#look ofc he was upset about having half his faced burned off | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

radiowallet · 1 year

Text

Eyes Open - Chapter 8

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Amy Oliver (ofc) Summary: It seems silly to wait a whole week. WC: 2.1K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Canon-typical violence, talk of police work, a blatant show of testosterone, blood, injuries, kissing, making-out, dry humping, a smidge of dirty talk hurt/comfort, slow burn, yearning, idiots friends to lovers, financial stressors, second chance romance, workplace romance (sort of), older love interest, single parents, DID I MENTION THE YEARNING?

Series Masterlist II Main Masterlist II Marcus Moreno Masterlist

Cross-Posted to AO3

Part 7 >>> Part 9

For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

------

Marcus checks his reflection in the window of Amy’s apartment building one last time, happy to see the swelling around his eye is finally starting to go down. He slips his glasses back on, and checks again, relieved that the black plastic hides the worst of the damage. He must have been something terrible to look at earlier, super strength helping to dull the pain but doing little to hide the gruesome sight of his late-night scuffle. Still, he was pleased with the way the purple had already faded to something more grey, content that the bruise would mostly be gone by morning.

Amy had been justifiably upset when they left the dark confines of the evidence locker, the bright fluorescent light of the precinct giving her a much better view of the damage done. He had tried to wave it off again, making a half-hearted joke about ‘seeing the other guy’ but she refused to laugh, instead marching him straight back to the bathroom, stopping only long enough to grab the first-aid kit from her desk.

“You can tell me what happened now, or I can just read it in the report that hits my desk Monday morning,” she warned, her sharp tone an odd match to the gentle way she cleaned his wounds. It was clear she’d had practice, and he had to fight back the wave of jealousy that her hands had touched anyone else with the same soft touch.

“I miscalculated. I thought Miracle was on his way. Plus I didn’t know Baldwin was still working the case.”

“He sweet-talked Special Crimes. Bought himself a little bit of time.”

It was almost bolstering to hear that Derek was just as desperate as Marcus to put a stop to all of this, even if their methods were so mismatched. Perhaps success wasn’t so far out of reach despite the loss they took today.

“And who made mincemeat out of your face?”

Marcus winced as Amy pressed a cotton ball of alcohol to the worst of his cuts, but she paid him little mind, still waiting for an answer to her question.

“The guy down in holding cell 4.”

She grew quiet after that, her movements slowing just enough to catch his attention. Marcus took care to grab her hands and hold them tight, waiting for her to say out loud what he already knew.

“Amy?”

“…he’ll make bail.”

He nodded, “I’m counting on it.”

It was wrong. Dangerous, even. Stupidly so. It seemed Amy agreed, echoing her plea from earlier, all but begging him to be careful. It had seemed like a good opportunity to kiss her again, and so he did, cupping her cheek to keep her close, as he stole the taste of stale coffee from her lips. When it became apparent neither of them wanted to pull away, laughter broke out between them again, the joyful sound helping to ease the tension that refused to part from this day. After that, Amy suggested he swing by after she got Harris down for bed.

“Seems silly to wait a whole week.”

Marcus couldn’t agree more.

Amy’s home feels just as cozy as it did the week prior, the lights dimmed low and the balcony door cracked open, letting a late spring breeze blow through. They settle together on the couch, curled into each other, the last of the wine Marcus brought Thursday split between them, the sound of the city keeping them company in place of the scratch of Amy’s records.

He's quick to take advantage of the newest state of their relationship, resting the curve of his palm along the bend in her knee, and thrilling at the shade of pink creeping up her cheeks. Not to be outdone, Amy leans over to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, giggling at the tickle of his mustache. He steals one of his own before pulling back, just enough for her to settle into his side, her head finding the space between his shoulder and neck.

“What did you and Harris get up to tonight?”

“Had pizza over at Christine’s then came back home for a few cuddles before bedtime,” she shrugs, a generous sip of wine chasing her answer. “I always say I don’t hate these Saturday shifts until I get home and realize how much time I’ve missed with her.”

“You’re doing great,” Marcus asserts, but without even looking he can see the roll of her eyes and the frown on her face. “You are,” he says again because she is and he means it.

He knows that guilt just as well as Amy does. That all-too-familiar foe that lingers at the back of his mind, a consistent and constant worry that one parent isn’t enough, could never be enough. He wishes there was a way to wipe it from her mind and put her heart at ease, but Marcus knows that the only solution is to remind her again and again.

And so he does.

“You are.”

He feels her nod, a soft brush of her fingers along his chin before settling back onto his thigh, enough of a cue for him to change the subject.

“How mad was Baldwin after I left today?”

“Oh, he quieted down not long after,” she hums, her smirk hidden behind her wine glass. “I think your mere presence is a trigger for him these days.”

Marcus can’t help but grin, something like victory blooming in his chest. He lets out a sharp laugh and squeezes Amy’s knee in reply. “Who’s gonna break the news that he’s about to see a whole lot more of me?”

He’s only half-joking, his lips finding the crown of Amy’s head, breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo. It feels almost like a dream – one he had been so reluctant even to consider – and the long list of reasons why seemed so stupid with the weight of her resting against him.

“Maybe we just let him figure it out on his own,” Amy offers, the tips of her fingers drumming a pattern out on Marcus’s thigh. It’s slight, the small wave of nerves shifting out of her. It feels like she needs room – or maybe it’s time – to parse through her words, and Marcus is content to wait for her.

“I just…,” she starts, her breathing shaky along the rim of her glass. “I don’t want things to change.”

He presses another kiss into the crown of her head, this time holding his lips there for her to feel the intent behind them. “It won’t.”

She’s quiet in the wake of his reassurance, leaning deeper into his embrace, her fingers finally stilling where they rest on his leg.

“So you’ll still pop in to awkwardly flirt while I slip you police reports and suspect lists?”

This earns her an amused snort and another kiss, this one to her temple, his lips lingering on the small patch of skin. The feel of it sends a wave of pleasure to the base of his spine, something warm and heady pooling low in his gut. He hums, the sound rough and deep at the back of his throat, the hand on her knee curling tighter to ground him in this moment. He swallows around it, finding his own voice, but just barely.

“My flirting wasn’t that awkward.”

Amy tilts her head to brush her lips along the underside of his chin, her lips parting enough for him to feel her breathe out her gentle tease.

“Debatable.”

Things fall into place quickly after that. Wine glasses find their way to the coffee table, Amy turning up and around, all of her settling in his lap. Marcus takes care to hold her steady, wrapping his hands around the slip of her waist, eyes finding hers as she leans in for a kiss. She gives just as openly now as she did the first time they kissed, her lips smooth where they meet his own. He parts them easily, his tongue melting into hers, the taste of her better than he remembered.

Amy is warm and heavy on top of him, one hand curled into his hair, the other clinging to the back of his neck. Marcus almost feels helpless, gripping tighter to her waistline and pulling her closer and closer still, until he swears he can feel the beat of her heart against his own. The heat between them burns brighter, and with it, his hunger for her. He thrusts up, just once, dragging a moan from her between her lips. He swallows the sound, and trades her one of his own, letting the whole of it fill her up.

Their kisses only grow more frantic from there, a messy press of lips lost in the sound of breathless sighs and hushed pleas. They move together, hips grinding up and down, not nearly enough but still so much in the heat of the moment. Marcus breaks first, gasping for air as his lips pull away. He doesn’t go far, knocking his glasses off and burying his face in the curve of her neck, teeth and tongue finding the salty sting of her skin.

“M-Marcus…I…it’s been so… so l-long….” Her voice is a whisper, strangled and panting in his ear. It's like music, and he can’t help but bite down harder, officially marking her as his. Amy’s words break off, her hips canting down to meet his own.

“Shhh, I know. I know,” he promises, soothing the hair off her forehead, refusing to stop even as she presses her lips to his cheek, her mewls almost silent as tries and fails to beg for more.

It’s intoxicating, knowing he’s making her feel so good; so good he’s stealing the words from her lips, and replacing them with only the pleasure of his touch. He feels light-headed, dizzy, almost lost, his thrusts frenzied but not without purpose. With each drag of his hips, bright white bursts across his vision, his cock painfully hard beneath the weight of Amy. But he doesn’t care.

Fuck, how he doesn’t care.

All he cares about is how she whispers in his ear, her nails biting into his skin, pleading for him to keep going. As if he would dare to stop. He holds tight to her waist, wondering selfishly if she’ll bruise, pulling and pushing her into him as hard as he can. She winds her arms around his neck, muffling her cries in the turn of his neck. He can only guess at how close she is by the tremor in her muscles, legs and arms shaking where they’re wrapped around him. Already he’s thinking of the next time he has her like this, hungry to hear how loud she can be when given the freedom. How exquisite she’ll sound when she breaks around him, and he’ll take care to put her back together.

For now, he’s happy, feverishly so, everything falling by the wayside as she gasps out his name, her body locking tight as her orgasm crashes into her. He talks her through the height of it, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from her that he can.

“I’ve got you. I’m here,” Marcus repeats over and over, in awe at how she chases the wave of relief, seemingly desperate to hold on to how good it all feels. He grabs her chin, guiding her mouth to his with a skilled hand, swallowing the last of the quiet gasps she sets free, until finally, she falls against his chest, completely spent, sated.

Carefully, her body pliant and her breathing even, he tucks her beneath his chin, another kiss gifted to the crown of her head.

“What about…” she starts, her hips dipping forward to meet his erection, but he shakes his head and holds her steady.

“I just wanted to take care of you.”

She takes the admission in stride, her lips pressing to the hollow dip in his throat, her fingers finding a home where his hair curls at the nape of his neck. He thinks maybe he could fall asleep here, the twist of their bodies tangled on her couch, the city sounds floating in through the dark night, Amy’s warmth enough to keep any chill at bay.

But neither of them are want for a night on a couch, and it isn’t long before she’s sliding away from him, casting a quick glance down the hall, ensuring the door to Harris’s room is still closed tight. Satisfied with what she sees, Amy turns her attention back to Marcus, her cheeks flushed and her eyes dark. He can’t help himself, pulling her in for another kiss, the palm of his hand cradling her cheek, and holding her close even as their kiss breaks apart.

“I think I like this thing we’ve started,” Marcus whispers, the tips of his fingers finding the patch of skin beneath her shirt, the small of her back tacky with the lightest sheen of sweat.

And then, after a pause, Amy whispers, “Please, be careful.”

And Marcus knew. Without even asking, he knew.

Be careful with me. With us. Please.

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

Part 7 >>> Part 9

For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

A/N: Would it be a story I wrote if I didn't include my favorite thing in the whole world? Surely not. What can I say? Your girl loves some dry humping.

Big huge thanks to @jazzelsaur who had to listen to me after I wrote this about how fucking hot I accidentally got myself. Who I would be if I couldn't whore around in her DM's?????

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno fic #marcus moreno x ofc #we can be heroes #we can be heroes fic #pedro pascal characters

62 notes · View notes

bbgem329 · 2 years

Text

Things Are Never As They Seem—Chapter Seven

Pairings—Sebastian Stan x Actress!Reader, Sebastian Stan x OFC (PR relationship)

Summary

You and Sebastian Stan have been dating privately for over two years. Everything is perfect until he is coerced into a PR relationship when he signed with a new agency to advance his career. Trouble ensues…

Warnings

MINORS DNI. 18+. Language. Angst. Inner turmoil. Rich bitches. Seb is a good bf.

Series Masterlist

—————

September 12, 2020

“Cut.” Stephen called out, leaping excitedly from his directors chair, “That was marvelous. I think that about does it for the day. See you all tomorrow, bright and early.”

A man appeared before you, offering you a hand as you slipped down off the gorgeous white horse. “Thank you.” You mumbled, lifting a hand to give the stallion a gentle scratch before someone took a hold of his reins, guiding him off set and back to the stable they were being looked after in.

You breathed out a sigh of relief, rolling your shoulders back a few times before cracking your neck from side to side. It was moments like these, when the consistent ache residing in your muscles increased with every minor movement, that you regretted doing your own stunts.

“Y/N.” Stephen called as you shuffled off in the direction of your trailer, desperate to get out of the tight leather pants that made up your costume. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

Henry, who you hadn’t even noticed was trailing off after you, gave your shoulder a subtle squeeze and an encouraging wiggle of his brows as he passed.

You huffed softly, scrunching your nose distastefully at him before spinning back around, a bright smile plastered on as the older man approached you with an obvious pep in his step.

You would never understand how he had such energy after a long, fourteen hour day of shooting.

“What’s up?” You asked softly, wringing your hands together in front of you. He didn’t look displeased or upset, which gave you the slightest bit of relief. “Everything okay?”

Stephan waved his hand dismissively, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “Of course. Of course, everything is fantastic.” He threw an arm over your shoulder, guiding in the direction you were previously heading in. “I’ll walk you to your trailer. I just wanted to check in with you, I know how hard you’re working to wrap this up before your next role.”

“Oh.” Your entire body sagged in relief against his, a soft breath spilling from your parted lip. You weren’t in trouble then, nothing to fret over.

“You’re doing so well. I know you’re tired and absolutely drained but yet you still come in everyday ready to kick ass and give it your all.” He gave your shoulder a subtle squeeze and a brilliant grin before retracting his arm, “I guess I just wanted to make sure that you’re doing okay. I don’t want you to burn yourself out or overdue it. I know we are on a bit of a schedule but if you need a day or two, we can make it work.”

“Oh. I’m okay.” You shrugged half heartedly, bottom lip rolled between your teeth, “I don’t want to throw everything off. I can push through.”

Stephan raised a white brow, lips pursed and dark hues narrowed skeptically.

“I’m serious.” You chuckled, rolling your eyes playfully. “You know what they say… I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

He hummed non committedly, eyes tracing over your face, assessing you carefully, “I don’t know. Don’t take this the wrong way, I don’t mean offense…” He inhaled sharply, “But, hun you look exhausted. The wife would have my head if she saw you right now. You know how much we love and care about you. I may be your boss but I’m also your friend, and this is me coming to you as a friend.” He shook his head, a frown tugging at the corner of his lips, “It might not be affecting your performance but you're like the walking dead when the cameras are off you.”

He wasn’t necessarily wrong…

You couldn’t even count on one hand how many times you’d fallen asleep between scenes, passed out on your chair with Henry’s jacket tossed over your head. Or how much extra concealer Blake was using just to hide the dark bags that had made home under your eyes. Or the amount of coffee you were downing just to stay upright.

You were drained—exhausted beyond belief. You couldn’t even think straight outside of saying the right lines and perfecting the scene. Whatever little energy you had left, went solely into your work.

“If it were up to me, I’d make you take a week,” He sighed, the tight lipped smile split across his lips, “But I know you’re stubborn so at least settle with me for a day or two.”

“She’ll take two.” A familiar voice interjected.

You spun around, ready to argue and rain hell on whoever decided it was at all okay to make decisions for you but it snapped shut when you laid eyes on a stern Blake and your very concerned looking assistant, Casey, strolling quickly over to you.

“Don’t even try to argue it, babe.” Blake snapped, giving you a pointed glare, “You’re dead on your feet and need to sleep for at least a full twenty four hours. Not to mention, you seem to have forgotten you have an entire life outside of work and people who are worried about you.”

You curled into yourself, eyes flickering shamefully to the floor as a bright blush rose to the apples of your cheeks.

So you may have forgotten about the outside world, what’s the big deal?

It would still be there when filming was over anyways.

A break from the real world was nice, perhaps it was even needed. You couldn’t even remember the last time you checked social media, let alone your emails or texts.

“Well, that’s settled then.” Stephan spoke up, tone final as he clasped his hands together. “I’ll see you Thursday. Take care of yourself, Y/N/N. I mean it.”

With that he turned on his heels and trekked off towards his own trailer. No doubt he had picked up on the quickly rising tension and figured you all needed some space.

“Seriously guys?” You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as Blake tossed an arm over your shoulder and Casey looped hers through your elbow on the opposite side. “I’m fine.”

“You aren’t fine.” Casey sighed, giving your bicep a little squeeze, “You aren’t taking care of yourself at all and you are completely ignoring everything else in your life. Your phone has been blowing up for a couple weeks now. Sebastian has become desperate to get ahold of you. Elaine, Ella, Macy, Georgeta, Eli, and even Anthony have all tried to text and call.”

“I texted Sebastian two nights ago.” You scoffed, eyes trained on your feet dragging lazily across the gravel.

“All you said was ‘hi’ after his previous seventeen messages and twelve missed phone calls, Y/N!”

“Geez,” You groaned, rolling your eyes, “That’s a very specific number. How did you even know that?”

“Because Sebastian told me.” Blake grit out, an expression of pure exasperation worn across his face. “You’re lucky I love you. I talked to him—calmed him down. I told him not to take it personally, that you were just getting in your ways and wearing yourself out.”

“Why does it matter?” You huffed, shaking your head, “He can go days without contacting me but if I do it to him it’s the end of the world?”

“Are you serious right now?” Blake laughed dryly, “You haven’t had a legit conversation with him for over two weeks. You literally know nothing about what’s going on with him because you’ve placed yourself in this protective little bubble-”

“I have not.” You interjected, voice louder and stronger than you intended it to be.

“You have!” He hissed, dragging you to a complete stop before forcing you to face him. “This is me calling you out on your shit because I love you and you’re kind of being a fucking bitch, dude. I understand you’re going through it right now—what with your dad's fucked up shit, all of this PR bullshit straining your relationship with Sebastian, and working nonstop before this really, really big role for you…but this ends here and now.” He grasped both your shoulders, head dipping down to look you directly in the eye, “You cannot push everyone away when things get hard. You cannot seclude yourself and drown yourself in work because you’re scared and you’re hurting. This isn’t healthy and you’re going to lose some really fucking amazing people in your life if you continue down this path—including a man who worships the ground you walk on and loves you for everything that you are… the bad and ugly parts included.” His face softened, hand lifting to brush along your flushed cheek to wipe away the shameful tears that had begun to roll down your cheeks. “Get your shit together, baby girl. I mean it.”

You choked out a sob, shoulders trembling and chest heaving as you fell into his awaiting arms. “I…I’m so—sorry.”

Everything you'd been holding back for so long—stuffing it down and sweeping it under the rug had come barreling to the surface in full force.

You should’ve known better, it hadn’t worked in the past. It always, always turned around to bite you in the ass and leave you feeling completely and utterly defeated.

You weren’t punishing Sebastian, that you were sure of, you were distancing yourself—from him, from your friends, from the outside world.

From everything.

A part of you—a very deep and ugly part of you, was giving him an out. It was something you would never admit, not to yourself, not to anyone, but you were waiting for him to inevitably give up on you. To see if, in your distance, he would turn to another, more specifically Catalina. You were creating a barrier, building up a wall between you because in the weakest part of your mind—the part that no amount of affirmation or self love would ever be able to heal, automatically assumed and braced for when he would leave you, inadvertently taking your entire heart with him.

It was toxic behavior, you knew that. You’d spoken with your therapist and even Sebastian enough to know that most of the time your worries and thoughts were outrageously irrational.

Usually it wasn’t this bad. You’d never pushed everyone, specifically your lover this far away and for this length of time.

But you just couldn’t seem to shake it off. Couldn’t seem to think rationally.

Maybe it was the stress. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Or perhaps a combination of both because of how overwhelmed you were.

The only steadily positive thing in your life right now was work. So it made complete sense as to why you fell back on it and pushed everything else in your life aside for it.

“It’s alright.” Blake shushed you, combing through the ends of your hair, pressing soft kisses to your head as Casey’s hand rubbed reassuringly along your back. “We just all love you so much and just want to make sure you’re okay.”

You nodded against his chest, the soft cotten on his t-shirt was drenched by the tears that seemed to never end. Your body felt weak and you could feel a migraine blooming behind your burning eyes.

“Let’s get you out of costume and then I’ll take you home, okay?” He whispered, one hand sliding up to cup your cheek as he stepped half a step away to examine your face. “I don’t want you to feel worse but you do need to talk to Sebastian. Elaine called Ella and apparently the dude is having a really rough time. I guess Eli had to fly to Atlanta because he locked himself inside his room and completely shut down.”

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest, guilt and shame rising tenfold within you. If Eli, one of Sebastian’s best friends, who also stepped up to be his PA from time to time, was called for the sole purpose of that, it wasn’t good. It was an even worse sign that his manager had called yours, it meant Sebastian desperately needed you right now.

You had never felt more selfish in your entire life. He needed you and your head was so far up your own ass, you hadn’t even thought of or realized how bad it might be for him.

“Fuck.” You choked out, wiping furiously at your cheeks. “Where’s my phone?”

—————

You frantically paced the floor, phone pressed to your ear as you listened to Sebastian’s voicemail for what felt like the hundredth time.

You’d been trying to get a hold of him for the last hour and half but every time you called, it went straight to voicemail, meaning either his phone was off or on ‘do not disturb’ mode. You’d left him at least three voicemails, one of which you cried pathetically through.

It hadn’t taken long for Blake to help you out of costume and before you knew it you were home, freshly showered, and in your favorite sweats, trying desperately to reach your lover.

You slumped defeatedly down on the couch, eyeing the takeout lying on the coffee table before you. Chinese was your favorite, especially when it came from the family owned shop that was just up the street, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to eat it, your appetite had dwindled steadily with each denied call.

You supposed you deserved it.

It was only fair after basically ignoring him for the past couple of weeks. You would ignore you too, if you were in his shoes.

You’d never hated yourself more than you did right now but you didn’t deserve to wallow over and drown in your own self pity. You’d done it to yourself and if Sebastian wanted space from you or even worse, wanted to end things with you, you wouldn’t blame him.

If your most recent actions were any indication, you were the worst girlfriend on the entire planet and he deserved far better.

You were so lost in your thoughts you nearly fell off the couch when your phone and laptop started ringing loudly from where they lay on the coffee table.

Your heart felt like it was going to beat right out of your chest as you leaned forward, tilting your laptop screen towards you with trembling hands. You could feel your cheeks heating up and palms begin to sweat, the air completely leaving your lungs when you caught sight of who was facetiming you.

Smexy Seabass

You swallowed back a sob, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes as you clicked to answer as best you could with your trembling fingers.

All efforts to avoid crying were futile because as soon as his tired, defeated, handsome face popped up on the screen your bottom lip trembled and a few tears escaped down your cheeks.

“Baby.” He breathed out, voice cracking slightly.

And you completely broke, shattered into shambles right before his eyes.

