artifact is definitely easier, but Tango will take the compass if he’s down, so we have to find him quickly. I think I know where he’ll end up, but stay on your guard.

Grian was quiet for a moment, catching his breath, sure, but the silence seemed deeper than that. Grian was always an intense thinker, the kind of intensity that weighed the air.

“You’ve been in the dungeon before? Tango is putting civilians in here?” He sounded angry. Not surprising, really, but..

“Yeah,” Jimmy shrugged, struggling not to feel defensive, “Not that many though. One guy just won’t leave. It’s kind of a volunteer program.”

“You’re not a volunteer.”

Technically, this was true. Jimmy was being paid; to run the dungeon as well as lure superheroes into it, though he hadn’t run it since a ravager broke a rib on Level 2.

For a moment Jimmy thought about telling Grian the truth, ditching the ‘helplessly kidnapped’ act and putting everything out on the table so Grian would stop trying to rescue him and leave well enough alone. That way at the very least he could call for Tango who might let him leave through a maintenance tunnel and not have to continue with whatever the hell was happening here. Jimmy didn’t even get the chance to register a deck before they started! However, the thought was dismissed immediately, partially because they only had one compass. In the case that Tango decided to be petty, Jimmy was not about to throw himself into the tusks of a ravager, and he could fantasize all he wanted about throwing Grian to the wolves and stealing the compass for himself, but it just made more sense that they stuck together.

But there was the fear, too, far more persuasive than any sense, the kind of deep seeded instinct that would have Jimmy sprinting in the opposite direction rather than be alone with his college tormentor, look him in the eyes, and tell him he’d been deceived.

Grian always thought Jimmy was hiding something from him. There had been multiple instances of Grian rummaging through his things, not taking, just looking, but not quite putting things back where they had been before. It really messed with Jimmy’s head- what he was even looking for? Grian didn’t have money to spend, but even when Jimmy had left his valuables and cash unguarded, Grian never stole. Jimmy never knew Grian to want anything either; weed, alcohol, the like, but for the most part Jimmy didn’t keep any of that in the dorm, and Grian never expressed interest. Grian didn’t even borrow pens or notebook paper; Jimmy was pretty sure he’d rather die than ask for help in any form, but regardless, it drove Jimmy crazy just to have Grian rummaging through his shit and having no idea what he wanted.

“Hey, if you need anything man, you just let me know, alright? I’ve got extra school supplies if you need to borrow anything for exams,” Jimmy had said one night, testing the waters in the rare occurrence when Grian’s headphones were off.

Jimmy would never forget the look of distaste Grian threw him, head cocked and eyes dark and narrowed; Grian didn’t even have to say anything to hurt him most days. “No.”

And that was that.

He never dreamed of confronting Grian, no, Jimmy would never bare his hand to a cornered animal. But one thing was for certain, he kept his phone and laptop passwords close, changing them regularly. Anything remotely private he locked up in his closet while he was out, Grian’s eyes burning into his back, suspicious and untrusting. He always made Jimmy feel so afraid. He wasn’t hiding anything or whatever it was Grian had convinced himself Jimmy was doing, he just wanted to keep his privacy private. Jimmy still had a habit of hiding his things, squirreling them away in odd places even when he was living alone. He didn’t realize he was doing it most of the time, but at some point it was pointed out to him (“This is why you can never find anything Jimmy, who keeps their receipts under the blooming mattress!”), and Jimmy had no doubt where the habit came from.

Apparently Jimmy’s lack of answer to Grian’s question was enough of an answer to him. “I’m going to get you out of here.” Intense. Always so intense.

Jimmy had no desire to fight him. “Okay.”

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #cw: past abuse #tw: past abuse #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #grian #tangotek #decked out #decked out 2 #hotguy #cuteguy

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