“I—I’m so sorry.” You cried out, dropping your face in your hands, shoulders shaking with the strain to keep your sobs quiet. “I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing or what’s wrong with me. I didn’t mean to take it out on you and ignore you. I’m so fucking selfi-”

“Baby. No.” He interrupted, tears pooling in his steel blue eyes. Nothing hurt him more than to see you upset, even more so when you blamed and took it out on yourself. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’re okay. You are not selfish-”

“It’s not okay.” You croaked out, rubbing harshly over your bloodshot eyes. “It’s not okay. You needed me and I wasn’t here like I promised I would be. I heard what’s going on and I’m so, so fucking sorry. I should’ve been there… I should be there.”

“Hey, hey.” He cooed, hands pressed to the screen and his pretty, teary eyed face positioned close up to the camera. “It’s okay. I love you, okay? Nothing is going to change that. I honestly deserved to be ignored for what I’ve put you through the last couple of months.” He glanced away, expression solemn as his own tears rolled freely down his cheeks. “I’m sorry too. I should be there with and for you, I know you’re going through a hard time too and you're overworking yourself from what I’ve heard.”

“You don’t deserve to be ignored. You haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just,” You bit your lip to suppress a sob, eyes flickering away from the screen, “I’m just fucked up and I got in my head.”

“You’re not fucked up, baby.” He whispered, voice cracking slightly, “You’re not fucked up. If you’re fucked up then I’m really fucking fucked up. And I do deserve it because I should’ve been trying harder from the beginning and reaching out more. I let myself get too caught up in things and work and I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered, scrubbing a hand down your flushed, wet face, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s alright. We’re okay, now. We’re gonna talk about it, figure it out, and move on.” He voiced confidently, combing a hand through his tousled hair. “This won’t happen again, okay? We’re gonna do better because I literally cannot function without you and I will fall apart if I lose you for good.”

“I'm not going to leave you, Sebastian.” You breathed out, wiping the remainder of your tears away with the end of your shirt. “I was terrified you were going to leave me. I was being irrational and got too far in my head.”

“Y/N , I love you.” He croaked out, tilting his head to the side as he gazed directly into the camera, the love and adoration clear as day in those cerulean eyes. “I mean it, with everything in me, when I say that you are it for me. No one, and I mean, no one will ever compare to you or change my mind.”

Sebastian was always good at reassuring you. He always seemed to know exactly what you needed to hear and when you needed to hear it. Affirmation might not be his love language, but it was yours, and he wasn’t at all afraid or ashamed to give you what you needed. That’s exactly what set him apart from the rest and made you fall head over heels in love with him to begin with.

Even after all this time together, he made sure to love on you just as he had, if not more, from the very beginning.

“I love you so much.” You sniffled, rubbing at your nose as you lifted your feet up on the couch, tucking them under you before clutching a throw pillow to your chest. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”

“Stop apologizing, Iubirea mea.” He whispered, sporting the smallest of smiles, “And if you think you’re a mess we’ll then you’re my mess.”

You laughed softly, burying your face into the pillow to hide the blush that had risen to the apples of your cheeks, your bun flopping unceremoniously in every which direction.

“Besides I think we’re both really going through it right now.” Sebastian added, a frown pulling at the corners of his plump lips. “This is exactly why we should never ever be apart.”

“I miss you.” You mumbled, chin resting on the pillow, lips pressed into a small pout as you gazed into the camera.

It didn’t matter that you looked like an absolute train wreck, you were beginning to feel at peace for the first time in weeks and you briefly questioned why the fuck you thought it was at all a good idea to ignore the man in front of you when talking to him and seeing him brought you so much joy and happiness.

“I can’t even begin to describe how much I fucking miss you, pretty girl.” He shifted back in his chair and it was only now that you realized he was in the kitchen of his rented apartment. “I have this raw ache,” He slapped a hand to his chest, resting over his heart, “In my chest that only goes away when I see your gorgeous face or hear your voice. I can’t imagine how much better I would feel if you were actually here with me right now.”

You nodded softly, afraid that if you spoke you might just start crying all over again.

“I think it’s hard because I don’t know exactly when I’ll see you again.” He shook his head, scrubbing a hand down his face as he tossed his head back towards the sky, “I know we’ll both be off for Christmas but who knows what my team will cook up by then and I don’t know if I can physically wait until then.”

You sighed solemnly, bottom lip worried between your teeth, “Me neither.”

Sebastian was quiet for a moment, unfocused, cerulean hues gazing across the room as he ran his fingers over the scruff lining his jaw, “I don’t know how much longer I can handle this.”

You shifted in your seat, bringing your knees up to your chest in preparation to give him your full and undivided attention and provide a listening ear. It was obvious something was eating at him, weighing heavy on his chest, and you wanted nothing more than to provide any semblance of comfort you could, given the distance between you.

“Are you okay?” You wondered, getting the ball rolling on this discussion.

From what you gathered from all your missed messages and voicemails, things weren’t going well between Sebastian and Catalina. He was trying desperately to focus on work but she just wouldn’t leave him alone. She was staying in an apartment across from his and if she caught him coming or going, she would invite herself along or into his own apartment instead.

Ever the sweetheart, Sebastian couldn’t bring himself to be stern with her nor would he ever call her out. And instead of addressing the problem at hand, he decided to lock himself inside in attempts to avoid her.

But Catalina didn’t take lightly to being ignored and threw a hissy fit. Because she couldn’t reach him, she made it everyone else’s problem and rained hell on his team. It has gotten so bad that he was having back to back panic attacks a few days ago, hence why Eli was called in to console and comfort him.

Even after it all, she still wouldn’t leave him alone and Sebastian had absolutely no choice but to suck it up and do as she asked. It didn’t matter if he was getting off a thirteen hour day and wanted nothing more than to sleep it off, if she wanted to go have dinner, he was forced to go to dinner. If she wanted to go to set, despite the covid regulations and Disney’s policies on guests, he had no other option than to bring her on set, where she would pester and whine to him all day between takes.

It was too much and clearly Sebastian was hanging on by a thin thread. Even looking at him now, you could see the physical toll she was having on him. If the heavy, dark bags under his eyes weren’t enough of an indication, the permanent slump in his shoulders and the depth in his frown lines would’ve tipped you off.

It broke your heart to see him like this. But it pissed you off more to know that Catalina, who saw him with her own two eyes everyday and witnessed the change in his appearance first hand over the last couple of months, didn’t seem to give a flying fuck. It baffled you that she could treat someone as kind, patient, and sweet as Sebastian like this. That to her, any and all attention, was more important than someone’s mental, emotional, and physical well-being.

You hadn’t touched social media in weeks but from what Blake had mentioned on your drive home, Catalina hadn’t let up on her baiting in the slightest, increasing it drastically in her desperation to get his attention. She couldn’t stand the idea of the attention being solely on Sebastian as he worked to film a special show for one of his most loved and supported roles.

Article after article was being written and printed in Spain about Catalina and her new superstar bae. No doubt paid for by her rich mother.

Sebastian was receiving so much backlash over it, to the point that Ella had even hinted that Marvel had decided to step in and Catalina was no longer allowed to associate herself with that side of his work.

Which you’d decided was a blessing in disguise and no doubt something Sebastian appreciated.

“I’m hanging in there.” Sebastian spoke up, drawing you from your thoughts. He nodded softly, giving a halfhearted shrug of his shoulders, “Just trying to get by.”

Your frown deepened, brows furrowing further as you watched him fiddle with the string on his hoodie, refusing to meet your gaze.

“Is there anything you can do to get out of it?” You offered quietly, hesitantly.

You’d never suggested trying to break the contract out loud before, wouldn’t have encouraged it previously but seeing him like this, hearing about what he’d gone through, and how much of a toll it was taking on your relationship, really made you wonder how much more you both could take of this.

Only two months in and this is what it had come to? You couldn’t even imagine what the next sixteen months would look like. You didn’t even want to.

Sebastian finally lifted his gaze, bottom lip worried between his teeth and his eyebrows drawn together in thought.

“I haven’t really tried.”

“Maybe you should.” You said softly, shrugging your shoulders. “What’s the worst that could happen? You get told no?”

“Well,” He groaned, scrubbing a hand frustratingly down his face, “If Catalina finds out, she might just make my life a living hell but she already has so…”

“Don’t worry about it right now.” You added with a small smile, “Worry about taking care of you and work. Don’t put too much on your plate right now, I don’t want you to stress yourself out.”

“You should take your own advice, baby.” He smirked, running his hand through his tousled hair, “I’ll give it some thought though. I think I’ll be okay. As long as we’re good and you’re here with me, I’ll be fine.”

“I’m here with you, my love.” You breathed out, “We’ll be better from here on out. Set certain times each day to FaceTime or call, okay? Just like you said, this will not happen again.”

“Damn straight.” He declared, scrunching his nose at you as he slapped his hand down on the table, “Cause you’re my girl and I miss you too much.”

“I miss you more.”

You stayed up way later than you should’ve talking things out with him, the conversation eventually turning lighter and more playful after throwing everything weighing on you out in the open, but you weren't too worried about it now that you had two full days to catch up on sleep.

You went to bed feeling a whole lot lighter and your laptop, projecting Sebastian’s gorgeous face, propped up in the space beside you, where he would normally sleep.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you slept almost as soundly you would if he were really there beside you.

—————

Tag list

@justlovelifeblog @inlovewith3 @buckybarnesandmarvel @sleutherclaw @snugglingbucky @perlaluna @littlewhiterose

@idontwannagomrstarkk

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you

121 notes · View notes

speedystarshine · 2 years

Text

Ofc! I love this guy so much, so Ty for this-

Yandere Oli White x Male!Reader

-Okay first of all this man loves you SO much and I don't take criticism

-He wouldn't mind if his s/o is male, but he knows some people do so he's extra protective :)

-Is literally so gentle with you, he doesn't like it if you're upset and more often than not gets upset that your upset 😭

-He likes making you laugh and/or smile so he tries to make little jokes or puns

-He can get overprotective really easily, so if he sees conflict brewing and your in the middle he instantly removes you from that situation

-Also worries a lot about where your going, who your going with, what your doing etc, so he often comes with you :)

-If his s/o gets voted into a challenge he would definitely be very very worried about you, but has enough confidence in you to believe you'll come back.

-He'd be pissed off if any of the group members were to insult you, but wouldn't make a big deal about it, instead pulling them away for a second to have a little 'chat'.

-You'll notice he's always behind or in your general area. He's also just constantly staring at you with a little smile on his face.

-tee hee sometimes he forgets what he's supposed to be doing because he's too busy thinking about you/looking at you, and gets really flustered if someone were to snap him out of it which is usually what happens.

-He's wary of everyone, but mainly watches out for Timothy and Lele, since he knows the mobster can be flirty and Lele is....Lele.

-Would be really really really upset if you were to die in a challenge, stuck in his own head and acting similar to Matt did when he accidentally killed Sierra.

-Lowkey you and the thought of getting out see the only things keeping him half-sane

-If you two get out though, (along with Joey) he constantly has you around at his place or vice versa :)

-In the opening for Season 2 if you both get the letter, whether or not you want to go back he's instantly burning it. Nope, not doing that again.

-Overall is a very delusional and loving yandere, would probably cry if you said you hated him. :((

Taglist:

@112-writes

@shuble

@orangussy

(also adding the lovely person who asked this, @pixie0stick :) )

#yandere escape the night #escape the night x reader #yandere escape the night x reader #escape the night #oli white x reader #yandere oli white x reader

38 notes · View notes

realcube · 4 years

Text

HQ BOYS REACT TO YOU FAKE CRYING

characters ♡ yaku, kenma, kayegama & iwaizumi

content warning ♡ fake crying, mentions of murder, hurt/comfort, fluff & timeskip! iwaizumi (no mature themes, just domesticity)

credit ♡ thank you to 🍦anon for this request

morinosuke yaku

♡ why did you need to need to practise in the bedroom?? in his bedroom, no less

♡ your show was quickly approaching and you recalled the scene where you were to burst out into tears on stage, and you hadn’t yet rehearsed how you were going to do that

♡ honestly, you were under the assumtion that yaku would have no problem with you practising while in his bedroom bc he has ran lines with you in the past and this was hardly any different

♡ so sat, thinking about the most horrible, morbid, grotesque things you possible could, all while keeping your eyes wide open and not blinking so soon enough, the tears started rolling

♡ proud of yourself, you smirked before burying your face into your hands; now to add sobs!

♡ it started out with mere snivels but then as you got more confident, it built up to full on bawls which were loud enough to gain yaku’s attention from the kitchen

♡ he was quick to rush over to his bedroom, his soul audibly leaving his body when he saw your upset weeping figure on the bed

♡ he basically pounced on you and engulfed you with his embrace, ‘dear! what’s wrong? are you alright? who hurt you?!’ the questions were fast falling off his tongue as cradled your head, leaving no room for you to speak without being muffled by his chest or arms

♡ and when he noticed that you were trying to speak, he simply hushed you, ‘shh! it’s okay, dearest.’ and continued to whisper ‘comforting’ stuff like that in your ear

♡ he thought he was helping but really he was just preventing you from getting you point across

♡ eventually, you managed to escape his steel grip and gasp, ‘yaku! i’m fine! look — no tears!” you gestured to you damp cheek, “i was just practising for my role! i’m not actually sad. though, it’s cute that you care so mu--”

♡ as soon as yaku heard the word ‘practising’ he immediately recalled how you mention you have a sad scene where you need to cry and his natural reflex was to lean backwards, grab a massive teddy bear that sat behind him which he had won at a carnival for you but you insisted that he keep it bc you didn’t want to carry it home

♡ ...and he threw it straight at you, causing you to fall backwards and burst out laughing at how you were currently being straddled by a big teddy bear

♡ ‘(y/n)! i thought you were hurt! you can’t just fake cry without telling me first- i was so worried! like i thought it was real and--’ this went on for an elongated amount of time, yaku ranting while you added a faint ‘sorry!’ whenever you saw the opportunity

♡ eventually, he stopped only to take a deep breath, visibly calming doing as his chest heaved, ‘alright. what’s done is done; it’s fine. you worried me though, (y/n). i thought you were being for real, what then?’

♡ you nodded, smiling at his softened expression as your lips twisted into a smirk at his final comment. cocking a brow, you purred, ‘so...you think i’m a good actor? tha--’

♡ pow! another plushie to the face! K.O!

kenma kuzome

♡ as a joke, you dabbed water under your eyes a few times so you could send your friend a snap of you ‘crying’ and ofc kenma had to walk in at exactly the wrong time

♡ you were over at his house, chilling on his couch while he was upstairs talking to kuroo over the phone— he said he’d only be a moment but almost half an hour had passed and he still showed no sign of coming back downstairs, though you couldn’t blame him as kuroo does have a tendency to be overly descriptive when spilling tea

♡ anyway, as soon as you had sent your snap, you placed your phone down and scanned the room in search of some tissues to wipe you eyes with, when kenma barged in

♡ ‘hey, (y/n). i’m sorry that took so lo--’ when his gaze shifted from his phone onto you, sitting on the couch with tears streaming down your cheeks, he immediately cut himself off

♡ at first, you were frozen, simply staring at each other; as if he had just walked in on you committing a violent act of homicide in his living room

♡ honestly you were too stunned to move at first but if you could, you’d probably say something along the lines of ‘this isn’t what it looks like’ but before you could even open your mouth, kenma edged towards you until he was able to outstretch his arms and wrap you in his warm embrace

♡ with your cheek pressed against his warm hoodie, basking in an uncommon blissful silence, you postponed your explanation until you were finished enjoyed how his nimble fingers caressed your back

♡ you hummed, your lips curling a smile at how comfortable you felt in his arms and how nice his hoodie smelt, since it usually reeked of an unholy mixture of body spray and monster energy

♡ he planted a kiss upon your head, murmuring into your hair, ‘baby, what’s wrong?’

♡ you were quick to swipe away your ‘tears’ with the back of your hand, ‘i’m fine, don’t worry.” you chirped, beaming at him to reinforce this point, ‘it’s just water, for a silly video i sent to my friends.’

♡ kenma blinked rapidly, staring down at your seemingly genuine smile

♡ honestly, you expected him to tease you or be irritated that you made him reveal a hidden soft side of himself for no reason, since he’s usually quite private with his emotions

♡ but instead, the corners of his lips just lifted into a slight smile as pushed your head back against his chest, then resting his head upon yours, ‘oh, that’s cool.’ he breathed, his warm, calming voice causing your eyelids to become heavy — that and the fact you had went on a run not too long ago

♡ kenma felt your eyes flutter shut against his chest so he slowly leaned backwards, holding you against his hoodie as he laid down, allowing himself to doze off with you snuggled up on his heaving torso

hajime iwaizumi

♡ you were making iwaizumi dinner, cutting onions and cooking curry

♡ so it was not surprising when tears started brimmed at your eyes, eventually slipping from your lashline and trickling down the soft skin of your cheeks, leaving you to blink rapidly to lubricate your burning eyes

♡ iwaizumi had just came out the shower, he had dried off but when he came downstairs and peered into the kitchen, he was wearing just a towel which was draped around his hips, ‘mm, something smells good. whatcha cookin’, baby?’

♡ he didn’t plan on staying downstairs for long, which is why he didn’t throw on a shirt; all he wanted to do was get to the bottom of what that magnificent aroma was that he smelled from upstairs, then once he figured it out, he’d go back upstairs, get changed, then head back down for dinner

♡ but his plan was cut short when he noticed crystalline tears pouring from your red, puffy eyes

♡ without thinking or taking into consideration why your eyes are red, his immediate reaction was to dash over to your side and slip his arms around your waist, puling you in so that one of your hands had no choice but to rest on his back while the other continued to stir the pot

♡ noticing that your watery eyes were still fixated on the curry, he took your chin inbtween his fingers and forced you to cook at him, ‘why’s my angel crying? hm?’ he cooed, features painted with genuine worry and concern

♡ you lifted a brow, stifling a chuckle at how silly he was being, ‘what do you mean?’

♡ before you could process anything else, iwaizumi bought you in for a passionate kiss with the his hand pressing against the small of your back, only pulling away so he could rest his head on your shoulder and hum into your ear, ‘you can tell me anything, angel, so what’s on your mind?’

♡ you bottom lip quivered at his intimate action — you might just start crying for real

♡ biting your bottom lip, you resisted your tears and forced out a laugh, ‘what’s on my mind? well,’ you started, momentarily letting go of the ladle so you could hug back, ‘i have to make dinner for my himbo husband, but the onions and spices are burning my eyes. pray for me, iwa.’

♡ it took him a moment to register what you just said. he’d been in the kitchen many times so by now he was basically immune to the way onions and spices affect the eyes, so he completely forgot that stuff like that happens. he honestly, wholeheartedly thought that you were crying real tears of sadness while making dinner

♡ he impulsively pushed you away, crossing his arms over his chest and his initial kind expression lowering into a scowl, ‘who are you calling a himbo?! i just forgot that some people have weak-ass eyes. bye.’ he spat, clearly trying his best not to laugh as he stormed off to his room, keeping a firm grip on his towel the whole time

♡ don’t worry, though. he was back ten minutes later — fully clothed — to eat dinner with you :))

♡ but don’t mention it ever again or else he’ll blush and tell you it ever happened

tobio kageyama

♡ you were scrolling on your fyp and found a video of a person explaining how to cry on command and you didn’t believe it’d actually work so you tried it

♡ as it turns out, it does work and now you are sitting on your bed with tear stained cheeks and a dry throat, completely zoned out until kageyama came marching into your bedroom

♡ it was in that moment that you recalled that you had invited him over for a movie night and you had left your front door unlocked for him, hence he must’ve invited himself in

♡ ‘sorry i’m late, but i brought doritos.’ he spun on heels after closing the door, doritos in hand but not for long because as soon as he noticed your cheek glistening the lamplight, he instantly dropped them to rush over to you

♡ ‘eh? (y/n)? are you crying?’ he asked with a harsh voice, which wouldn’t help if you really were crying. instinctively, he reached out for your hand and began pressing kisses to the back of it

♡ he wasn’t really too sure on what exactly he could do or say to comfort you, so he recollected on the time you tried to cheer him up after he lost a big game. you lay beside him on his bed, humming a distant tune that matched the one playing in his ear from his earbuds. one hand threading through his hair while the other cupped his cheek so you could press occasional, soft kisses on his cheek while he set to himself. it was calming, and it definitely worked in making him feel better. usually, it’d take him months to recover after a devastating loss like that, but with you by his side and giving him support, he was back to his normal self in a couple weeks

♡ well, as normal as it gets for kageyama

♡ you gently shook your head, admiring his adorable actions and allowing his to continue as you used your spare hand to wipe away your artificial tears

♡ ‘oh, sweetie, i love you so much.’ you mused, thinking up a way to start your story without sounding foolish

♡ but perhaps you shouldn’t have began your explanation with a term of endearment as his impulse with to promptly throw his arms around you, holding onto your torso tightly

♡ you were taken back for moment, wheezing slightly as kageyama squeezed the air out of you but finally able to speak once he relaxed his arms, ‘tobio! nothing’s wrong, don’t worry. i was just testing to see if i could fake cry or not. i’m not actually crying.’

♡ kageyama’s eyes widened and he paled

♡ you weren’t actually in need of comfort? then why did he just get all soft? for nothing?

♡ ‘no.’ was his simple response which he punctuated with another kiss on the back of your hand

♡ you couldn’t help but giggle, taking advantage of this opperuntiy to reach out and ruffle his hair, ‘yes. i’m seriously okay. i’m happy, actually, because i get to spend my evening watching movies with you!’

♡ surprisngly, he didn’t glare at you for messing up his hair — since it was already untidy — and just took a seat beside you, keeping ahold of your hand as if it was a fragile gem, ‘i don’t believe you.’

♡ you laughed, realising that he was clearly making excuses for openly showing affection and being soft so you just let him, hopping to your feet and tugging your hand away from him so you could grab the doritos he dropped, ‘whatever you say, tobio.’

♡ he pouted but it was only brief as he was soon able to take your hand once more, ‘yeah..’ he grunted, averting his eyes so you didn’t see the blush creeping onto his cheeks, ‘whatever, just put on the stupid movie...stupid (y/n)...i love you..’

392 notes · View notes

littlefreya · 5 years

Text

Good Girl

gif credit amancanfly

Synopsis: Henry is at the gym testing the new Glute Drive while his longing wife drops by to visit and decides to play a little wicked game of teasing.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Word count: 4.2K

Warnings: Explicit, this is basically ALL smut. Slight SubMale / DomFem then a lot of DomMale / SubFem, dry humping, cock teasing, dangerous driving, fingering, dirty talk, daddy kink, slight size kink (I am all the kinks today), unprotected sex and bodily fluids!

A/N: Okay so this fic was born out of the UNHOLY union between this thread and the video of Henry going “good boy” at Kal. Many thanks to my darling @agniavateira for helping me proofread this!

Title: Good Girl

There he is, my bear of a man. His sculpted, wide body plastered to some medieval-looking torture device. Strong, large arms hang onto the handles, muscles flexing. Slick with sweet sweat, he thrusts his hips up and down while grunting with effort.

Who the hell came up with this air-fucking machine?

I walk through the deserted mirrored room, my black painted nails scratching the glass as I draw closer toward Henry. Gyms tend to be freezing, and I’m not properly dressed for a workout session with my mini plaid skirt and a dark grey t-shirt. But his arduous gasps fill the chilled space enough to make things a little warmer.

“What are you doing here, little one?” Henry finally asks, pausing his thrusts for a moment as he spots my cattish moves toward him.

I observe silently as I inch closer. he has his waist strapped to a bench, heavy weights of 80kg are on each side of his body while he lifts upward and presses his behind back down. A sheer layer of sweat covers him entirely, his skin glistening in the fluorescent’s light. His favourite blue top is soaked.

“I came home from the studio and my hubby wasn’t there.” I pout, standing right at the edge of the bench where his feet are pressed for support.

He pouts back at me, genuine care on his face. My darling bear might have the endurance of a large predator, but his heart is all strawberry marshmallow when it comes to his lady. He hates to spend time apart. Whenever our schedules collide it’s all about Face-timing and sending nudes.

Honestly? I care less than he does about this shit ever getting leaked. I even keep some steamy under-the-cover selfies so I’ll have something to work with when either of us is away.

But what I hate the most, is having him here yet he’s absent. The Pre-production shenanigans have him preparing for his next role, which usually means working himself at the gym to the point of collapsing, just so he could look like some demi-god. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind him having a little body fat. That’s why I bake him pizza every weekend. What his gym coach doesn’t know, can’t hurt him.

“I’ll be done in 10 minutes, darling.” he answers and continues to slowly push down and up again, releasing a pained grunt and clenching his teeth. “Just… two… more… sets.”

“I don’t want to wait.” I alert him, circling the machine carefully to not get in his way. I appreciate the hard work and stamina, but I am quite tired of having the downside of the deal. Every day for the last 2 weeks I received an exhausted Cavill with aching, strained muscles. The most action I got was massaging his muscles in the bathtub which might sound romantic if not for him snoring 3 minutes in.

“Ten minutes,” he mentions again. He’s out of breath as he ascends and then lowers once more, the weights pressuring his body down while the bands create a resistance.

No way in hell someone came up with this device and didn’t think this is a sex thing. I see my bear thrusting his hips upward like this and only one thing goes through my mind.

Oh, how I need to be on top of this mountain of a man.

I cannot help myself, nor can I hide the malicious grin forming on my mouth. I lift my leg carefully, hovering it in the air above him. I cage him between my straddled legs whilst giving him my best dominatrix glare. Henry raises his eyes to meet mine, looking dumbfounded.

“What are you doing, darling? You’ll hurt yourself.”

Oh, sweet summer child.

I sway my hips in a slow dance, with the thrust of his body and his heavy breaths as the music I’m dancing to. The arousal in his eyes is evident within seconds. His lips part away slowly, his beautiful blue eyes begin to cloud, and his adam’s apple slides upward in his throat as he swallows.

“At home.”

“Here.” I ignore his request lowering myself slowly and carefully to squat over his groin. He’s not hard, yet.

Henry releases a deep loud grunt. Usually, I am weightless for him, but right now I’m adding to already 160kg of weights. Well, he is the type of guy who likes to push his limits and I am the type of girl who likes to test boundaries.

“Don’t,” Henry protests, another grunt escaping his lips. I stretch myself, my ass pressing back, my groin rubbing against the tender muscle that begins hardening between my legs. I can feel the rush of blood, making him throb and grow vast between my legs.

“Don’t do what?” I press my teeth against the lushness of my lower lip viciously, beginning to grind against the hardness in slow circular motions. “Don’t you have two more sets?”

He clenches his teeth, his hands tightening around the handles so harshly his knuckles whiten. With great effort he lifts up, succumbing to my wickedness. His erected cock is concealed underneath his clothes, yet I press and dance onto it, making blissful moans as the friction has me singing that sweet familiar tune.

When he pulls down I dive with him, feeling the exhale of his body and the dancing twitch of muscles. I greatly anticipate the next push upward, my hands reaching to squeeze my breasts together. My panties are now soaked with moisture as I press and rub, bringing myself closer.

When he lifts again, his thrust is a wee bit faster. He’s either getting used to my weight on his groin, or the adrenaline of the beast that I’ve been teasing allows him to push higher. He angles his hips into mine, serving my need, and gives me the friction I demand. His eyes meet mine and pure darkness devours me within them.

I am in so much fucking trouble, but it’s so worth it.

“Oh Henry, you’re making me so wet.”

I moan his name, rubbing myself on his cock at a demanding speed while he lifts up and down. My clit tingles, swollen against his enormous bulge as that familiar wave begins to spread. He’s so hard, so painfully swollen, and so incapable of getting any release while I ride him into a powerful orgasm.

I clutch his thighs, desperate gasps spiralling out my mouth as the pleasure continues to hit my core. My nails dig deep into the hardened flesh but I can’t be bothered.

“Oh god…” I throw my head backwards, trying to adjust my breath while my legs are shaking around his wide waist. There’s still a throbbing hardness against my burning core, the angry drumming of blood pulsating against my opening.

I’m tempted to take my phone and capture his looks in my camera. But I’m in too much trouble as it is. Henry is drenched in sweat, upset in ways I’ve never seen in my life. He's done with his workout for today, no doubt about that.

“Are you done?” he asks me with a frown.

I lick my lips and lift myself up, knees nearly giving up as my legs are still numb from the intensity of pleasure. I let out a provoking giggle, putting my finger between my teeth, knowing he likes that gesture. This is my favourite battle, control. He enjoys superiority with his physical power, but every now and then I sweep the rug beneath his feet. And though he loves it when I am his good girl, sprawling and letting him take what he wants, when I am bad, the beast is willing to split my ass in half.

Guess I won this round.

Henry unbuckles the harness from his waist as I step back. He takes the towel from the bench and wipes his face. My eyes fixate on the still hard swelling in his nether area. I could offer to take care of it for him, but I am not feeling this generous right now. Better keep his stamina for home, so I can actually get me a proper shag in a nice, clean bed with a nice, clean husband that doesn’t smell like an entire rugby team.

“Go wait in the reception.” he demands, his tone anything but sweet right now.

“Don’t take too long.” I demand in return as I turn around, flipping back my hair and letting it slide down my ass. I can hear his frustrated groan behind me, just before I leave the room. It makes me lose myself in a burst of chuckles.

~*~

Henry meets me downstairs, a serious expression on his face. His gaze doesn’t meet mine, letting me know that unlike myself, he is vastly unamused. He takes my wrist in his big hand and leads me outside while smiling to bid bored receptionist goodbye.

I am forced to follow his large strides. Being a tall man, every step of his is equal to three small ones of mine. Even though it seems like his “problem” subsided, he’s not exactly interested in waiting.

He’d always be tender in his behaviour towards me, a respectful gentleman who knows how to treat women. Sure, he can rearrange a guy’s skull, but he never raised his voice at me. He’d take a walk outside the house and then return to so we can have a talk like adults.

But this is not a fight. This is but our favourite little war. Ongoing from the day we met.

I notice that we are not going to the car. Instead, he leads me to a narrow, dark space between two buildings. I can smell the damp sidewalk, the scent of earlier rain filling my nose. This spot is anything but romantic or erotic, with street cats screeching at the back and the sounds of trash cans being hit as they bounce on top of the lids.

Finally, he towers above me. His hand lets go of mine and hold it open in front of me with a demanding look in his eyes.

“Take off your panties.”

I let out a bemused laugh, dry and short as I am uncertain of his odd demand. But he holds out his hand at the stern request, motioning for me to do as I’m told.

“Here?!” I ask, looking around to see if there is anyone who might be a voyeur on our little engagement. The last thing I need is our agents scolding us again for photos of us being inappropriate in public places. Gretchen swears we make these mess on purpose. We kinda do, because we can’t keep away from one another.

“You want another one of your fancy pairs turned into rubbish?” he threatens.

I comply, breathing out like a brat and leaning down to take off my underwear for him. I place it in his hand and move back against the wall, anticipating his next move. I guess “Cavill and wife caught doing cardio after the gym!” could be a funny headline, better than the one at the hotel at the Academy Awards.

Henry folds the small material in his hand, holding it in his fist as if it’s something he can actually squeeze, before shoving it into his pocket. He grabs something else in exchange. I hear the chink of his car keys, dangling between his fingers as he offers them to me.

“You drive.”

There are no explanations, nor can I make anything of his behaviour. My man is willed with the control of his emotions. To outburst is to be weak, I am keen on that, my own terrible flaw. It only pisses me off more to see him keeping himself so relaxed while I am always the one who sees fire.

I follow his order, walking after him silently as he leads me to where he parked the car. Having no underwear beneath my short skirt is anything but convenient right now, especially when I have to enter the vehicle and crouch down.

I try fixing my skirt to cover myself, feeling the leather of the seat beneath my ass and other regions while Henry begins messing with the music player. I can see the small smirk at the corner of his lip, it’s evident that he’s having himself a good time knowing how uncomfortable I am at this very moment.

I roll my eyes at him and try closing my knees together as much as I can while stepping my foot on the gas.

He puts on Queens of the Stone Age and takes the passenger seat back, remembering he needs more legroom than I usually require. His head turns to face me, his lips sucked into his mouth in a cunning gesture.

“Had yourself a good time?”

His hand reaches toward my knee, grazing at the bone with featherlike movements. It tickles, I am forced to move my knee from him involuntarily, but he keeps it in place, resting his entire large hand on my kneecap.

“I’m driving…” I warn him, keeping my hands on the wheel and my eyes on the road.

I can tell he is smirking wickedly, his eyes staring at the road ahead of us carefully and then back at me. His fingers make their way up my thigh, snakelike on my bare skin. His palm is large and warm, pressing onto my inner thigh while his thumb draws invisible circles on my skin.

“Henry…” I warn again, feeling cool air blowing against my lips as he forces my legs to part wider for him. “You’ll get us killed!”

“Then focus on the road.” he commands, licking his lips. His fingers meet my wetness in a touch so tender it’s almost a phantasm, yet still there, undoubtedly making me swallow a sigh and squirm slightly in my seat. It’s as if he is testing the water first, a slight brush before plunging in and damn if he doesn’t push into me with his fingers, pressing three of his large digits to massage my heat.

“Fuck!”

I am fighting to keep my eyes open, my hands clutching at the steering wheel while my left foot kicks at the floor.

“Maybe we should stop.” I suggest, nearly pleading.

“Keep driving, we’re almost home.” he answers, sounding relaxed. The amused grin has vanished from his face, replaced with the severeness of pride and triumph.

He strokes my cunt between his fingers in a tight grip, his fingers running up and down, playing with my wetness, smearing it across his hand before plunging two of his knuckles inside me as we stop at a red light. I am very much aware that other drivers might see us, so does he, but he seems to care very little if anyone spots him pleasing his wife.

“Aww…” he mocks me, hearing the helpless cry that pushes out of my throat. “You shouldn’t have been such a bad little girl.” he teases some more, his fingers now plunging in and out with excitement. I allow myself to grind at the surface of his palm to achieve more friction at the base of my clit so maybe we can finish this quickly before the light is green.

But he’s the one in charge of my satisfaction now. He holds his hand further, so I will have none of it and keeps the stimulation only at the rim of my cunt, his fingers circling my entrance.

“Too bad you had to tease me like that.” he murmurs in his low voice, his fingers slowly withdrawing and only his thumb grants my clit with a small tender brush.

“Now you’ll have to wait, and be a good girl for daddy.”

I let out another cry, arching toward the wheel and biting on my lips. It's not out of pleasure, but out of torturous frustration as he withdraws completely. I give him a quick, infuriated stare, seeing how he sucks his fingers victoriously, enjoying every single drop of his sweet win.

Feeling slick between my thighs, I press slightly harder on the gas pedal, trying to get us home faster. Henry pumps the volume of the music player higher.

Watch you come from above

I'm so needy for love, I'm desperate,

Greedy in slavery I sneak around from behind I got a one track mind We got a skin on skin thing baby I want to lick you too much I hear you comin ooh aaaah baby

~*~

The moment we enter the house I lock the door and try to make my move but he has his hand on my throat in less than a second, squeezing not too tight, but tight enough to make a point. His blue eyes scan my face, his soft tongue slithering across the freckle of his lower lip with arousal.

“Get on your knees, little one. You’re not off the hook yet.”

I gasp at his fierceness, weak against his charisma and beauty. I stroke his face, still sticky with sweat from earlier, my fingers are gently smoothing against the stubbles on his high cheekbones and at the dimple of his chin.

“Please, daddy, just fuck me already,” I bargain.

“I’m wet and ready for you.”

“On your knees.” he repeats himself, his lips twitching to a small grin as he sees my defeat. His hand slightly releases my neck, his fingers pet my chin and jaw and finally entangle in my hair as I fall to my knees slowly, levelling myself at the height of his groin. His hand strokes my head lovingly, pressing my chin against his growing arousal as I look up to him with fake innocence.

“Are you gonna be good now?” he asks, his fingers twirling around my long hair lovingly.

“Yes, daddy.” I nod, waiting to have his cock in me, in any part of me. I want to touch myself so badly, my pussy throbs with desperate eagerness to be stuffed by his huge cock. .

“I want to see you crawl on fours and wait for me in the living room, babygirl.” he growls at me while discarding his blue top on the wooden floor, exposing his thick hairy chest.

“I want to look at your cunt as you move for me before I’ll destroy it. You’ve been such a nasty girl today.”

I shiver at his words, a shrill of air kicks out of my lungs at once. My toughness is down to non-existing. I let him have it, I let him have it all. I crawl on my knees and palms like a cat in heat, my ass exposed for him. My cunt drips with primal desire to be conquered by this menacing alpha. I stop for a moment and then look behind me. I see him kicking off his shoes, his sweats slipping down his thick thighs along with his briefs before he continues to follow me, holding his erection in his hand, massaging the base of his cock while looking at me to open wide for him.

I reach the furry white IKEA carpet in our living room and wait for him, still on all fours. His heavy footsteps make the wood creak beneath his weight which alerts me that he’s close. The heat of his body is near. I feel the aura of his body as he falls down to his knees carefully behind me.

His hands smooth against the curve of my ass, appreciating my shape to the point of worshipping my flesh. He takes the time to study again what he knows better than I do, trailing up to lift my skirt until it’s hiked around my belly. He then pushes my shirt, prompting me to take it off. Not an easy task to perform on all four limbs.

For one lingering moment, his hands roam across my body, massaging my muscles, pinching my nipples between his fingers. I moan beneath his large hands as he coaxes me into being his little plaything, succumbing to his will. Possessive fingers grip my shoulder and in a sudden movement, I’m pressed with my back down while Henry pushes my legs apart with his knees.

“I just love to look at your face when I fuck you, babygirl.” he explains, his hands pulling my legs violently against his hips to position me as he desires. That way, we can both enjoy the show of his cock slipping in and out of my slit.

I squirm beneath him, my hands reaching for his chest to stroke at the thick dark hair and hardened pecs. “Please, fuck me.” I beg to the point of whining as I look at his sturdy cock, admiring every vein and ridge that decorates his impressive size. Henry takes himself and begins to tease my entrance, making teasing groaning voices while I plea so weakly.

But that’s only to prepare me for his brutal invasion. He lets out a loud husky shout as he pushes in, penetrating me with such vulgarness, it takes the air out of my lungs. I am split in half, feeling how my body stretches immediately to bind itself to him.

My narrow slit tries to remain resilient while Henry keeps himself nested between my lush folds, a groan of pure pleasure vibrates through his glorious chest before he takes my jaw in his great hand and makes me look at him to see the sin in his eyes.

“Good girl…” he calls out in his deep low voice, pulling himself out slowly and then slamming back inside me in with a slippery wet slap. I gasp, my entire body shuddering in his veiny arms.

“Good girl.” He speaks again, letting the words roll and linger on his tongue.

His rhythm is somewhere between torturous to divine. When he pulls away he does it ever so slowly, watching with perverse fascination his own cock as it slides out my narrow entrance just before he slams back in. Henry promised that he will destroy me; he never breaks a promise. I already feel how my muscles are thrown into a paradox, trying to resist him yet have him deeper and deeper with each one of his amazing thrusts.

“Look at how you take me,” he calls in a guttural voice, urging me to look at our union. “You have such a tight succulent cunt, baby.”

It feels almost too sinful to stare, my entire existence shivers at the sight. His big beautiful cock enters me, slick with my juices as he increases the pace. I’m petite but with him inside I’m forced to expand, my body stealing his shape, embracing him with devotion, wanting him to be like this forever.

His wide thighs are placed right beneath my legs, his right hand silks its way down my hip and grips me roughly as he pounds me in increasing speed. With one hand still on my jaw, he presses his fingers to my mouth where I suck and bite at him. He always wants me to look at him, loves it when I’m hopeless beneath him when my mouth cries for him while he stuffs me with his cock, over and over again.

I squirm to meet his pelvis. He fucks me so raw that no actual words come out of my mouth but the mewls of a small, helpless animal instead. Being hunted for sport rather than eating. I grind my clit against his pubic bone to elicit more delightful friction, getting me closer and closer. But I’m stealing control and he’ll have none of that right now.

He shoves us down, pinning my hands against each side of my head while his groin is holding me down to the surface in complete captivity. I am hurting for a mere moment as he shoves too forcefully. His apology is a deep passionate kiss which he is forced to break as we both gasp for air with every merciless push of his loins into mine.

“Fuck babygirl!” He leans his forehead against mine, a feral gaze in his eyes. I lock my legs around his waist, my body losing every grip it ever had on control as the warmth begins to throb at the base of my cunt, spreading from my womb towards every nerve until I feel nothing but love flowing through my body.

I pant in awe, my voice adding to his deep growls and husky gasps which only become louder as his orgasm looms closer with the tightness of my cunt around his swelling cock. It sucks him harder, demanding his release, milking him of his offering until he shudders through me and yells out my name.

The gush of warmth that spills inside me is my second favorite thing in the world. I moan with sweet delight as his cream coats me inside.

“I love you so much.” he whispers, holding me in his protective embrace as if to apologize for fucking me so hard.

I’d imagine that after such a long time together he’d already figure it out that I’m the one provoking it.

“What’s the name of that device again?.. the one I was…”

“Glute drive.”

“Glute drive, yeah, we’ll do that again soon…” I suggest, nibbling at his ear playfully while he remains on top of me.

~*~

Song lyrics are by Queens of the Stone Age - Skin on Skin

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill Fanfiction #Henry Cavill x OFC #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill x reader

3K notes · View notes

mymoonagedaydream · 4 years

Note

tony’s house is on fire and it’s literally in flames so u run in and get morgan and bucky thinks ur dead as steve just holds him back as he screams ur name sobbing. but ofc u come back out and let morgan run but u drop to the ground from too much smoke inhalation. :)) ty mama

Ablaze

Summary: In an instant, your relaxing housesitting break turned into your worst nightmare

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: I will happily be mama to any of you beautiful people I love that

---

Tony and Pepper were finally taking a much-needed holiday.

No work, no business, no phone calls.

Pepper kept chanting it to Tony in the days before they left, probably trying to condition him into accepting relaxation like one of Pavlov’s dogs.

To be honest, it was a bit of a surprise when they approached Bucky, Steve and yourself about house-sitting and looking after Morgan while they were away. You assumed he’d just get Happy to take care of it all, but you definitely weren’t complaining, because you loved Morgan to absolute pieces and you were pretty stoked to get some time away from the compound.

You arrived at the Stark residence early afternoon on the day they were flying, getting a comprehensive list of dos and don'ts shoved into your hand and a quick smile from both of them, before they said their long goodbyes to Morgan and hopped into the car.

She was a little upset after they’d left, so you did everything you could to make the rest of the day fun and distracting for her.

The three of you took her for a long walk in the afternoon, Steve and Bucky taking turns to let her ride on their backs and jumping in puddles on her command, then you made a home cooked dinner before all settling in to watch Morgan’s favourite Disney film for the rest of the evening.

She rested her head on a cushion in Steve’s lap while you and Bucky curled up together at the other end of the couch, your head nestled in the crook of his neck and his cheek resting on your crown.

Only an hour or so into the movie, you noticed Bucky’s head begin to gradually become heavier, and you realised he was probably nodding off. For as long as you’d known him, he’d never managed to make it through a whole movie.

You glanced over to Morgan, seeing that she was battling to keep her heavy eyelids open as Steve gently stroked his fingers through her hair.

‘Alright.’ Bucky’s head shot up at your sudden announcement. ‘I think it’s bedtime.’

Steve looked over to Buck, chuckling at his sleepy disorientation before jumping up and scooping Morgan into his arms.

‘Come on little miss, I’ll tuck you in.’

She frowned slightly as Steve carried her towards the stairs. ‘But we didn’t get to the end.’

‘We’re not going anywhere squirt, we’ll finish the movie tomorrow.’

When their half-hearted arguing had moved out of earshot, you clambered onto your feet, standing in front of Bucky and waiting for him to do the same.

A look of complete bewilderment spread across your face when he threw his arms towards you, silently requesting that you hoist him up off the couch.

‘You’re aware of how insanely heavy you are, right?’

He just pouted.

You took a deep breath and gripped both his hands, bracing a leg against the couch and yanking him towards you as hard as you could. He didn’t budge an inch. When you shrugged in defeat, he pulled back, bursting into laughter as you collapsed in a heap on top of him.

Eventually gathering his last morsels of energy, he hopped up and flung you over his shoulder, clumsily carrying you upstairs to the master bedroom.

---

You were abruptly woken by Bucky shouting your name inches away from your face and frantically shaking you.

When he was satisfied you were awake, he jumped off the bed and dashed over to the window, jerking it open with one powerful movement.

You sat up and took a deep breath in, all of your senses immediately flooded by the overwhelming amount of smoke pouring in through the cracks in the door.

‘Come on.’ He grabbed your wrist and led you towards the window. ‘We can’t get out into the hallway, it’s too dangerous.’

You pulled your arm out of his grip. ‘What about Morgan?’

‘Steve’s in the room next to her, he’ll get her out.’

‘You can’t be sure of that Buck!’

‘Look, if there was any way to get to her, I would’ve. The door is completely blocked.’ Anger and frustration were leaking into his voice. ‘We don’t have a choice.’

You thought for a second before reluctantly conceding, lowering yourself from the window and jumping down to the ground. Once Bucky was out safely, the two of you sprinted around to the front of the house, your heart stopping when you saw Steve emerge from the front door on his own.

‘Steve? What the fuck happened?’

‘I don’t know, I was in the kitchen when something crashed through a window upstairs. Before I knew it the whole second floor was in flames.’ He paused, scanning the space around you. ‘Where the hell is Morgan?’

All three of you were still in silence for a second.

You didn’t even think, you just turned and ran as fast as you could through the open door. There was some vague shouting behind you but you didn’t look back.

Nothing was going to stop you getting to her.

You buried your mouth in the crook of your elbow, trying to get your bearings in the unfamiliar, smoke-filled house.

The stairs were completely ablaze, but the upstairs hallway was open and lined with bannisters. You backed up a little, propelled yourself forwards and jumped, just about managing to grab them and climb over onto the landing.

You crashed through Morgan’s door, breathing a huge sigh of relief when you saw her sit up in bed and stare at you wide-eyed.

‘It’s gonna be alright, come here.’ You pulled a blanket off her bed and wrapped her up tight. ‘You hold on to me and don’t let go until I say, understand?’

She nodded, throwing her arms around your neck as you pulled her to your chest.

The fire was advancing quickly towards her bedroom. You just about managed to beat it to where you climbed up, but there was no time to scale the bannister and carefully lower yourself onto the ground floor. You just gripped her as tight as you could and vaulted.

You jarred your knees as you landed, but Morgan had already started coughing into your chest, so you kept moving through the pain. As you sprinted towards the exit, piercing sirens started in the distance and the room began dancing with flashing red lights.

Finally emerging through the door, you set Morgan down and collapsed onto your knees.

Your head was swimming. You’d been running on adrenaline up until this point, but now you could really feel the swelling in your throat as you struggled to gulp in raspy breaths.

Your vision started clouding, the only thing you were able to focus on was the sound of Bucky hoarsely yelling your name. It sounded distant but it couldn’t have been, because the last thing you remembered was the unmistakable feeling of his arms wrapping tight around you.

---

A harsh, sterile light penetrated into the slit of your slowly opening eyes, burning your retinas and making you wince.

You felt your hand being squeezed, and you just about managed to peel your eyes open wide enough to see Bucky sitting beside you. His free hand moved up to rest on the top of your head, his thumb gently stroking your forehead

‘You are some other kind of stupid.’

The corners of your mouth curled up as you fixed your misty gaze on his face. ‘Is she alright?’

Your own voice shocked you, it sounded like it’d come from an elderly lifelong chain-smoker.

‘She’s good. She’s with her parents, they got the first flight back.’

You opened your mouth to ask him more, mainly about why the fuck the house burst into flames, but he cut you off before you could get the words out.

‘The doctors said you should try to not talk too much, your throat needs to rest.’ A mischievous smirk spread across his face. ‘So not a bad result overall.’

You tried to smother your smile and throw a scowl at him, but you just ended up bursting into gruff, scratchy laughter. His grip on your hand tightened and he leant forward, holding your gaze as he moved his face to hover over yours.

‘You can’t be doing stuff like that, I thought you were a goner.’

You brought your hand up to his cheek, feeling him settle into your touch.

‘You’re not getting rid of me that easily.’

---

#bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fluff #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction

341 notes · View notes

sugarmaplewings-fics · 4 years

Text

My Hero

Pairing: Kirishima x reader

Warnings: Detailed anxiety/panic attack (there's comfort, ofc), little bit of mutism

Author’s Note:

So it was requested by my friend, @sasha-annelie-quinn, that I do some anxiety comfort with Kirishima! I had fun with this one, even though some parts of it were a little hard for me to write. It feels like it's been too long since I've done some good old Kirishima fluff, so here we go!

Enjoy!

-Sugar

----------------≪ °✾° ≫----------------

Even in hallways as big as the ones of UA, it was easy to feel cramped.

The fluorescent lights seemed to burn painfully bright above your head, and the din of students in the hall unpleasantly flooded your ears. You were currently walking beside your boyfriend, Kirishima, who was in a different class than you. He was chattering about . . . something. Honestly, you weren’t sure anymore, what with everything going on around you and inside your head. It wasn’t as though you didn’t want to listen to what he had to say—you loved hearing him talk—but there was something else bothering you.

In a few minutes, you were going to have to give a presentation in front of your whole class. You figured you were prepared well enough, but you knew you’d lock up anyway. What with how everyone would be staring at you, the pressure would be too intense. After years of trying to speak in front of people, you knew most of your practice would go to waste. No matter how long you’d stand in front of the mirror and go over your cards, no matter how well you knew your topic, you’d forget everything as soon as you stood at the front of the room.

Such is your life.

Your stomach was already turning at the thought of what you were going to be forced to do in a few minutes. Nervously, you clutched your textbooks tighter into your chest, the hard covers digging into your skin. Maybe it would be helpful if you tried to calm yourself down a bit. You lidded your eyes just enough to still be able to see where you were going, and tried to take a few deep breaths.

Everything would turn out alright, you tried to tell yourself. Only fifteen minutes out of my life. And then I’ll move on. I’m not going to die. Maybe I’ll feel like it, but it won’t actually happen—

“Hey, (Y/N), are you doing okay?”

A hand rested on your shoulder, effectively jarring you out of your thoughts. Except, maybe it jarred you a little too much.

You startled, losing your grip on the books you carried in your arms. They fell to the floor with a loud thud, making a few other students in the hallway look towards you. Your feet stilled in place as you froze, trembling under the pitying gaze of passerby. You’d already felt so sick, nausea roiling deep within your stomach as the lump in your throat prevented anything from actually coming up. The white-hot fear that had been nagging at every tip of your nerves finally seemed to shatter, making your knees weak and your heart pound in your chest.

No no no, you thought to yourself, hating the way you were already breaking down over something so small. Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry, it’ll be one hundred times worse if you start crying, especially since you have to go to class in a few minutes, please, no no—

Your eyes stung, and even though you’d taught yourself over years of struggling with this to push it down, not to cry in front of everyone, your vision was already so blurry.

You thought you might have heard a voice speaking next to you, but it was as though you were a thousand miles away, or possibly deep, deep underground. Arms suddenly wound around your shoulders, effectively getting your attention. You felt yourself walking a few steps down the hall again before you were pulled into an empty classroom. The lights were off, and as soon as the door shut, the sounds of the hallway muffled to almost nothing.

“I’ve got you.”

You finally processed the voice above you, and how you were currently being held against Kirishima’s chest. You felt strangely secure, pressed up against him and wrapped in his hold.

“I want you to breathe for me, (Y/N), alright? Here, with me.”

You listened to the air flow into his nose, and noticed the way his chest swelled all the way out against your cheek. Copying him, your own chest expanded with a deep intake of oxygen. Instantly your nerves began to quiet down, and you held the air in your lungs for a moment just to feel it.

“And out again,” Kirishima murmured to you, letting his own breath escape from his mouth.

You continued to breathe with him for another minute until most of your trembling had ceased. Your arms reached to reciprocate his hug, finally squeezing his ribs as you let your face nuzzle back into his chest.

“Any better?” he asked, placing a hand on the back of your neck. You nodded, and he smiled faintly above you. “Are you able to talk?”

You thought for a moment, experimenting with putting your voice in your throat. Finally you shook your head.

“It’s okay, just listen to my heartbeat. I’m here for you, alright? You’re not alone, I’m not going to leave you until this passes.”

Kirishima leaned back against the doorframe, letting you stay latched onto him. He ran his hand down your back while you continued to inhale his scent, letting the familiarity of it comfort you.

Kirishima was warm. Kirishima was soft. His uniform blazer was gray and green, and his tie was red. You could hear his heartbeat, and the sound of him breathing—back to normal now. And there were still the sounds outside, even quieter as more and more students found their way to their next class.

Class….

“I can’t be late,” you forced out, shifting to pull away from your boyfriend.

“No,” he said, trying to keep you from leaving. “That’s not important now. I can explain things to your teacher, he’ll understand. You can’t go back out there like this.”

“But I have to. I have to present today.”

His eyes marginally widened with understanding, pieces clicking together in his head. “So that’s why you were upset earlier.”

“Yeah.”

He reluctantly let you go, still torn between calming you down and causing you more anxiety from skipping class. You stepped out into the hallway with him following, and you were pleased to find that your books were still on the floor, pushed against the wall in order to clear the walkway.

“Thanks for helping me,” you said to Kirishima as you gathered them back into your arms. “It means so much, you have no idea.”

“I know you’d do the same for me,” he said, smiling. “You should get going. Passing period is almost up.”

“Yeah.” Still shaken, you began on your route down the hall, turning and starting a pace that certainly didn’t follow the “No running in the halls” rule.

“(Y/N)!”

You skidded to a halt, whirling to look back at Kirishima.

“Come see me again after class,” he said.

You nodded and set off, and as soon as your fingertips touched the door handle to your homeroom, the bell rang.

…

“So how’d your presentation go?”

You cringed, having hoped Kirishima wouldn’t bring it up so soon. Just as he’d asked, you met up with him once you were done with your final class of the day. He was with you now, walking back to the dorm buildings. “Meh, it could have been better,” you grumbled. “I don’t think it was any good.”

He tilted his head, his hair a little messy after afternoon hero training. “Why’s that?”

You looked down at your feet as they moved over the sidewalk. “I froze up a couple of times and talked really fast. And everyone was watching me and they looked so bored.”

He thought for a moment. “Well, in all fairness to them, it is just a school presentation. What was it on again?”

You paused, then finally let out a small laugh. “Quirk regulations in the twentieth century. Okay, you’re right, I wouldn’t be too thrilled to have to sit through that either.”

Kirishima put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in towards him. “I’m proud of you, though, you know that right? You did something you were scared to do! That’s totally manly!”

Your lips scrunched in a nervous half-smile, turning to hide your face. “It’s nothing like what you do. Facing villains and stuff.”

“Maybe the two are a little different,” he assented, “but I am still proud of you. You’re so awesome, giving a presentation like that even after . . . that happened.”

You shrugged. “Thanks again for being there for me.”

“No problem.”

“Were you late because of me?”

He hesitated for a second. “Nnnnnooooo.”

“Did Aizawa-sensei yell at you again?”

“Maybe. Well, it’s not exactly ‘yelling’, it’s more ‘stern disappointment’.”

You chuckled. “Sorry.”

“I had good reason,” he shrugged. “And I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. Thanks for telling me what to do during one of your attacks, I would have probably been lost.”

“Of course.” You reached for his hand and entwined your fingers with his. “But I think you would have done okay, even if I hadn’t.”

He shrugged again. “It was still nice feeling a little prepared. It was a bit scary, though, not gonna lie. I thought I was going to make it worse somehow.”

“No, that was actually . . . perfect.”

He beamed at you, flashing his perfect, sharp teeth. “Glad I could help.”

You snorted a laugh, cupping his cheek in your palm. “My hero.”

He turned his face to kiss your hand, scarlet eyes glittering in the already setting sun. “You’re coming to my room now, right?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“I’m not done holding you for today. You left me right in the middle of a hug.”

“Oh no.”

He clutched his chest dramatically. “I know. So now you have to come over to my room so we can finish that properly. And you deserve to relax after everything, now that it’s over.”

You leaned into his side, letting your joined hands swing out in front of you. “That sounds wonderful.”

He grinned at you again, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Only the best for my Pebble.”

----------------≪ °✾° ≫----------------

Taglist: @aahilovetheatre @basicaegyo @hyunmin-1404 @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @rainy-skys-and-bright-stars @sendhelpimstupid @sxngwoos-ash-box @xoxopam4

#anxiety tw #kirishima eijirou #kirishima bnha #kirishima imagine #eijirou kirishima imagine #kirishima eijirou imagine #kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #request fulfilled!#sugar fics

118 notes · View notes

my-head-is-an-animal · 3 years

Text

Split

Stephen Strange x OFC

Warnings: Mentions of past relationship/sexual abuse (it’s kept to an absolute minimum!)

Content: Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn.

Summary: Stephen Strange has gone to Kamar-Taj to find a way to fix his hands, but what he finds is not just a path towards mastering the Mystic Arts. An old face from the past turns up out of the blue and Stephen is undeniably captivated by her presence.

Chapter 10 - The Paths We Choose

Stephen had been making progress in his studies and after The Ancient One leaving him stranded at the top of Mount Everest, he was able to travel using the sling ring. He couldn’t wait to show Ali when she got back. Much to his delight, she appeared talking excitedly with The Ancient One that evening in the same spot as always in the courtyard.

She seemed a bit panicked, panting hard, but talking with a slight smile, she looked as if she’d only just gotten off the plane. She was still beautiful, captivating and made him stop in his tracks. Her animated expressions and her soft hands moving at such a pace was something entirely unexpected to him, it made him smile. The other thing that was entirely unexpected was to see Ali wearing glasses. Thin, round, silver frames that only amplified her piercing grey eyes all the more. She was exceptionally pretty with or without glasses and Stephen felt his chest aching once again.

He watched her for a few moments longer, just getting wrapped up in her movements, when The Ancient One raised her hand to stop Ali from speaking.

‘If you choose this path then it will only lead to disappointment, dissatisfaction and disillusion.’ She said. ‘What you experienced with the electricity will give you power and you can learn to sustain it with practice, but I caution you against relying on it. It will not bring you the control you have been asking for.’

Ali was silent for a moment, Stephen wanted to step forward, he could feel her mood dropping and it was killing him to watch the disappointment flourish inside her.

‘But…’ she started. ‘But, there was no pain and I… I could help people, the way Tony wants me to help-‘

‘What about what you want?’ The Ancient One suddenly had a much softer tone. ‘You want to learn control, that’s why you came here. You’ve never held any interest in combat or learning the mystic arts, all you wanted was enough to allow yourself to live a normal life and now that you find you can use this shortcut to do more, your focus has been placed there.’ Ali looked more and more upset as The Ancient One looked out at the evening sky. ‘Ali, I will not stop you from pursuing whatever you want to pursue, your path is yours to walk, but I will ask that you continue your training here with the belief that you will yield the same results.’

Ali was quiet for a moment, she wiped away a few tears that had fallen took a breath. ‘Okay.’ She breathed and turned away to leave The Ancient One standing alone in the courtyard. Ali stopped, seeing Stephen standing watching her, he hadn’t realised at that moment that he had started crying as well. ‘Stephen.’ Just hearing his own name on her lips was a bliss he didn’t know he needed.

‘Ali.’ Stephen whispered back. ‘You’re so beautiful.’ He half laughed, making her smile just a little. ‘So beautiful.’ He repeated.

Ali slowly stepped towards him, observing him and Stephen felt his heart thump a little faster every time.

Finally, she stood in front of him and smiled a little wider. Her hand reached up to wipe away the tears that had fallen down his cheeks and Stephen couldn’t help but sigh as his eyes fluttered shut with the contact. After months of not being able to stand within a few feet of her, to actually be able to touch her again was euphoria.

‘Standing in the middle of the courtyard, crying,’ she said quietly. ‘Can’t be your best look.’ He could just about feel her breath on his face and he was desperate to see her again. Stephen chuckled and opened his eyes again to see her grey orbs filling with water and her cheeks turning red with her smile.

‘It gets your attention, so it can’t be that bad.’ Stephen joked back, making her laugh and bow her head in defeat.

‘Well, you’ve got me there.’ She admitted.

They stood staring at each other in silence for a few moments longer, Ali’s thumb stroked his cheek and Stephen didn’t have the will power to make it stop, but it became clear that her arm was aching.

‘I’ve missed you.’ Stephen said, quietly, the noise giving her permission to bring her hand away.

‘I missed you too.’ She nodded, gently biting her lip. ‘I’m exhausted though.’ She chuckled. ‘It was a long flight.’

‘I can see that, let me take you to bed.’ Stephen said, suddenly feeling his entire being light up with embarrassment. It didn’t go unnoticed by Ali either. ‘W-what I mean is, to your room, I meant, let me take you to your room, so you can sleep, I didn’t mean-‘

Once again, Ali’s giggle made him stop stuttering and feel a little more at ease with himself.

‘You told me you found it easy to talk to women.’ She teased him, gesturing for him to follow her to the corridor leading to their rooms.

‘It used to be, when all I was trying to do was get one night with them.’ Stephen admitted, making Ali shake her head, still smiling.

She bent down to pick up the duffel bag that had been left at the entrance to the courtyard and Stephen was suddenly in two minds, he wanted to carry her bag for her, but he didn’t want her to think he was doing it because he thought her incapable.

‘You okay?’ She frowned and Stephen realised he’d slowed down considerably.

‘Oh, yes,’ he said, catching up to her. ‘Yes, I just… it may sound strange, but may I carry your bag for you?’

Ali chuckled, frowning a little. ‘You don’t have to Stephen.’

‘I know and I know that it seems silly, but it would make me feel better.’ Stephen admitted. Honesty was always the best policy.

Ali stopped and looked at him. ‘Better about what?’

‘About my ability to be a man again.’ Stephen found himself confessing something that he rarely thought in because of the pain of it. He didn’t feel much like a man without his hands, not just because of his work, but because of other things he may not have been able to do for Ali. ‘I want to feel like a man again. I want you to see me that way.’

‘I do see you that way.’ She immediately said, making Stephen suck in a sharp breath. ‘Stephen, you don’t need to prove anything to me.’ He wanted to kiss her again, he wanted her to see that he was capable. ‘But if it makes you feel better, I won’t object.’

Stephen took a moment to wonder whether he should have taken it, but it looked like Ali really was giving him the choice. He wanted to feel like a man, this was something that would help. He gently took the bag from Ali’s grasp, feeling her fingers brush against his shaking ones. She didn’t stop him, but she never took her eyes away from his and it settled him in some ways.

‘Feel better?’

‘Much.’ Stephen smiled with her. They started walking through the corridors that led to their rooms and Stephen was unsure what to say, he just wanted to stare at her all day.

‘You haven’t asked me why I’m back.’ Ali noticed as they walked.

‘I think I’m just happy that you’re here, regardless of reason.’ Stephen confessed. ‘But in the interest of conversation, why are you back? You didn’t say you were coming.’

‘No, it was all a bit sudden actually.’ Ali breathed in. ‘I was in the lab working on a project, I hadn’t realised that there was still a small current in this circuit board, I got shocked and…’ she paused thinking on what happened. ‘A copy just appeared in front of me. Before I could really figure out what was going on, I reabsorbed it, but there was no pain. The cut where the shock has entered had healed and I wasn’t fatigued like I usually am. It was extraordinary.’ She spoke with such eloquence and grace, Stephen almost didn’t care at all about what she was actually saying. ‘There was no pain, nothing at all, my heart rate went up, my cut healed, but the fatigue and pain were just… non-existent.’ She bit her lip, thinking on the experience. ‘I came back to see if I could use it to help with my meditation, but The Ancient One isn’t so keen on me using it in case I become reliant.’

‘She thinks you might not be able to control it?’ Stephen frowned. Ali nodded. ‘Well, what do you think?’

‘I don’t know.’ She breathed a laugh. ‘I think it’s something worth looking into, but she’s right, I can’t become reliant on external stimulants. I need to be able to do this myself if I am to learn any kind of control.’

‘Did you find it stimulating?’ Stephen was again aware of his wording and his face flushed red, but Ali could only laugh.

‘To an extent, yes.’ She answered as they arrived at her room. ‘Though I think the lack of pain is what I’m craving more than anything.’

‘Are you in pain now?’

Ali looked up at him with her beautiful piercing grey eyes and gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘Aren’t we always in pain?’

Stephen could have cried, something flashed in front of his face, something that looked a lot like blood, but it was gone before he could focus or make anything of it. Was it her blood? His blood? Why was there so much? Was he just thinking on the worst? Making things up in his mind? If so, why did he imagine that in particular?

‘May I have my bag back? Or would it make you feel better to take it in for me?’ She was teasing him and it made Stephen smile a little more than he would have liked.

‘It would make me feel better, but I won’t intrude.’ He said and handed her bag back to her. Ali gave him a slightly quizzical look.

‘You really do love me, don’t you?’

‘I do.’ Stephen breathed an automatic response. ‘Very much.’

‘I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you.’ Ali’s mood was dropping rapidly and Stephen could feel the sadness radiating off of her.

‘I…’ Stephen wanted to take a step forward, to be closer to her, but his instinct was stopping him, she didn’t like so much proximity unless she gave permission and once again, Stephen couldn’t give her any reason to mistrust him. ‘It doesn’t matter to me how difficult this is, only that you’re happy with where we are… are you?’ He felt his resolve weakening.

Ali took a moment to answer. ‘No.’ She breathed and Stephen’s heart was about to break. ‘But only because I want to… do more… with you.’ Her cheeks flushed a furious shade of red and Stephen’s heart shot back up as he smiled, chuckling.

‘Well,’ Stephen held his hands behind his back. ‘I would like to do more with you as well, but I’m not going to until you’re comfortable.’ That seemed to dull the colour in her face marginally. ‘But, in my own selfish interest, I will ask just one thing. It’s been far too long since I last kissed you. Perhaps I could be reminded of what I’ve been missing out on?’

That pulled a laugh from Ali and it made Stephen happy to see her smile like that again. She calmed down, bit her lip and nodded, still unable to contain her smile.

Stephen took a slow step towards her, it had been far too long since he felt her so close to him, but somehow he knew he would kiss her and hold her again. He slid his still shaking hands up into her hair and slowly leaned down to brush his lips against hers, listening to the soft sigh that came from her chest. Stephen placed the gentlest of kisses to her mouth, resisting temptation to fully sink into her, knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist when she needed him to.

Stephen felt his stomach jolt when her hand moved up his waist, towards his chest, feeling her touch him in anyway was wonderful, to feel her want him was something else. Stephen let his hand drop to delicately wrap around her waist, listening to her dropping her duffel bag as she stopped resisting the urge to feel him pressed against her. The shape of her body was something Stephen knew full well he was in love with, he loved her curves, feeling her chest breathing heavy against his and the wonderful sighs and low hums that came from her throat was enough to send his head into a tailspin.

Stephen slowed down, knowing that any further and he was really pushing his limits, but Ali felt disappointed at his decreasing pace and it only served to have him pulling away enough to frown in question.

‘I can’t go any further than that.’ Stephen whispered. ‘You’re too beautiful to resist.’ He admitted and felt Ali’s chest raise in excitement.

‘You know, that…’ she stopped, her breathing a little heavy. ‘I just felt for a moment like… well, you know.’ Her cheeks flushed red. Stephen knew what she was trying to say, it made him feel good that she could feel so safe with him, but also sad that he missed an opportunity to be with her.

‘Yeah?’ Stephen smiled against her lips. ‘If you want me to continue...’

Stephen could feel her nervousness, her slight shaking and stuttering over each breath. He pulled away enough to lift his head and place a kiss to her forehead.

‘Whenever you’re ready and not a moment before.’ Stephen whispered.

Ali instantly relaxed, making Stephen feel a little better as well. He knew that she was tired from the flight, she was probably still confused about what happened with the copy and the exhilaration from coming back to a place she felt safe, was probably a bad combination anyway, she didn’t need to feel pressured by him to do anything.

‘You should get some rest.’ Stephen took a breath stepping back a little, giving them both some space. ‘It’s been a long day.’

‘Yeah.’ Ali breathed. ‘Thank you for walking me to my room.’ She smiled and her cheeks were flushed red once again. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘You will.’

Ali reached down to pick up her bag and Stephen slowly wandered towards his own room to turn in for the night.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

#stephen strange x ofc #doctor strange x ofc #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange x reader #doctor stephen strange #stephen strange #doctor strange fic #marvel fic

8 notes · View notes

astriefer · 4 years

Note

“Please hold me.” for thomastair (ofc bc that's what you said) 🥺

Thank you for this! @littlx-songbxrd you asked for this as well. I'm sorry it's so bad.

~~~~~

Trust me with thy heart

Pairing: Thomastair

Words: 4,537

Contains mild angst, some self harm and hurt/comfort.

Note I am awful at writing angst or hurt/comfort. This whole poor writing is based on miscommunication, much or less, or the fear to let others close.

~~~~~

Thomas wasn't fond of fights.

Demons were one thing. Their destiny as Shadowhunters was to protect mankind from those filthy monsters who invade their world. They brought disorder and death. The people he cared about were a different tale.

A light jest with his friends, why not? A banter with his father about taking the coat or not while going outside? Sure. But not a very tumultuous, tempestuous strife with them. He preferred them all to get along with each other.

Thomas liked even less when it was him involved in the disagreement.

He spent the last day jogging between massive training seasons, hanging out with his friends, and losing himself in his thoughts. Now, he avoided everyone in favor of reading Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. He made a special effort to tell no one where he was going, so non could bother him and ask him questions.

So Thomas was stunned when Ariadne Bridgestock, of all people, rushed through the entry in an unmatched combination of grace and ivory skirts, then flopped herself onto the armchair in front of Thomas.

While she had had a pleasant expression on her face, there was a dangerous gleam in her eyes. If Thomas hadn't known better, he would've sworn she came here to murder him.

"You and Alastair fought," she stated.

Thomas glanced between his book to her determined face twice, considering his options. Then, on behalf of good manners, he put a bookmark on the current page he pretended to be reading for half an hour. "Is it Alastair's way to tell me to speak to him? If so, please tell him not to embroil any other folks in our relationship."

"He hadn't sent me," Ariadne ignored the last part of his sentence. "But he did not arrive for our conclave."

A spark of concern lightened up in Thomas, yet he repressed it. He was angry with Alastair, Thomas reminded himself. "And what have you speculated I can do about it?"

She looked at him funny. "Talk to him, I presume."

"Ariadne," he tried, weariness falling heavy on him. "While I appreciate your concern, I doubt Alastair wants to see me. In fact, I doubt whether I want to see him right now. I know you confide in each other-" more than Alastair does with him, the bitter thought tore its way into his head. "And your intentions are well, but I will highly prefer to keep this between myself and Alastair."

He thought this would give her down and make her apologize. "Alastair wouldn't have sent someone else, and he didn't solicit help from myself," she said instead. "He would've given time to you both to collect your minds, and then come to you in clearer mind."

It was right. He knew it was. "So this parley is all you?"

"As I said, Yes. I worried for my friend, who happened to be your partner."

Thomas brushed his thumb on the spine of the book, musing over her words. "Why would you be worried?"

"He stood me up. I came by your flat later, just for him to say nothing has happened. When I asked where you were, he conceded you two had a big bump in the road."

"That's a nice way to put it," Thomas murmured. "I frankly wished to be left alone. It's nothing-"

"Thomas," Her amber eyes met hazel ones. "You are good at many things. Fighting demons, and keeping the rest of the Thieves out of trouble, for example."

He quirked an eyebrow. "And?"

"Lying is not one of them."

Thomas swallowed, endeavoring to hide the feeling of hurt off his face. Recalling what happened a few days before made his whole body ache in pain. "So Alastair and I had a row. It always happens with lads."

"It's not just a lad for you," she pressed. He was wide aware of the chastisement in her words. "It's Alastair. And never have I seen him the way he looked when I checked on him."

"What do you mean?" he asked after he perceived her words. "Alastair was absolutely fine when I left the flat."

"You have to see for yourself." Ariadne said, "Go to him."

Despite the knots formed in the abdomen, he dithered. "Things ended up stormy when we last spoke. Maybe he's still mad. Maybe I'm still mad."

It wasn't just Alastair who was mad. He wondered how Alastair had been this past day, and how was he feeling, among many other thoughts. Yet the cloud of exhaustion and hurt surrounding him perturbated the nervousness. He was allowed to be upset about what happened. It sure wasn't nothing. Not on his part, at most. Why couldn't Alastair just-

"Excuses are not appreciated," Ariadne announced, "So you better confront him already, or I swear I shall chase you to the end of the Earth with my electrum whip." Ariadne threatened, and that what had taken to wake Thomas out of his hesitation.

"Of course," he sighed, "Because I don't have enough troubles already."

She brushed it off again with a smile, and Thomas felt mildly annoyed. He hadn't shown it. "Sort it out. It will benefit the two of you to tackle the problem."

She left no place for arguments. Utterly abandoning the book, Thomas rose to his feet and went to leave the room.

He was glad to get out of the grip of this confusing confab, but he was even more unsure if to listen to her advice.

He was still angry with Alastair.

~~~~~

A veil of fog surrounded the city. It was a prevalent London day, cool and cloudy. The wind is blowing hard, welcoming passersby in a burst of freezing breeze. A thunderstorm on its way, they said.

But those were the last of things that perturbed Alastair's peace of mind. It matched his mood just fine. If someone was to describe him, curled up on his bed alone, he could imagine being portrayed as forlorn and tormented.

No, what bothered him was a particular someone that left and hasn't returned. Alastair hated he still hoped Thomas would return and make him less cold.

His breath was heavy, and his lungs burned like fire. He remembered words that haunted him for weeks in the past. I believed you were more than what others said about you. I conceived myself beneath all the harsh words, was someone with a kind soul waiting to be seen. Was it all a lie I told myself?

Darkness flooded his senses. Trying to get any portion of self-control on his body he could, Alastair rose to his feet, glancing out of the window on unsteady legs without seeing anything at all. Gather yourself together.

But the words burned deep then, and they burned deep now. That was a battle against himself he meant to lose. The cold spread not only from the world beyond the window but from within him. It pulled out his ugly head, writhing and furious, desperately trying to break free and rise to the surface. People walked in the streets, oblivious to his troubles just as he was to theirs.

Thomas wasn't there.

Thomas wasn't there, and Cordelia wasn't there, and anyone he loved wasn't there. He locked himself in their flat for the past day, overthinking and speculating and wondering why did he have to be the way he is. If Thomas had finally realized he deserved someone so much better than Alastair, would he be surprised? Alastair was aware of this fact too well. The way he looked at him when they fought, the shaky hands when he opened the door, and the hours of waiting in case Thomas will return, just for nothing to happen. What does it mean if not that Alastair finally made Thomas give up and leave?

This inner part of him was crying, demanded to be heard, to be set free. A shrill cry came to his ears, and it took him a moment to perceive it belonged to him.

His vision became vague, his head ached, and everything spun around. He tried to lay a hand on the wall - only to find he miscalculated the distance and fell ungracefully on his knees. His heart pounded in his chest while the darkness tried to pull him in; He tried to take a breath and dozens of small knives tore his lungs up. He shrank, gasping for air that didn't come.

Everything seemed blurry, all his mind could engross in was the words Thomas Lightwood told him, the cold truth dripping from them, freezing Alastair all over again.

Alastair was accountable for all the hideous things he'd done and said, unquestionably. How weak is he that he hides behind shallow faces and vicious words? What a dolt he is, hurting a person, mainly the only person outside of his family that seemed to genuinely care for him. His words rang in his head, Thomas's voice haunting every corner.

He sank lower, his breathing gurgling, reaching out in search of something stable, something that would serve as a pillar in the chaos that ensued around him. His hand extended out to the still air and then groped for something to hold on the floor. That came the way of a cold, sharp object that lay on the ground. He gripped it tightly, and he groaned in pain and relief at the physical ache that eased his mind.

"Alastair?" A voice called.

~~~~~

Thomas was about to lose his right mind. Alastair was trembling vigorously, barely able to stand on his feet that were shaking like a leaf swaying in the wind.

"Alastair," Thomas stuttered, with no response back. His indignation vanished to immediate panic. "Alastair?" he repeated more stubbornly.

His chest went up and down quickly; His eyes were wide like that of a deer caught in the automobile light. When Thomas tried to take a step toward him, the smaller man stiffened and stood bolt upright. Thomas stopped dead.

"I came at the behest of Ariadne," he said, just for the sake of talking. Alastair hadn't told him to quiet, so he kept going. "And because I was worried about you."

"Leave," Alastair hissed out frantically. Thomas couldn't stop the throbbing burn striking through his body.

Thomas took a few steps back, allowing Alastair his space. He had no temptation to leave as he requested - Thomas simply waited aside, for a chance Alastair would change his mind. He recalled the nights he woke up from a nightmare, dazed and overwhelmed with emotions, and how Alastair always reassured him in the dead of night.

This Alastair seemed lost in his own mind, unable to escape, and it terrified Thomas. Yet, he shoved the dread aside and put on the most relaxing facade he could. He was told to be quite good at it.

"I'm right here, Azizam."

"Everyone leaves. You can do as well."

Somewhere in his mind, the pieces joined together, like a colossal puzzle. Was he afraid Thomas would leave him? That he would give up on him? he told him he could leave in their run-in, because he thought everyone will leave him in the end?

"I don't know. I don't know how to do it." To cease making the wrong decision. To cease pushing people away. To cease hurting people. "man nemidânam."

"Alastair, can you hear me?"

As he found out, Alastair did not hear him. "I don't want to hurt you. I already hurt you so much." Alastair went on, choking on his own words. Thomas was in full panic mode, and he hurried further toward Alastair with barely contained alarm.

I find you worth any pain to come, Thomas thought.

"It's fine," Thomas said. "I am fine. I want you to be fine as well. It's much more important to me than whether you may or may not harm me."

Something split in his face, and he took a deep breath down his throat. His eyes snapped to Thomas. The terror on his face made Thomas's heart sink.

"Alastair?" he asked, but it didn't manage to elicit a response from the other man.

Thomas drew closer to Alastair, not missing the flinch passing the half-Persian's body. Thomas could hear his breath, shallow and trembling. He could painfully see the tremor of his hands. The wide eyes that so clearly tried to hold back tears. He took one step closer, and Alastair took one back.

Thomas imminently came to a halt. Alastair squeezed hard against the wall. He looked like a captive animal on the verge of losing hope, a man pushed to the edge, an injured soul.

Thomas took one step closer. With his enormous figure, it all needed to reach Alastair. He wrapped his arms around the shorter man, didn't let go even when Alastair squirmed, trying to shove him aside, fought to set free from Thomas's grip. His hold only tightened, and he used his strength to shove Alastair's head into his chest. He kept him close, kept even when Alastair protested, kept his hold when Alastair Surrendered abruptly, sinking into the soft material of Thomas's clothing, even when sobs began and his chest got wet from the tears of his love.

Thomas pressed his lips to the dark hair, held Alastair steadily while he cried. No words of reassurance passed between them. Truly, Thomas wasn't sure Alastair would have heard him if he tried. He knew the touch was what Alastair needed. Their embrace was clumsy and distorted, but it was enough. Enough to tell Alastair he wasn't alone; Thomas wouldn't have let him go through this alone.

With a soft sigh, Thomas finally let loose of his grip. He started to pull away and was surprised when he felt fists clasping on the fabric of the front of his sleeveshirt.

"Please," Alastair whispered desperately."Please hold me."

Thomas couldn't find it in himself to deny it to Alastair. They slipped to the floor. Alastair buried his face in Thomas's chest once again, shaking silently. Thomas felt his mouth forming words on his chest, although he could not tell which. All the while, his hands embraced the slim, shaking form of Alastair.

A few minutes had passed. Or an hour. Or a couple of days. Thomas didn't feel the time had passed while he tried to console his beloved one. He closed his eyes and concentrated on moving his hand on Alastair's small back, kept him close. The other hand came to caress the space between his ear and jawline, where he was creating circles on the tender skin.

Slowly, The dark-haired's breath became more even.

"Here you are," Thomas let a breath of both exhaustion and relief leave his body. "Can you hear me, Eshgham?"

"Y-Yes."

"Would you like me to get you a glass of water?"

"No."

Thomas sighed inertly as he held the other gentleman in his warm hands, promising reassurance and no judgment. Alastair, for the matter, clang to him as if he was drowning and Thomas was his only lifeline.

He never liked to fight with Alastair. It rarely happened, but when it did it left a bitter taste in his mouth and a pang at his heart. But he was not going to give up - not on this. He remembered his mother once told him couples fight, sometimes, because they still care about what the other does. It was their first argument with their new agreement. It didn't make him feel any better at the time. All his life he had been surrounded with unconditioned love, never exposed to the arguments and the imperfect details. It made him view love as just sweet and honey, while he learned that there's more with Alastair.

There's the giving. And the receiving. The trust in the other's intentions and the willingness to make them your priority foremost of all. The disagreements make you understand when your boundaries are and open a place for learning and acceptance. The balance you build with time, something he hoped he could shape with the man in front of him.

The trust part, to his belief, was something they still were working on. Alastair had leaned on him, and Thomas wondered it he thought now he calmed down, Thomas would leave him again. He did the last time.

"I'm not leaving," They locked eyes, and for some reason, he felt hope. "Alastair, I'm not leaving."

There are very few things he wanted more than Alastair. Verily, He was what he longed for above everything else. He wanted Alastair and everything he was.

Alastair didn't answer, but he averted his eyes.

"Are you ready to go now?"

Alastair seemed slightly lost, but he nodded and weakly stood on his legs. He followed Thomas while Thomas flung himself up and let Alastair sat on their bed beside him. The comfortable place always made both feel better - The mix of English and Persian and Spanish books on the bookshelves. The notebooks full of poems Thomas kept beside his side of the bed. Alastair's spears collection. The artworks they bought when they visited art galleries.Even the soft yellow light was a source of relief.

"You are mad," proclaimed Alastair in a hoarse voice.

"So are you," Thomas returned. Alastair shook his head, and Thomas's eyebrows rose. "So what then, if not mad?"

"Mostly nauseous," Alastair murmured, managing to startle a breathy chuckle out of Thomas. "But also bloody exhausted."

Thomas fumble after the right words, before deciding he should be candid. "I didn't like being apart from you in those few days. But I stick to what I told you before, Alastair." He saw it happening - the wall of defense Alastair was building up again after the last one had crushed. "Let me bring some fresh air into here."

Thomas tried to ventilate the room well while Alastair sank into the mattress and sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard. "If you call the London foggy, polluted air fresh, then sure."

A bit of relief passed because of Alastair's quip. He didn't lose it. "It seems you and my father share this opinion."

Thomas scanned Alastair, then noticed the cut on his right palm. Absentmindedly, he approached his side.

"Why did you do it?"

It took Alastair a moment to conceive what he was referring to. He hastily covered it with his other hand, but Thomas saw it. "I - didn't mean to."

Thomas watched the cut in awe as if it was imaginary. However, when he grazed the skin, Alastair winced.

Thomas wasn't sure how to counter this. Their fight. What just happened. Alastair didn't either. Or did he wish to pretend none of this happened? That he -both of them- weren't hurt?

This thought wasn't toleratable to Thomas.

And that's why, after he took his stele out of his dresser and was applying an iratze on Alastair's forearm, that he asked, "I want to talk about what happened the day before yesterday."

He could feel Alastair stiffening, his muscles tensing. "I was upset," Alastair said cautiously. "I shouldn't have snapped at you, Tom."

"You shouldn't have," Thomas agreed. He was done with the iratze and put the stele aside. "But that's not why I'm distraught."

Alastair shot him a tumultuous look. Thomas took a deep breath before looking Alastair dead in the eye. "You were upset, but you wouldn't tell me why. You grumble about things relentlessly, but when you're truly shaken you don't share at all. It's not - just this argument. It's not just one thing. Those small moments you hesitate whether to tell me the truth. The times you don't." He inhaled, letting the cold air fill his lungs. He resisted looking away from Alastair's face, didn't let his eyes flutter around the room like they were trying to do. "Love is also built on trust and communication. If we don't have those, what is left?" He didn't need to hear Alastair's reply. "We talk, and we share, yet I cannot understand why you're so grumpy at times. I need you to tell me."

"Can't one just be pissed off at the world?"

"Alastair."

"Many things can upset me," Alastair said. Thomas might have hallucinated it, but his voice was a bit shaky. "Do you want to hear them all?"

"Yes," Thomas answered immediately. His tone was sincere.

Alastair's hand reached to the other side of the bed, a nonverbal request. They still couldn't stop staring at each other. But not playfully, or lovingly, but earnestly.

Alastair, naked of his facade and any snide remarks. Alastair, whom he grew to know and rarely showed up to many else.

I do trust you. I care for you. were the meaning behind Alastair's gaze. All Thomas wanted is to lean on and forget everything. But still - it was not his pride making him relucent. That was much deeper than that.

He lingered there just for a moment too long, enough to make Alastair believe he declined the request, and his hand quirked in pain for a moment. His face became emotionless - and Thomas had feared he misleadingly deceived Alastair that he didn't want them after all. That he didn't want him.

In moments, he climbed on the bed. He coddled Alastair, silently and diligently. "Tell me. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing," Alastair retorted eventually. He rubbed his eyes and laid back on the bed board. Then after a moment. "Everything."

"I hate it when I see you suffer and I don't know why," Thomas whispered. "I want to help. More than anything. But you push me away and I am left to think it might be because of me, because-"

"No," Alastair said firmly, extending his hands to cup Thoams's. "You have never been anything but good to me. It's just-," he broke off.

Thomas searched his foggy eyes. "I don't blame you," he told him, "If it's hard for you. But trust me enough to tell me what bothers you, thus we could face it together." He collected his hands in his own, lifting them so he could kiss his knuckles. "I know I want to stand by your side whatever the cost." he was certain about that; No whirlwind to come could change it. "Will you let me?"

Instead of an answer, Alastair kissed him.

Thomas knew he was kind, forgiving, trusting. He knew Alastair was slow to trust, slow to reveal his true feelings, hiding behind sharp words to secure himself from being harmed by people close to him. He knew the world broke his heart - so viciously, and that he took the pieces that were left. It was undoubtedly hard. Alastair had changed so much, yet Thomas wanted to understand, to reassure Alastair they were in this together.

"Hamsar-am," Alastair said when they pulled away. "I will try."

Thomas smiled at the endearment term. His heart was throbbing fast. "I was mad," he confessed, "because you refused to tell me what's wrong. You pretended. And I - I don't want facades, my love. I want the truth. I want you."

"I don't want to be weak around the people I love," Alastair whispered, and Thomas understood. To what extent did he fear that if he shows weakness, his friends and family would suffocate him again, shield him from the world as they did when he was younger? How much he feared at slightest of weakness shown, he would be smothered as Thomas had been when he was too small, too fragile?

But Alastair never did that. He supported him in his way, allowed him to be weak without acting as if Thomas was made of glass. "So not weak to everyone," He was astonished he found it in himself to laugh softly. "Each other will be enough. We can be vulnerable with one another."

Alastair stared at him for a long moment. Eventually, a faint smile appeared on his lips. "Okay."

"This is just another way of trust."

So Alastair told him. He told him about the rumors he heard from the London enclave about his family, the looks he had gotten. Of the words of people who were white while Alastair was brown. He didn't mind, much, but it drew attention to his family. And to Thomas. Respectable family and a kind heart seemingly weren't enough to make the rumors - and who spread them - silence. The opposite is correct - the fire burned even brighter, and its flame was like cutting knives. The people who matter didn't care about their agreement, and Alastair long stopped paying attention to rumors. But when it was about Thomas, he said, he had been furious. The stories unfolded, the truth shone through, and the more Alastair talked - not just about rumors, but on the way some of the people treated him, of the Cornwall's townhouse and its residents, the things his soul troubled about were finally out.

Thomas listened, understood, stroked Alastair's cheek when he seemed to start shaking again, but now out of relief instead of concealed agony.

They sunk into a comfortable silence in the end. Up until Alastair inquired, "You were out for so long. Where were you?"

"At the institute," Thomas replied. The concept of coming back to his parents' townhouse, admitting the quarrel, rewinding it all in his head countless times while enduring Sophie and Gideon's worrying looks, was nothing he wished to do. "Or somewhere I could avoid anyone."

"And now?" he asked tentatively. "You come back?"

"I have no intentions to leave this bed even if Ariadne herself will come to pluck me off the sheets." He affirmed.

Alastair's smirk became genuine this time. "Ariadne was here today."

When Thomas said "I know" he got a quizzical look from Alastair so he supplied, "She found my whereabouts and made me go confront you. Not much subtly, may I add."

"Yes. This jinx made me open up the door and refused to leave until I told her what happened."

Thomas silently laughed.

"I..suppose it was rather cathartic," Alastair said. It was evening now, Thomas noted, and none of them found it in themselves to get up and eat supper. They just kept their bodies close, relishing their air of comfort.

"Indeed. This, this was good. Splendidly better than reading the same page over and over again in the Devil's tavern or pretending to care what waistcoat Matthew is taking to the impending party at Anna's flat."

"You thought the place you and your squad go to hide is the best place to hide from them?" Alastair asked.

"It seemed reasonable at the time," Thomas murmured. "Each of us has a kind of hideout, have we not?"

Where was Alastair's safe hideaway? At home, with a book in hand? At museums, drinking in art and beauty? Was it hiking in the streets of London by himself and enjoying the view and the whispers of nature?

"You," Alastair said. Thomas hadn't realized he voiced his question aloud. A tired, small smile played on Alastair's lips, yet his words were soft, plain and simple. Their eyes locked, and he could feel how genuine Alastair was. "You are my hideout."

~~~~~

Dictionary:

man nemidânam - I don't know

Eshgham - my love

Hamsar-am - my equal head, my better half

#alastair carstairs #thomastair #thomas lightwood #the last hours #my fics #thomastair fics #for the matter Thomas does NOT know how to help Alastair in the state he was in. He doesn't know the right way to approach this.#They just found solace in physical affection so he found it fitting there too #I'm sorry #littlx-songbxrd #carstairstessa #Besides I take centuries to write because not only I am extremely busy (and sunk way too deep into the fluff fic and Choi)#but have to wait for inspiration to strike. It works not another way.#so sorry

90 notes · View notes

a-bang-for-your-bucky · 4 years

Text

Welcome Home (Part One)

(NOT MY GIF)

Summary: After not speaking to her brothers for over a year, Peyton Rhodes’ life is turned upside down when her boyfriend of four years cheats on her. She uproots her life with WWE and returns home to Atlanta. She finds herself among great friends and she is finding herself again after being lost for so long.

WORD COUNT: 2,624 (well shit).

Pairings: Cody Rhodes x OFC (Sister), Brandi Rhodes x OFC (sister), Dustin Rhodes x OFC (Sister), past Seth Rollins x OFC, future Kenny Omega x OFC (maybe?), MJFx OFC( maybe?) Could end up being Matt Jackson x OFC (who knows) let the writing gods surprise us.

WARNINGS: explicit language, mentioned cheating, possible future smut (Warnings are subject to change as I continue writing and will be updated as needed).

A/N: This has been a WIP for over a year now. This will be multiple parts. It will be a slow burn. (MAYBE) I’m a sucker for the friends to lovers trope. Please do not think that this reflects my feels toward a certain wrestler (Seth). This story is strictly fiction. I do not own any of the characters except for my OFC(s). Please, please, please, give me feedback. I’m slowly working myself back into the fanfic world. <3

“Cody was right.” I cried as soon as my brother’s wife answered the phone. I hadn’t spoken to my brothers since they left WWE. Cody was upset that I wouldn’t leave with him. Brandi was my way of communication with them. She’d call at least twice a week. This week was different.

“I caught him. I went to congratulate him after his win over Finn and they were,” I sniffled, hurt coming over me again. “It was Mandy. I thought she was my friend.” I explained to my sister in law.

“Pey, I am so sorry. Please come home. You know AEW has a spot for you whenever you want it.” Brandi offered. It was the same thing she said to me every week, but now I’m ready.

“I just don’t know why.” I cried. “I was the perfect girlfriend. I basically put my career on hold for him. I thought he was, I thought he was it for me.” Brandi had said that they were going to be home for Cody’s birthday in a few weeks and invited me to come to the party.

“I’ll talk to Hunter.” I choked out.

Luckily, my contract was almost up and as soon as Vince heard I didn’t want to re-sign, he settled for my release. We didn’t have the best relationship, but Hunter advocated for me stating that it was best for the company as well as myself. He knew the situation and didn’t blame me for wanting to go.

I knew I had to go back one day. I just never thought it would be this soon. I parked my car in the drive. I could hear Pharaoh announcing my arrival before I could make it to the door. I made my way up the sidewalk to the porch. I took a deep breath and knocked.

Brandi opened the door immediately. “Well I'll be damned.” She said, “I can’t believe you came!” I smiled, embracing my brother’s wife.

“Like I would miss my big brother’s 35th birthday.” I lied and she knew it. If Seth hadn’t cheated on me, I wouldn’t be here.

Brandi led me inside where there were some guests who had gathered in the foyer. Brandi introduced me quickly, leading me through to Cody. “Hey, babe. Your surprise is here.” Cody, who was standing by the fireplace, talking to Dustin, turned and saw me.

Awkwardly, I raised a hand to wave. “Hi.” I whispered. Cody sat down his drink and walked over to me. I expected him to cuss and yell, but instead, he threw his arms around me, hugging me tightly.

“Peyton, I'm so happy you’re here.” He whispered. Dustin came up behind him.

“Long time, no see sis. You know, they invented this thing called a phone. You should look into it. Call your big brothers sometime.” Dustin fussed before hugging me too.

“It is really good to see you guys.” I tried to hold back the tears, but some escaped anyway. “How have you been? AEW has really taken off huh?” I said making small talk.

Cody nodded, “Yeah, I have the best business partners. I can’t wait for you to meet them.” Looking at my brother, he was truly happy. WWE had given him a few more stress lines, but seeing him now, you couldn’t tell.

He grabbed my hand, pulling me to follow him. He led me to Matt and Nick Jackson, standing with Kenny Omega and Adam Page. “Guys! Guys! Look who decided to show her face.” Cody beamed, smiling big. The four guys waved.

“Finally! We get to meet the prodigal sister.” Kenny Omega spoke first.

“Peyton, these are the guys.” Cody pointed to each of them. “Matt. Nick. Kenny. Adam.”

“Nice to meet y’all finally. I watch your show every week. You are all very talented.” They all mumbled a “thank you” in tandem.

The rest of the evening went by smoothly. We all sat and talked. Getting to know The Elite was amazing. It was almost as if I hadn’t been AWOL for a year and a half. When the party was over, I was helping Brandi clean up.

“Pey, you don’t have to help. You’re a guest.” She said, grabbing the glasses from my hands. I shook my head.

“I’m family. And family helps.” I smiled, taking the glasses back and continued to the kitchen. Cody walked in behind me with plates.

“Hey,” he started, “Thank you for coming.” He finished, placing the plates in the dishwasher. I added my glasses.

“I’m sorry.” I blurted out, turning to face him. Cody looked at me, confused. “I should have left with you. You were right about that place. My career, my relationship, everything, became a shitshow after you left.” tears began to fall.

“Pey, it’s okay. I’m just happy you’re here now.” Cody wiped the tears away.

“Code. I lost my title. Seth cheated on me, and I barely got any TV time.” Cody scoffed. He never liked Seth.

“He cheated on you?” Cody growled, and paced around the room.

I nodded, “I caught him. I went to congratulate him after his win one night and they were,” I sniffled, explaining to Cody. “I don’t know why.” I cried. “And then I lost my title, and then stopped getting TV time, unless I was on Seth’s arm.” I darted my eyes to the ground. “We still had to work together. After everything, I had to pretend like we were the perfect couple, until my last appearance.” Cody pulled me into a tight hug.

“I pissed a lot of people off with the way I left. I’m so sorry that affected you.” he whispered into my hair, like it was his fault.

“I don’t blame you, Code. I was granted my release.” I mumbled into his chest. He pulled back.

“What?” His eyes were wide.

“I asked for my release and Hunter pushed it through. I’ll be a free agent in 90 days” I explained. Cody smiled like a Cheshire cat.

“Babe! Dustin! Get in here!” Cody yelled, startling me. The both of them came running, looking for an emergency, but they only saw Cody pouring champagne for a toast. Confused looks covered their faces.

Cody gave everyone a flute and started a toast. “To our baby sister, the newest AEW superstar.” Brandi squealed and hugged me tight. The guys joined in.

I was finally home.

It was hard, walking away from my life in WWE; However, finding my place within the Elite was easy. Especially with Kenny Omega. He quickly became one of my closest friends. The next 3 months were the best of my life. The break from wrestling gave my body and my heart time to heal. Everyone did their best to hide that I was coming to AEW, even leaving fake trails that I was going back to NJPW.

After working out the details of my contract, I was officially signed with AEW. Cody wanted me to make a surprise entrance, interrupt one of his segments. Creative loved the idea of brother and sister reuniting, but they wanted to make it interesting. When my debut date came, I couldn’t have been any more nervous.

Sitting in catering, I was alone, lost in thought, picking at my food. It had been a long journey here, but they made it. AEW came to life and it was thriving. Double or nothing had passed, and that meant tonight was Dynamite.

“Guess who?” Someone had snuck up on me, covering my eyes. I smiled because I knew exactly who it was.

“Hmm, Prince Charming?” I guessed quickly. Kenny placed a sloppy kiss to my cheek.

“Close, but better.” He said uncovering my eyes. “Hey, princess. Just thought I’d come save you from your thoughts. What’s going on in that head of yours right now?” he asked, knowing I’ll tell him, taking the seat next to me.

I sighed, rubbing my face. “I was thinking about my journey, how I got here.” Kenny nodded, but didn’t say anything. “I was thinking about how I get to see Jon again, since leaving WWE, and I was thinking about Seth.” I finally spit it out. Seth, his name leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

“I knew something was bothering you. Talk to me, doll.”

“I was scrolling through Insta earlier. He’s engaged. I know I shouldn’t care, but I do. Not because I still have feelings for him, but because she is, was, my friend, and I don’t want him to do to her what he did to me.” I explained to him.

“That’s understandable, Pey, but people gotta make their own mistakes. Mandy knows what he did to you and she still said yes, so that’s on her.” Kenny said, ever the voice of reason.

I nodded in agreement with him, knowing he was right. I needed to focus on my new path, my new future.

“Peyton!” Cody called from a distance, Brandi following him. It was time.

Cody stood, center ring, proudly. He had won the TNT title at Double or Nothing. He went on about how he was issuing an open challenge every Wednesday.

I stood nervously behind the curtain, waiting for my cue. I was about to make my debut. My life has been a little crazy since I left WWE behind, but definitely for the better.

As an avid Fall Out Boy fan, I had struck a deal to have my favorite song as my entrance music. I had been using it for most of my career. The music hit, the crowd went crazy. “Holy Hell, that music can only mean one person. The sister of the American Nightmare. That’s Peyton Rhodes!” JR yelled into his mic as I strolled down the ramp, ignoring the crowd. “Peyton” chants filled the arena as I made my way to the squared circle.

“Peyton Rhodes has joined AEW and the crowd couldn’t be happier,” Excalibur added. I walked around the ring to the time keeper, grabbing a mic from Justin, and strolled on toward the ring.

The music cut, and Cody was first to speak. "Oh yeah. I guess we didn't announce this but Peyton Rhodes is AEW!" The crowd screamed at Cody's news, chanting "AEW".

I soaked in the cheers because I knew it was all about to change. I had been a face for most of my pro-wrestling career, and now I finally get to pursue the heel turn my fans had been begging for. I took in a deep breath and adjusted my leather jacket.

“Oh, Atlanta, shut the hell up!” I groaned into the mic. I revelled in the audible gasp that could be heard. “That’s right. No more sweet ‘Georgia peach’ Peyton Rhodes. I came to AEW to raise hell, and that’s what I’m going to do.” I wandered around the ring, stopping in front of a camera. “I’m sick and tired of wanting your approval. I’m here to get what I want. And I want it all.” I punctuated as I looked dead into the camera.

“Hear that big brother,” I turned and faced Cody, “Hell just arrived in AEW I hope you’re ready.” I gestured to the crowd, “I hope you’re all ready, because if you thought Cody was a nightmare, wait til you see me, the Dream Killer.” I dropped the mic, and rolled out of the ring. The crowd loved it. “Dream Killer” chants echoed in my ears all the way backstage.

I was greeted by Dustin, Brandi, and Kenny. “That was perfect, Pey, they loved it.” Kenny said as soon as I was in sight. I grinned, running up to him, jumping into his arms for a hug.

“The crowd loved you. They’ve been hoping for this heel turn since your WWE debut.” Cody said, smiling from ear to ear as he returned to the back after finishing his promo.

“For real, Pey! You pull off the ‘heel’ thing. I can’t wait to work on your wardrobe!” Brandi squealed, embracing me in a dancing hug. “Just think about the shoes, Pey, the shoes.” Brandi was way more excited about the outfits than the actual turn. She had helped me pick the one I was wearing. Black jean shorts, a front-zip black and white crop top, leather jacket, and black boots.

“I can’t wait to see where this takes me.” I said before we were joined by the rest of The Elite.

Nick was the first to speak. “Not bad, Rhodes. You might be a better heel than your brother here.” He elbowed Cody in the ribs.

Matt nodded in agreement, “For real Peyton, the crowd was so hyped for that turn.” He said with a soft smile, bringing me in for a quick hug.

I turned to face everyone. “Thanks guys. All of you. You gave me this chance.” I thanked them, “I promise I won’t let you down.”

“You’re a great addition to the AEW family.” Adam complimented, “Come on Ken, we got a match to get ready for.” he said before walking away. Kenny gave me one last hug before following him.

Cody and Brandi also parted as she had a segment coming up, leaving me with the Young Bucks. “Come on, Pey, lets celebrate!” We had walked back to catering where some more of the AEW stars were waiting. In the back, I spotted the one person I couldn’t wait to see again. I told The Bucks I’d catch up with them.

“Jon!” I screamed, almost running to him. When he saw me rushing toward him, he opened his arms, inviting me in for a hug. Hugging him was a blast from the past.

“Peyton fucking Rhodes. I heard rumors you were coming. Sweetheart, you knocked them dead.” He spoke into my hair. I gave him one more tight squeeze before pulling away. “Well, you look great.” He said, gesturing to my outfit.

“I’m heel now. Finally.” I boasted. I’ve been waiting for this for the longest time and no one was taking it away from me. Jon and I talked, catching up. I asked about Renee and he lit up. He was happy and that’s all I wanted for him. He was finally able to be the fighting champion everyone knew he could be.

“What about Seth? What happened? The last time I spoke to him, he said you guys were happy and he had bought a ring.” Jon asked, and it knocked the breath out of me. I knew he would ask, but I wasn’t expecting him to mention a ring.

“He cheated on me. With Mandy. They’re engaged now.” I said without choking up, which was a good sign. I could see the disappointment well up in Jon’s eyes.

“You were always too good for him.” I knew he and Seth were still good friends, but I appreciated the words nonetheless. Jon gave me one last hug before he got called away for his match, leaving me alone in catering again.

I found a table close to a TV so I could watch the end of Kenny and Adam’s match. They were well on their way to becoming tag team champions. I started thinking about what Jon had said about Seth, about him buying a ring. I couldn’t believe it. He was going to ask me to marry him and I would have said yes, had I not found him with Mandy. I was pulled from my thoughts by my phone vibrating. It was Seth.

I saw your debut.

You look good.

You’re gonna be a great heel.

I miss you.

I wish you would talk to me and let me explain.

I read and reread the messages a hundred times before replying.

Okay, Seth. When and where?

125 notes · View notes

waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 3 years

Text

Raise the Stakes, Part 3

Ok, so this section is a lot longer than the previous ones, which is specifically what I was trying to avoid by splitting it up, but I'm certain that there was no way to insert an act break in this without it ruining the flow of the action.

If this is the first part of the story you're finding, you'll want to get caught up:

Place Your Bets (prequel)

Part one Part two

Pairing: Jay White x OFC/ David Finlay x OFC

Word count: 3,007

Content advisory: graphic sexual content, language, mild violence that some may find upsetting or disturbing.

“Jesus, Jay, what the hell?” You push at his chest, not that it’s going to do you a bit of good.

“Where have you been?” He hisses.

“Oh, are you seriously going to do this? You know where I’ve been. I had a date, I spent the night with him. And then I spent the day with him.”

“Didn’t bother asking for my permission.” His tone is so icy and mocking, and so uncharacteristically controlled that you’re a little frightened.

You exhale and let yourself go limp. “No, I didn’t. And you know what, I don’t give a fuck. I’ve killed myself trying to make you happy and right now I have no idea why. So if you want to try to make me feel guilty for spending every minute I can with someone who doesn’t treat me like I’m beneath contempt, if you want to punish me for running away and feeling happy for a few hours, you go right ahead.”

Your breathing is so rapid that you know he won’t believe that you actually don’t care but what’s the worst he can do? Is it really going to be any worse than what you’ve put yourself through trying to make him love you back?

He snickers quietly and slides one of his hands around the base of your throat. He doesn’t squeeze or push, just leaves it there like a silent threat. He’s more than strong enough to strangle you without even having to exert himself. That’s crazy, though, isn’t it? Yes, he’s abusive and heartless and manipulative but he’s also someone you’ve known for years. There’s no way Jay would actually hurt you. Is there?

He leans his face close so that you can hear his breath rasping in your ear. “That’s sweet. Did your little boyfriend treat you nice? Did he make you feel special?”

“Jay,” you tell him, trying to keep your voice steady, “you need to get off of me right now. I don’t know if you’ve been drinking or taking speed or what but it has to stop.”

His hand pushes just a little further up and feels just a little heavier.

“Answer me. Did he make you feel good?”

“This is none of your business.” You give an exasperated sigh. “Yes. I had a great time. He made me feel like the most beautiful, most desirable-“

For the first time, Jay tightens his grip on your throat, cutting off your air and your words.

“So he fucked you well? Made you come? Had you screaming his name?”

He releases you again and in the wake of the terror of the last few seconds, you’re suddenly furious.

“Yes, he did. So many times. Best sex I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Oh, you want to be mean? Think you’re going to hurt my feelings like you haven’t been panting after me like some pathetic stray dog for years? I pay you, I let you get your little shots in, I fuck you which no one else has until the last week.” His hand drops from your throat but just as quickly, his other hand grabs a handful of your hair, pulling it so tight that you feel a few strands ripped out at the root. He twists your head to the side, pinning it to the pillow.

“Jay, you’re hurting me!” For the first time, the fear is in your voice. You’ve never seen him like this. You don’t know who this man in your bed is.

“You want to know what hurts?” He snarls. “I trusted you.”

“What are you talking about? What do you think is going on? It’s a couple of dates, Jay. I took a day off and didn’t tell you. Can’t you be a little happy for me?”

“I trusted you,” he repeats. “And you betrayed me.”

“Betrayed? Don’t be so dramatic. This is not about you.”

He grabs your throat again and squeezes.

“I saw you,” he drawls, biting down hard on your earlobe. “I saw you yesterday in his arms, all happy and smiling. You couldn’t even be bothered to close the fucking door.”

Your brain scrambles to catch up. Did he mean this morning? No, he wouldn’t have had any reason to be skulking around on a different floor of the hotel. Did Sanada say something after all? Then it occurs to you. Sanada hadn’t closed the door when he left the room yesterday. He probably hadn’t even thought about it. The door was almost always open. You’d closed it because you wanted to work. David had closed it because he wanted to keep your secret. Sanada had opened the door, gotten a drink, and walked out like he always did, and you and David had been so blissed out that you hadn’t noticed.

“Look,” you gasp, clawing at his hand, “we can talk about this. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

He gives a pained cry and bites down hard on your neck, making you cry out in turn.

“This is a huge fucking deal. I am not going to let that little mealworm wriggle in and take what’s mine.”

He releases your neck again and as you draw in oxygen, you frantically try to think of how to defuse the bomb on top of you. If he wants to, he can end David’s career in New Japan. He can easily stop the two of you from seeing each other. What’s clear, though, is that he’s not firing you, which would be a mercy, because if that’s what he wanted, he’d have done it already.

What’s also clear, and you hate yourself for it, is that you’ve never been more turned on in your life. Feeling the weight of him on you, the burning intensity of his expression and his words. It’s like he can barely control himself, that he’s fighting to stop himself from tearing into you. You’ve never seen him act like this about anything.

“No one’s taking anything from you, Jay,” you insist, turning to look at him when he loosens his grip a little. “I’m not going anywhere. I work myself to the bone for you and that’s not going to change.”

He gives a sardonic laugh. “And he’s so pathetically in love that he’s fine with the kind of work you do for me?”

“I didn’t mean that and you know it. That was never exactly part of the job description. But everything else stays the same.”

“Except that you’re fucking David Finlay.”

“Except that I have a life outside my job. And you won’t have to put up with me panting after you as you so delicately put it.”

“No.” He says it so loudly it startles you.

“What do you mean no?” You whine. “This is how normal people do things. Some people work together. They have relationships with other people. They don’t crawl into a coworker’s bed in the middle of the night and scare them half to death thinking-“

“No,” he repeats sharply.

“Why?” You whimper.

“You’re mine and he can’t have you.” He shoves the bedcovers out of the way and roughly runs his hands over your nude body. “He can’t have any part of you. Not your pussy, not your mouth, not your loyalty, not your feelings.”

You’re about to argue but he crushes his mouth against yours and although you know the only sane thing to do is fight him off, you reciprocate without hesitation, relishing the little moans and purrs that escape him as the kiss grows more and more passionate.

“I’ve been so terrible,” he murmurs. “My girl needs a reminder of why she puts up with me.”

He squeezes your breast, twisting his fingers around the nipple just firmly enough to make you gasp. And you know you shouldn’t, you know you should smack him in the head or scream into his ear and do whatever it takes to make him go away because you’re very aware what’s at risk. But as he kisses his way down your body, giving little hums and sighs of satisfaction when you twitch or gasp in response, it’s like the lovely memories you were clinging to when you crawled into this bed a few hours ago are becoming foggy and disjointed, like something you might have imagined to make yourself feel better about the situation you’re really in.

For the longest time, he lets his mouth hover around your pussy, just soft licks and kisses over the hollows of your hips, the inside of your thighs, and over the inner and outer lips, gently sucking on the flesh as his hot breath vibrates over your clit.

“This is the best smell in the world,” he murmurs into your skin, “and I never take the time to enjoy it.”

Your whole body is shaking by the time he starts thrusting his tongue against you. You want to push back against him but you force yourself not to, hoping to withstand his attention, to refuse to let him bring you to orgasm. The problem is that when he makes the effort, Jay is an incredible lover.

“Don’t hold back,” he cajoles, having detected what you’re trying to do. “Give into it. Let go.” He looks up at you and flashes an evil little grin. “I won’t tell, I promise.”

You try to curse at him but of course, he intensifies his actions and all you can do is grab hold of the sheet with all your might and try to stop yourself from screaming. He alternates fucking you with his tongue and lavishing attention on your clit, pausing only to keep encouraging you to relax and let it happen, to let him pleasure you and with each passing second, it seems more ridiculous to even try to stop it. You’re too far gone in every sense.

“Oh god, fuck, Jay!” Your silence gives way at the same time as your body and you blurt out his name like it’s the only thing you’re capable of saying.

He lifts his head just enough so that you can see the thick gloss of your juices on his lips and through his beard before he starts kissing you and touching you again. He stays away from your too-sensitive bud but his lips and fingers move everywhere around it, finding a whole ring of nerves outside and inside just begging for attention. You can’t even tell if it’s just powerful aftershocks you’re feeling or if you’re rolling through orgasm after orgasm. Does it matter? It does not.

Gradually he glides up your body, still rocking against you, caressing you all over as he moves, like he wants to make love to every part of you individually. You run your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp like you know he loves. You're rewarded with deep purrs of satisfaction, like he’s a big cat you’ve managed to tame. Usually, you don’t get the opportunity to touch him like this, but you figured it out early on and you’ve never forgotten.

You wonder if he knows he was the first man to make you come. You’ve certainly never told him. It’s not like you were that experienced but you’d been with enough men by the time you first got together with Jay that you’d pretty much given up hope that you’d meet a man who’d be able to figure you out. And then he’d come along and made you fall apart like it was nothing. He still can.

His kisses become more playful and ticklish, which gets you both laughing a little.

“You deserve it.” He says the phrase in the same singsong cadence that fans chant it during shows. “You deserve it.”

This gets you laughing even harder so that you’re almost caught off guard when he starts licking and nipping at your neck in earnest.

His rigid cock is sliding against your soaked pussy but he’s making no effort to enter you. You buck your hips a little to let him know he’s welcome.

“I don’t have to,” he tells you, running a finger ever so delicately down your throat and over your collarbone. “This is for you.”

“You don’t want to?”

He laughs. “More than anything. But for once I’m telling you it’s not about what I want. I mean it. You can send me back to my room if you like.”

“You know I want you.”

“Like this?” He thrusts his hips hard against yours.

“Exactly like that.”

He needs no further encouragement to guide himself into you, gasping like it’s the best thing he’s ever felt as he begins pumping into you.

“That son of a bitch fucked you all night and you’re still as tight as when I met you.”

A pained sound escapes you and the word “no” just after it. You cover your face with your hand and try not to picture where you were twenty-four hours ago.

Roughly, he pushes your hand back. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. You just feel so good, always so fucking good.”

He kisses you insistently but sweetly, pulling on your legs so that they curve over his broad shoulders, allowing him to push deeper inside you as he picks up his pace. As he moves, he rolls you a little further forward, to the point you think that if his arms weren’t firmly planted on either side of your head, the two of you would end up turning a summersault. The higher the angle, the deeper he’s able to get and the more contact he’s able to get with your g-spot, so that you’re practically screaming again as you feel the tension rising like lava in a volcano.

“That’s so good,” you whine, grabbing onto his bicep. You have to focus on pulling oxygen into your lungs or you’ll pass out. “I’m gonna come again, Jay.”

“I’m right with you,”

Your eyes close for a second before you feel his hand insistently rubbing at your cheek and temple.

“Open your eyes,” he rasps, obviously on the brink of losing control of himself. “I want to see those beautiful eyes when you come.”

You oblige and it’s just in time as you go to pieces, your muscles spasming and squeezing tight around him. And it’s only seconds before you feel him come hot and wet inside you, gradually slowing his movements until the two of you are still, hands running over each other as you catch your breath.

He finally rises, pushing himself down the bed and lifting one of your legs over his. You’ve never seen that look on his face before, like he can’t process what has just happened or how he’s feeling about it. He just sits there, stroking your leg as his expression goes through a series of subtle changes until his eyes come to rest on your pussy.

He’s not making any effort to conceal the hunger in his stare. His hand drifts up your thigh and he strokes at the apex of it with a calloused thumb.

“It’s perfect,” he mumbles. “Fucking perfect. The color, the shape, those gorgeous thick lips. It’s like I never want to look at anything else.”

“I don’t think anyone’s ever said anything like that to me before.”

“I wish I had. I wish I’d said it every time you let me have it.” He squeezes at the flesh just a little and teases pushing a couple of fingers inside. “I want to take a picture.”

“No way.”

“I know, I know. I’d just love to take a picture and send it to him so he could see what he’s missing. So he could see how beautiful it looks with my cum leaking out of it.”

You spring up and try to push yourself away but he instantly has a tight grip on your leg and gives a sharp bite to the inside of your knee.

“I’ll bet he was a good little boy,” he sighs, resting his head against your thigh. “I’ll bet he wore a condom for you so that you felt nice and safe.”

You can’t even speak, you're so angry.

“He did, didn’t he?”

“It’s none of your goddamned business, Jay.” You glare at him, wanting to wipe that infuriating smile off his face forever. “Yes, we used condoms. A lot of them.”

“Oh of course. I forgot what an amazing lover he is. All sweet and attentive.”

“Not as sweet as you think, asshole. But you’re right about amazing. Like I said, the best-“

“No, he isn’t.” He pushes the heel of his hand against your pussy, stimulating the nerves without making it physically painful. “Did you tell him you let me fuck you without a condom? That you stay on birth control for me?”

“Funny,” you sneer, “it didn’t come up.”

He stares at you, flicking his tongue over his lips.

“Why do you always have to be such an asshole?” You groan.

“Would you still be here if I wasn’t?”

That hits you like a glass of ice water and while you’re trying to think of a retort, he pulls you up onto his lap and starts peppering you with kisses like he hasn’t just behaved like a monster.

“You think I’m joking but I’m not,” he whispers. “I’m not letting you go away. I’m not going to settle for being the second most important man in your life. “

“I don’t think it would bother you if you weren’t thinking you were about to come second to David Finlay. Again.”

He locks his arm around you and stands up in one smooth movement. You know how hard he works on his body and how strong he is but your jaw still drops a little at how effortless it is. He doesn’t even have to hold you particularly tight to support your whole weight.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You croak.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

And with that, he whisks you off to his adjoining room.

#jay white imagine #jay white fanfic #david finlay imagine #david finlay fanfic #njpw fanfic #wrestling fanfic #wrestling imagine #wayward wrestle writing

34 notes · View notes

woozisnoots · 4 years

Note

hey alex, i'm kind of in need of an emergency request :/ i've not been feeling well at all mentally for the past few weeks and its been eating me out from the inside. it may be symptoms of being burnt but yeah. i was wondering if could you write something with jihoon and him comforting you by taking your mind off the thoughts and distracting you with little things such as talking or showing you what he's working on? the little things can be completely up to you to choose c: - lissa

hi baby 🥺 i’m sorry i know this is late! >< exams has me 🦀 crabby this season but i know how stressed you’ve been lately and i wanted to make sure you got the jihoon you deserve !!! and ofc, i’m always here if you ever need to talk it out with anyone 💓

𝙤𝙣 𝙖 𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙙𝙖𝙮

° pairing: jihoon x reader ° genre: fluff ° summary: you’re stressed, blessed and jihoon obsessed. ° word count: 1080 ° warning: none! ° a/n: [unedited]

masterlist!

a typical thursday night for you and your boyfriend is as follows: both of you having no where to go but jihoon’s study since it was the only place to provide quiet and facilitate creative freedom. on the far end, jihoon has his eyes glued to the computer screen as he has one hand hovering over the whites of his keyboards while the other grips the fret board of his guitar. while you on the other hand, tap your apple pen on your temple staring at a half blank canvas on your iPad. for legal reasons, sadly, this was all for school.

you swear the idea came to you in the morning but just as the day went on, the picture slowly started to drift away like your will to tolerate the amount of assignments your professors love to give. going into to art school, you would think the semester would fly by doing what you love.

but there’s a line between an occupation and a hobby; and lately, you’re too worn out to know the difference.

you abruptly turn off your iPad, almost slamming the deice hard on the couch. you were done for the day. this sucked. ask any artist, musician, or writer what it’s like to be stuck in a creative block or burned out, if you will. it is anything but a good time, and this was only just the rise. it’s late, you’re tired, and you desperately want to go home and sleep it off.

after relinquishing your anger, you cross your arms over your chest as you slump down onto the cushions, not noticing your boyfriend look over at you.

“everything good over there?” the concern in his voice makes you pout.

“no,” you replied honestly, not putting anything past him. “quite the opposite actually. i’m mentally exhausted. i have no idea what to draw, and even if i do draw literally anything, it’s probably gonna suck donkey ass.” the memory of

“so like, ass ass?” jihoon’s hysterical laugh now fills the room while you take a few seconds to register what he said. finally realizing the joke, you mutter a ‘oh my god’ under your breath before throwing the nearest plushie his direction.

“can you shut the f-” your words are still overpowered by jihoon’s laugh, not bothering to finish your sentence. besides, the sight of him catching the medium sized elephant plushie and hugging it so tight to try and suppress his giggles makes you forget what you were going to say anyways. “you’re real lucky that you’re cute as hell.”

“not as cute as you and your button nose.” you practically roll your eyes out of your sockets at jihoon’s remark, gagging at the sight of him being intentionally adorable. he only does this when he knows you’re upset. you let it pass though, like you always do since you’re one of the only ones he acts cute to.

“well, if you’re not particularly doing anything right at this moment, how about you come over here and help me with this melody?” jihoon rolls his chair out to create a space for you to come over.

“you know i know nothing about music right?” you say doubtfully.

“come on, all you gotta do is choose between these two samples. i have it all set up, you just gotta tell me which one sounds the best” he prompts to you.

eyeing your iPad at your feet, you stick out your tongue in annoyance. well, it’s not like he was wrong. you definitely weren’t revisiting your assignment for awhile. but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t add a little bit of fun in the mix.

“and what’s in it for me?” the palm of your hands find the edge of your jawline, patiently waiting for your boyfriend’s answer. he’s always quick to find the catch to your antics, it’s just a matter of what he’s willing to offer.

“let’s see,” he says as he mimics your position with his elbow resting on his desk and his hand meeting his cheek. “a free ride back at our place, food on the way there, and…”

he rolls his eyes to the ceiling, displaying a full face of concentration. all his options sound deliciously appealing, but you need something more to cure the never ending trauma that dawns over you so the obvious solution is purposely wait a little longer to see how far he’ll go for you.

“a back massage? and extra kisses?” jihoon finally concludes.

“in addition to you cleaning up the laundry on your side of the bedroom,” you add, proudly smiling.

“deal.” with that confirmation, you gladly prance over to stand beside jihoon, letting your hands press against the desk to support your stance.

jihoon, however, stares at you with a look of immense confusion. “what are you doing? i have a spot reserved just for you.”

now, there are technically only two available places to seat at his studio. granted, it is a snug studio to begin with but you can make room if you’re creative; unfortunately, yours was running out at the moment. there’s a single sofa, essentially for you to fully stretch out your limbs as you worked, and a single wheely chair for himself.

but this time, your boyfriend apparently wasn’t about to let you uncomfortably lounge around on your feet even for a second. no, he thinks his lap is a much more comfortable place.

“i lied, i’m almost done with the song. i just wanted you near me,” he whispers near your ear as he securely wraps his hands around your waist.

your usual self would have made a snarky comment at his sneakiness, but his attempts to make you feel better prevail and you lean your head to the side to meet jihoon’s.

“well now you get kisses to go with it,” you turn your head slightly to face him, cuffing both his cheeks so you can clearly see the array of brown shades in his eyes. ones that could take you away for hours on end and make you feel like you never left reality.

your face relaxes as you feel the warmth of jihoon’s hand gently placed on top of yours. what started off as a bad night, the thought slowly dissolves from your mind the longer this moment lasts. and with a delicate kiss to seal your boyfriend’s lips, you move on. thankfully, with life in your favor and jihoon by your side.

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #woozi #woozi fluff #caratwritersclub #jihoon #jihoon fluff #seventeen fanfic #woozi fanfic #seventeen scenario #woozi scenarios #seventeen imagine #woozi imagines #seventeen au #woozi au #seventeen x reader

94 notes · View notes

wiypt-writes · 4 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 4. Low Flying Stationery

Summary: Steve realises that the only way out of the seeming hole he’s dug himself into is to come clean about his feelings to Katie, only that’s easier said than done.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! Angst and a pair of total dumbasses in love… A/N: Once again, a huge thank you to @angrybirdcr for her lovely little edit.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 3

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“I went under, the world was at war, I wake up and they say we won. They didn’t say what we lost.”

“Yeah, well we’ve made some mistakes along the way. Some very recently…”

Steve woke up with a start, taking a deep breath as he blinked, coming out of his sleep addled haze. It didn’t take a genius to work out why his mind had taken him back to that particular moment in time, and it wasn’t wasted on him either that this time he was the one who had made the big assed mistake the night before…

Glancing at his clock, he decided that 5:00 am wasn’t too early, so he changed and headed out for a run, pounding his frustration out on the wet ground beneath his feet. He was so annoyed at himself for simply letting Katie walk out with no protest at all. He should have stopped her, gone after her, he realised that now.

It was official, he was the world’s biggest moron.

He knew now that the only way to salvage anything from this mess was to be honest, regardless of how she felt or didn’t feel as the case may be. So, as he thundered round past the Lincoln Memorial for the fourth time, he started to plan out exactly what he was going to say. By the time he got home an hour and a half later, and climbed into a scalding hot shower, he was feeling slightly more positive.

He just hoped she’d hear him out.

***** After a night of tossing and turning, alternating between being angry at herself and pissed at Steve, Katie had also been up at a ridiculous time, but unlike Steve she had curled up on her sofa with a film, counting the minutes down until it was an acceptable time to call her brother.

“Seven thirty AM?” Tony drawled as he answered. “You wet the bed?”

“Fuck off” She shot back “No, just had a shitty end to yesterday and thought I’d call to hear a friendly voice. Beginning to wonder why I bothered.”

“Bad day?” Tony’s voice softened “Ok Kiddo, I’m all ears.”

“Nah don’t wanna talk about it.” Katie said, and she didn’t. There was NO WAY she was telling Tony about Steve and whatever the hell nearly went down. That was a whole shit storm she didn’t want landing at Steve’s feet. “So what’s new with you?”

“Nothing much.” Tony sniffed.

“How’s things with you and Pepper? Still behaving?”

“I’m insulted you even asked me that.”

“I know you too well.” She chuckled.

“Well, if you really wanna know they’re going great. I’m thinking of taking her out to the Island in a couple of weeks. A dirty week away…”

“Ok too much information” she grimaced as Tony’s chuckle hit her ears “You’re nasty”

“I’m in love!” He said in a sing-song voice, making Katie roll her eyes.

“I never thought I’d see the day where you love someone more than yourself.”.

“What is this, Kiddo? Insult Tony day?” He scoffed making her laugh. “I love lots of things more than myself.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“You, Pepper…” the line was silent for a few seconds before he finished “Nope, that’s it.”

Katie laughed “I’m honoured.”

“So you should be, it’s a very hard list to make.”

They talked for another half an hour about all sorts of crap, Katie simply happy to hear her brother’s voice as it had been weeks since she’s seen him, far too long in her opinion. Eventually they both had to get ready for work so after breakfast and a shower she felt a little better although her stomach was still flipping slightly at the thought of seeing Steve. He’d messaged her a few times last night but she’d completely ignored him, and was feeling a little shitty about it now, if she was honest.

But, there was nothing she could do except apologise and hopefully they could move on and in time forget it.

When she walked into the Tactical Ops Office, Clint and Natasha were already in there, eating a pastry each, both with a coffee in hand and she was touched, as always, to see one waiting on her desk for her. But not touched enough to let Barton get away with using her desk as a foot rest.

“Get your feet down…” Katie slapped at his legs.

“Rude,” he muttered, removing them and placing his feet on the floor. “I bought you coffee.”

“Which is both appreciated and needed.” she pecked him on the cheek. “Thanks Hawkeye”

“You look like you aint slept all night.” Nat eyed Katie shrewdly as she shrugged off her coat “Who is he?”

“I should be so lucky” Katie mumbled dropping into her chair. She didn’t tell them that the reason she hadn’t slept all night was thanks to a certain blue eyed super soldier, but not because he was in bed with her, more so because he wasn’t.

“Better take a nap this afternoon then.” Clint pointed at her. “Want you on good form for the party.”

“What party?” Katie frowned.

“Rumlow’s 40th…”

She groaned. “That’s tonight?”

“Yeah.” Clint nodded, before he let out a snort as he looked over his shoulder at Nat “Now this is gonna be interesting.”

“What?” Katie frowned

“He’s referring to the fact I’ve been planning an outfit for a few days…” Nat yawned, examining her nails.

“Yeah and seeing you try and figure one out in a few hours, Nova, is gonna be amazing…”

“Not like I’m short of options,” Katie shrugged “I mean half the shit in my closet hasn’t seen the light of day in years.”

“You can always gift it to me.” Natasha quipped back

“Speaking of gifts, has anyone done a collection for dearest Brock?” Clint looked around. “I mean it is his 40th party after all, we should probably get him something…”

“Like what?” Nat asked.

“I dunno. What’s he into?” Clint pondered.

“I know what he’d like to get into.” Nat responded with a smirk. “Nova’s pants…”

At that Clint let out a bark of a laugh just as Steve walked through the door, expertly catching the pencil that Katie threw at the Archer.

“Beware low flying stationery.” Steve quipped as casually as he could, tossing the item onto the desk in front of Clint who leaned back in his chair, putting his feet back on the surface. Steve locked eyes with Katie for a second and he saw her take a deep, steadying breath before she looked over at Clint as he responded to Steve’s joke.

“It wasn’t flying, it was thrown.” he smirked. “Just Stark here getting a little upset about Nat’s joke.”

“I wasn’t upset, it was just a shit joke.” Katie rolled her eyes

“But it’s true, that’s what’s so funny!” Clint snorted “Admit it, you know he’s after a bit…”

“Can we just change the subject, please?” Katie groaned, turning to the keyboard on her desk. She could feel Steve’s eyes burning into her back as she tried to concentrate on the screen, ignoring him.

“You coming tonight Cap?” Clint asked

“Rumlow’s 40th?” Steve asked and Clint nodded

“Did everyone remember except me?” Katie looked round.

“Pretty much.” Nat nodded

Katie scowled.

“You’re a proper little ray of sunlight today.” Clint snorted at the expression on her face.

“I told you I’m tired.”

“Try going to bed and sleeping.” Nat quipped and this time it was a highlighter pen that flew across the room.

“Carry on and it will be a stapler.” Katie frowned. “I was alone, thank you. Unless you count my pillow.”

Steve looked down at his feet

“Was the pillow good?” Clint asked, and she glared at him, picking up the stapler as he laughed, holding his hands up.

“Anyway, Romanoff…” Steve deftly changed the subject as Katie slammed the stapler back down. “You ready for ops drill or…”

Nat groaned and pushed her chair back across the floor with a scrape. “Slave driver…catch you later Stark”

“Yeah see ya…” Katie didn’t bother turning round.

“I’m due on the range in 10 with the new recruits so…” Clint stood up and followed Nat before he stopped and turned back, glancing over his shoulder again before he spoke.

“Listen, don’t tell Widow I asked this but what’s the dress code for tonight? I better start sorting out what I’m wearing whilst I get chance…”

Katie stopped before she turned slowly in her seat and smirked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“You hypocrite! It’s smart casual and if you don’t want me to tell Nat, it’ll cost you a beer”

“A beer for your silence… why haven’t we done this trade before?”

“Fuck off!” she flicked him the finger as he disappeared out of the office leaving Steve and her alone.

“Hey.” He spoke gently, testing the water “You alright?”

“Yeah” she nodded, looking up at him and he smiled, that fucking smile again and she cleared her throat. “Honestly I’m just tired.”

“You ran out on me.” he pointed out, studying her face.

“You didn’t exactly stop me Steve.” she shot back and he sighed.

“I know.” he swallowed “But you could have messaged me back.”

“Sorry, I was just…” Katie ran her hand over her face. “Actually, I don’t know what I was to be honest.”

There was a pause, a little awkward silence filling the room before Steve took a deep breath.

“Listen.” he began, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “About last night, what…well, what nearly happened. I err, I wanted to say that I-”

“It’s fine.” Katie cut him off quickly. “I get it, it was an emotional day and there was a lot for you to process and deal with. I mean, I was all over the place so I expect you were too. Guess we just…”

She trailed off and something inside Steve died a little. She’d felt sorry for him, that was the only reason they’d shared that moment. He struggled to keep his face straight as he shrugged, looking down at his hands, all thoughts of his planned speech flying out of his head.

“We’re okay, right?” Katie looked at him, and he glanced up, smile fixed on his face.

“Sure” he nodded, hopping off the desk. “Listen, I need to…” he pointed to the door.

“Yeah, course. I have a tonne of stuff to do anyway. I wanna get home in time for a nap”

He chuckled. “So I’ll err, see you tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah, see you there.”

Katie watched him leave and as soon as he was clear of the room Katie took a shaky breath trying to stem the tears that were threatening once more to pour down her cheeks.

******

A wave of sound, both music and the noise of chatter hit Steve’s ears the minute he opened the door. He spotted Nat and Clint leaned against the bar and after saying hi to Rumlow and anyone else who greeted him he made his way over to the other two avengers and smiled.

“Hey Cap” Clint said, clapping him on his shoulder. “Beer?”

“Thanks Barton.”

Clint ordered his drink as Steve glanced around the room, looking for that familiar shock of brunette.

“She’s not here yet.” Nat drawled and he looked at her.

“Right.” He nodded simply, accepting the beer.

“Nice shirt” Clint grinned and Steve glanced down.

“Very modern.” Nat said,

“Romanoff,” Steve rolled his eyes. “You’re a pain in my ass…”

“She’s a pain in everyone’s ass.” Clint shrugged and Nat simply quirked an eyebrow at him as Steve gave a small chuckle, taking a slug of his beer.

“It’s one of my more endearing qualities.” she quipped.

Clint opened his mouth to say something but stopped as his eyes fell on someone and he smiled. Steve turned slightly to follow his gaze to see Katie making her way over towards them and boy, he had to stop his mouth falling open because she looked amazing. Tight black jeans, patent red heels and a sleeveless red top that plunged down her cleavage and tightened in to her waist before flaring out slightly. Her make up looked different, it was still light but she’d done something to her eye lids as they shimmered with a gold colour that made her eyes stand out even more.

Clint dropped a kiss to her cheek when she reached his side and Steve got a sudden hit of her perfume, the underlying floral tones that he associated with her, and he took a deep breath.

“About time…” Clint smiled at Katie. “We thought you had got lost.”

“Yeah, sorry I needed a nap.” she shrugged, nodding to Natasha and Steve.

“You want a drink?” Clint turned back to the bar waving at the tender.

“Yeah, I’ll have a gin thanks.”

“I like this.” Nat mused, her hand toying with the hem of her top. “New?”

“No, I dug it out from the doldrums of my closet.” she smiled, thanking Clint for the drink as he handed it to her. “I told you, I forget what’s in there sometimes.”

“Must be hard being so rich you can afford that many clothes you forget what you have.” Nat smirked, and Katie flipped her off drawing a snort from the red head.

“Table over there.” Clint spoke, nodding over to the right. “Shall we?”

The four of them made their way over and settled into a comfortable conversation as normal, but both Katie and Steve were ridiculously aware of one another. The smells of cologne and perfume, the feel of his shirt clad arm as it brushed against hers when he moved, her laugh which rang out over the table…

It was torture for them both.

After four rounds of drinks however, Katie had started to relax a little, dare she even say enjoy herself, so it was bound to be a matter of time before something else went wrong.

And it did, in spectacular fashion.

“Who’s round is it?” Clint announced “I’m ready for some shots…”

“Mine, I think.” Katie glanced round for one of the guys who was providing table service, when someone talking to Rumlow caught her attention. Tall, short dark hair, dark denim jeans and a white shirt. To most of the people in the room, the back of that man could have been anyone. But to Katie, well, she knew instantly who it was.

And her good mood sank as fast as it had been rising.

“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.” She mumbled. Steve, who had felt her tense next to him, looked down at her as Natasha frowned.

“What?”

“Ward’s here…”

Clint’s hand slipped and he almost sent the remainder of his beer flying as he scanned the room, his eyes narrowing.

“Ward as in, your ex Ward?” Steve asked, feeling the heat rise in his neck. She nodded and across the table Clint started grinding his teeth in a combination of anger and irritation.

Katie watched the back of her ex’s head, and then he turned to look around the room and their eyes locked. His mouth fell open slightly before he composed himself, and turned back to talk to Rumlow, running his hand through his hair, the way he always did when he was trying to act cool.

Katie snorted and turned back to the table.

“Want me to go punch him?” Clint leaned over towards her. “Because I’d really like to.”

Steve found himself thinking that was a great idea but Katie shook her head.

“Just ignore him. I am.”

*****

After three further gin and tonics and two tequilas had worked their way through her system Katie excused herself and headed out to the bathroom. Once she was gone, Clint shook his head.

“I cannot believe that fucking prick showed up.” He growled, waiving the waiter over. “Damned it I hate him.”

“I gathered.” Steve smirked as Clint ordered another round of drinks.

“I mean…what the fuck…why is he even here?” the archer continued to rant and Nat gently laid a hand on hi arm.

“Clint, don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?” She soothed.

“You didn’t see her Nat, that night when she caught him…she was a mess.”

“So was his car.” Natasha grinned and Clint snorted.

“His car?” Steve asked.

“Yeah…” Clint gave a small laugh. “She smashed up the body work…and I left four arrows in his tyres.”

Steve felt a surge of affection the archer as he took a deep breath, looking around. There was no sign of Katie, or Ward. Something seemed a little off, like things weren’t quite right…

“I’m gonna go check if she’s okay” he stood up, missing the glance that Natasha and Clint shared.

As it happens, Katie wasn’t ok. Nothing about walking out of the bathroom and bumping, literally, into your cheating fucker ex was ever going to be ok.

“Hi K.” Ward said, as his hands gently grabbed round her arms steadying her, his familiar smell washed over her senses. She pulled back immediately, shaking off his grip.

“Don’t call me that.”

He sighed “C’mon…”

“What do you want, Grant?”

“Hey, you bumped into me.” He chuckled. “You look amazing by the way.”

She snorted, and looked away.

“Look, I just wanted to say, well, I hate how we left things, you know? And I…”

“How we left thigs?” Katie’s eyes locked back onto his as she let out a sarcastic laugh. “The only thing I left was your apartment after finding you in bed with some blond bimbo.”

“The biggest mistake of my life.” Grant sighed, “I honestly mean that…”

“Is this the part where you say sorry for cheating on me and beg for my forgiveness?” Katie watched as the dark brown eyes that she had once found irresistible bore into hers and she felt the anger simmering again. She’d worked so long to get this man out of her system, but here he was, daring to try and smarm her into accepting an apology. The sheer audacity of it was making her want to scream.

“I am sorry. I genuinely am…”

“You’re sorry you got caught. There’s a difference.”

“No, that’s not it.” Grant shook his head. “There hasn’t been a single day where I haven’t thought about you and how I fucked up.”

He ran his hand through his hair and Katie shook her head.

“Let’s be honest, she wasn’t the first was she?” She looked up at him. Grant dropped his head and that was all the confirmation she needed. “Our relationship, it was a car crash.”

“I loved you.”

“Seriously? You’re trying that one?” She looked at him, and then burst out laughing. “Oh Jesus…” She shook her head in disbelief and made to walk round him but he grabbed her arm.

“What’s so funny?”

“Let go of me.”

“I asked you a question…”

“And she asked you to let her go.” A familiar voice said and Katie looked up to see Steve stood in the corridor, hands on his belt buckle as the door to the main bar area swung shut behind him, causing the loud background noise to fade slightly. “She won’t need to ask again.”

“Sorry…I…” Ward, let go of her arm as he composed himself and extended his arm in greeting. “Captain Rogers. We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m-“

“I know who you are, Agent Ward” Steve looked at him, not even moving to take the man’s proffered hand, and he saw Ward’s jaw twitch, as his arm dropped back to his side, fist balling and unballing.

“I see. ” Ward raised an eyebrow, looking from Katie, to Steve and he took a deep breath and nodded. “I meant what I said. I really am sorry.”

Katie didn’t reply, simply watched him leave as he brushed past Steve who moved to the side to let him pass, but only after shooting him one last contemptuous look before the Captain turned back to Katie.

“Are you ok? Did he hurt you?” Steve asked her, stepping forward, noting she was rubbing the place on her arm where Ward’s hand had gripped.

“Hurt me?” she frowned.

“Yeah, your arm.” He nodded to it.

“Oh, no.” she said, shaking her head as her hand moved. “That was just weird.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah, I mean, well for so long I thought about what I’d say to him when I eventually did see him again, you know, how much he hurt me, broke my heart, but right then when I got the opportunity, I realised I actually don’t give a shit anymore.”

Steve smiled. “Good, I’m glad he didn’t upset you.” There was a pause before he gestured over his shoulder. “You err, you wanna go back in?”

“Do you think anyone would notice if I left?” She shrugged. “I don’t wanna be here anymore and there’s a bottle of wine and a pint of ice cream at home with my name on it”

“What Ice cream?” Steve asked, looking at her, raising his brow hopefully and she shook her head, chuckling.

“Mint choc chip.” she looked at him, before she turned to head towards the door of the bar before she stopped, and spoke again, without looking back. “Suppose I can share.”

With that she pushed the door open and Steve grinned, following her out.

*********

“I don’t know why you wear shoes so high if you can’t walk in them?” Steve snorted as Katie let out a groan, kicking her shoes off as soon as they stepped out of the elevator.

“Because they look good.” She shrugged. “I’m just gonna get changed, won’t be long. Grab yourself a drink.”

Whilst she was in the bedroom Steve did as he was told and grabbed a beer for himself, and poured Katie a glass of wine before carrying them into the lounge and setting them on the coffee table. He had to stop himself from staring when she walked back into the room, all long legs and thigh tattoo, in a pair of denim shorts and a hoody. She dropped heavily onto the sofa besides him, taking her wine and gulping down a large mouthful.

“You sure you’re ok?” he asked, looking at her.

“Stop asking me that, Steve.” She snapped. “I’m fine.”

“Sorry, I didn’t…”

“No, I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “That was uncalled for.” She looked at him and gave a soft smile. “I’m fine, honestly. And thank you, for being there before.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Steve shook his head. “I care about you Katie, you know that. And, well, frankly, when I saw him with his hand on you, I wanted to smash his face into the wall.”

Katie let out a huff of laughter as she glanced at her wine glass. “You’ll have to get behind Tony in the queue.”

Steve looked down at his beer, before he took a deep breath. “The guy is a dick.” he said, tilting side on so his arm was over the back of the sofa behind her. “And I don’t mean that just because of tonight. If you were my girl I wouldn’t be looking twice at anyone else.”

Katie smiled, as she looked up at him. “That’s because you’re a gentleman.”

“No.” he shook his head, his blue eyes locking onto hers. “It’s because you’re worth so much more than that.”

“Sure.” she shrugged and Steve pressed his lips together in a firm line of frustration.

“Don’t…”

“What?” she frowned.

“Do that.“ he pressed.

“Do what?”

“Put yourself down. You do it all the time” he sighed.

“I don’t.” She swallowed, looking away.

“Yes, you do. You think so little of yourself but you shouldn’t. Katie, you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met” With that he took a deep breath, there was no going back now. The hand that wasn’t draped around the back of the sofa reached out and tangled in hers and as she raised her head to look at him, her eyes were filled with tears and he swallowed, his mouth feeling suddenly dry as the blood pounded in his ears, his heart beating so rapidly he thought it might burst through his chest.

He had to make her understand, just how deep his feeling went.

His right hand gently moved from the sofa back to the side of her jaw where he simply cupped her face and she closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. When she opened them again, it was just in time to see his gaze flicker to her mouth, before he leaned forward, a movement that was slow and seemed to take forever, until his lips met hers in a soft, sweet kiss that set every single nerve in her body on edge.

Steve pulled away slightly, just enough so that he could look into her eyes, make sure she was okay with this, and finding nothing but eagerness on her part, he pressed his lips back to hers.

The entire world around them faded to nothing and they both relaxed as this time the kiss deepened slightly, his hand still cupping her cheek as he slid his tongue gently across her bottom lip. She obliged, opening her mouth slightly and at the touch of her tongue on his Steve felt a jolt of electricity surge up his spine. Eventually they broke away and Steve gently slid his nose along hers unable to keep the smile off his face as their foreheads rest together.

“Where did you learn to kiss like that, Captain Badass?” She whispered and he gave a chuckle.

“To be honest with you…” he sat up slightly, his right hand returning to where it had been before, resting on the back of the sofa “I don’t think I have until now.”

She grinned and tucked her hair behind her ear with a hand that was trembling from nerves, adrenaline and absolute pleasure at being kissed by the utter God of a man sat on her sofa.

“So err…” Steve licked his lips. “I know this might be a little late, so to speak after, well, erm, yeah, but I’d really like to take you out, you know, on a date?”

Katie blinked as he stuttered over his words, and suddenly became aware she was chewing on her lip. She felt heat in her cheeks as she looked at him and nodded, smiling softly. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

That crooked grin she knew and had come to love spread across his face.

“You free tomorrow?” he asked before hastily correcting himself “It’s Saturday, or is that too soon? We could always go next weekend instead if you want or-”

“Steve,” she cut him off, gently squeezing her fingers round his, “tomorrow is fine.”

“Great, tomorrow…that’s…great…” He trailed off as Katie held his gaze.

The air between them seemed to crackle and this time it was her that initiated the kiss. This one was slightly deeper, the fire in her belly was hotter and that naughty part of her would have loved nothing more than to throw her hands round his neck and pull him down on top of her. But Steve Rogers was nothing if not a gentleman, and she didn’t want to rush into anything. She’d waited too long for this to fuck it up by moving too fast. With that in mind she willed herself to pull away.

“So err, you wanna watch a film or…” She glanced at the TV.

“Yeah…” Steve gave a little chuckle, his eyebrows raising a little before he took a deep breath. “You need another drink?”

Katiee nodded and he hopped up off the sofa, taking her empty glass to top it up, frankly glad of the chance to cool down. He’d had to stop himself then from pushing her down on the couch, but he knew that wouldn’t be the right thing to do. He wanted to do this properly, it was too special to risk.

Katie flicked through the android box, and with a grin found the perfect film, one that was a comedy, not romance or action, something easy.

“The Sandlot?” Steve asked as he handed her the filled glass, reading the title on the screen. “It’s about baseball?”

“More about kids having adventures over summer but yeah, baseball features a lot. It’s funny, you’ll like it”

“Sure I will.” Steve said, as he settled down next to her.

She pressed play on the film, threw the remote onto the coffee table and lifted Steve’s arm, sliding into place beneath it, tucking herself in against his side with her legs curled up beneath her. It was something she’d done so many times before but this time, well it felt different. Steve pressed a kiss to her head before turning his attention back to the film, his arm draped over her shoulders, fingers gently tracing shapes on her upper arm.

They sat in the dark living room, watching the film, not another word shared. They both laughed, Steve grimacing at the Chewing Tobacco scene where the kids all vomited off the side of a fairground ride, it reminded him far too vividly of the time he had barfed after riding the Cyclone, and at the end when it showed one of the kids playing for the LA Dodgers Steve was the first one to break the comfortable silence, letting out a little snort.

“I still don’t like the fact they aint in Brooklyn any more”

“Really, you never mentioned it.” Katie said sarcastically, sitting up.

He rolled his eyes before he stretched. “I should be going.”

“Yeah, it is late.” Katie agreed, standing up as he did. “And I got a big date tomorrow.”

“Yeah” he asked, paying along as he walked to the door “Anyone I know?”

“Just some guy from work.” she shrugged. “He’s pretty hot but don’t tell him I said so.”

Steve laughed. “You’re a nightmare, you know that?” he smirked.

“Yeah but, you love it.” Katie shrugged as the elevator arrived.

“Yeah, I do.” Steve smiled softly, dropping a gentle kiss to her lips. “Goodnight, Doll.”

“Night Stevie.”

He squeezed her hand and stepped into the elevator and as soon as the doors had closed, a huge shit eating grin spread across both their faces.

***** Chapter 5

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #katie stark #chris evans #chris evans characters

102 notes · View notes

debbiechanclub · 4 years

Text

Best Two Out of Three, Part 26

This is it: the last chapter of BTOOT 😭

I wrote a long, sappy post about what this means to me *months* ago when I thought we would finish much sooner than we did (whoops), so I won’t get into all that again. However, I will say that this is a huge accomplishment for me because I have never finished a multi-part fic until now. But I didn’t do it on my own. I absolutely could not have completed this in the time that I did without @hotyeehawman, and BTOOT absolutely would not be the fic that it is without her. So thank you so much, Lauren. We wrote a whole ass 123,419-word, 228-page mf’in fanfiction novel in less than a year 😳

And, at the risk of sounding cheesy AF, we couldn’t have done it without you all, either. The response to this little wrasslin’ fic consistently blows us away. SO THANK YOU. It means more than words can say. So once you finish reading this last chapter, please come scream at me in your tags, in the comments, in my asks, in my DMs. Because I cannot wait to hear your thoughts.

Alright, enough of that 🤧 I’ll let you get to reading 😉

Best Two Out of Three

Part: 26/26

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC, Matt Jackson x OFC x Cash Wheeler, Adam Page x himself

Word count: 7.8k

Warnings: Language; MAJOR angst

Catch up on previous parts here.

Tag squad: @freshlysqueezedmox @comeasyoudar @heelchampbucks @bec0m @betsy-bradock @linziland13 @gabbynorth98 @exe-darbyallin-exe @librathepheonix13 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @kingswitchblade

Callie pulled her phone out of her purse to check the time again. 8:57 a.m. She put it back and glanced anxiously around the hotel lobby. She and Cash had agreed to meet there at nine to head to Orlando, and with each passing minute she worried that it would be Matt who stepped out of the elevator instead.

Their conversation had played on a nonstop loop in her head all night. This all happened way too fast. Yeah, I guess it did. Over and over again. Except, in her head, it didn’t end the way it had last night. Instead of Matt walking off she called out to him to wait. She told him that the reason she’d been avoiding him was because she felt guilty about how much she enjoyed being with him. Her brain told her it was wrong, but her heart told her otherwise, and because she didn’t know how to reconcile the two it was easier to just avoid the issue all together.

And that’s exactly what she was doing now: avoiding the issue by going to Orlando with Cash. And she wasn’t just going for the day—she was staying the night at his place.

It had been Cash’s suggestion that she spend the night. It’ll save me a round trip, he’d said via text. It made sense; they both had to be back in Jacksonville for Dynamite tomorrow, so there was no point in making Cash drive four extra hours tonight. So, Callie had agreed.

But, deep down, she knew she’d mostly agreed because it helped her avoid Matt that much more.

She pulled out her phone again, but rather than check the time she opened the camera and flipped it to face toward her. Her double black eyes had worsened from last night, turning an ugly bluish color, but thankfully some full-coverage concealer had made them barely noticeable. Even so, she pushed her oversized sunglasses onto her face. The last thing she needed was people thinking she was a battered woman.

The elevator dinged, and Callie’s chest constricted as the doors slid open. Mercifully, it was Cash.

“You ready?” he asked as he moved toward her. “Sorry I’m a little late.”

She nodded and jumped up from her seat. “Mhm,” she said as she grabbed her suitcase. She couldn’t leave the hotel fast enough.

* * * * * * * * * *

The drive to Orlando was mostly quiet. Cash had asked her if there was anything in particular she wanted to do or see, but she’d just told him she was up for whatever. She knew absolutely nothing about Orlando outside of the fact that Disney World and Universal Studios were there and the little bit she’d seen when she’d stayed with Britt. But Cash didn’t seem bothered by her apparent lack of enthusiasm; he’d just grinned and said, “I got you.” It made Callie’s stomach flutter.

They dropped off their bags at his place and she met his English bulldog, Pawla, before they set off for their first stop of the day. Cash seemed excited as he steered his truck into a parking lot in front of a large complex. Callie, however, was more than just a little confused when she saw what it was.

“Go-karts?”

She hadn’t meant to sound so disappointed, but Cash just let out a laugh. “What? You don’t like go-karts?”

She didn’t answer, looking skeptically out the window at the building. For whatever reason, it made her think of Alex. Go-karts seemed more her speed. She frowned. I wonder if he took her here, too.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Cash said. “I think you could use the adrenaline boost.”

“I can think of better ways to get an adrenaline boost.”

As soon as she said it, Callie wished she could take it back. It had just slipped out, implication and all. She looked hesitantly at Cash. He was smirking.

“I’m sure you can,” he returned. Callie felt her cheeks burn hot behind her sunglasses.

“Come on,” he repeated as he unbuckled his seat belt. “I’ll let you pick where we go to lunch afterward.”

He got out of the truck, and Callie drew in a deep, calming breath through her nose as she did the same.

Maybe avoiding Matt wasn’t the only reason she’d decided to stay overnight in Orlando.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex still hadn’t gotten over what had happened at the Labor Day party. In a word, she felt awful. She wanted to text Callie and apologize again, but between nearly breaking her nose and all but telling her to stay away from Matt, she doubted she wanted to hear from her. So, in hopes of boosting her mood, she’d decided to sit out by Kenny’s pool and soak up the last vestiges of summer while she still could.

But, so far, it hadn’t worked.

Her phone chirped next to her on the lounger, and she picked it up and unlocked the screen. She had a text from Trent.

Hey loser. You have plans today?

She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips as she typed back. Not really. Why?

She hit “send,” but instead of setting the phone back down she opened up Instagram. She clicked on Jay White’s story and let it autoplay through a couple more people before it unexpectedly came to Cash’s story. It was a Boomerang video of an indoor go-kart track. Alex recognized it; he’d taken her there one of the first weekends she’d stayed with him in Orlando.

A banner appeared at the top of her screen with Trent’s reply. Because Sam is in town if you want to come hang out.

That caught her off-guard. Sam, the boys’ friend who she’d first met five years ago. Alex had had no idea she was going to be in Jacksonville. Had one of them told her and it’d slipped her mind? But she didn’t think too much of it as she opened the text and sent her response.

Idk. After yesterday I kind of just feel like being a hermit today.

She went back to Instagram and refreshed the page—and her eyes widened at the first picture that popped up.

Callie, a bright smile on her face as she posed in a helmet at the very same indoor go-kart track from Cash’s story.

“Are you shitting me?”

“There you are.”

Alex nearly dropped her phone on her face at the sound of Kenny’s voice. He gave her an amused look. “You alright?”

“Yeah…” she started. But she thought better of it and huffed, “No.”

Kenny cocked his head in concern as he sat down on the edge of the lounger next to her. “What’s wrong?”

Alex let out a sound that was half sigh, half groan. The last thing she wanted to do was to complain to Kenny about Callie and Cash, of all people. But if she couldn’t talk to him about it, who could she? “I’m just frustrated with the whole Callie situation,” she breathed.

She glanced at him from underneath the bill of her baseball cap. He frowned sympathetically at her. “I know, baby. But you didn’t hit her on purpose. If she doesn’t believe that it’s her problem.”

“It’s not just that,” she interjected. “According to Instagram she’s in Orlando with Cash right now.”

His brow furrowed in confusion when she said that. Alex knew exactly what he was thinking. “I don’t give two shits about Cash,” she assured him. “He can do whatever and whoever he wants. Honestly, I expect bullshit like this from him. But I don’t get where Callie’s head is at. Where the hell does she get off blaming me for ruining her relationship with Adam while she’s off driving fucking go-karts with the guy who stabbed him in the back? It hasn’t even been two weeks since she left him!”

“Because it’s what Callie does,” Kenny blithely returned. “She thinks she’s blameless in everything and doesn’t take accountability for anything. This isn’t the first time she’s shown you that’s exactly the kind of person she is.”

“But we were friends, Kenny! Somehow, we got over all the bullshit and became friends, and then fucking Adam…”

She trailed off, her voice growing thick with emotion, and looked to the ceiling. She didn’t want to get upset. But it was hard not to. She felt betrayed. That was the only word for it.

“Hey.” Kenny put a hand on her bare leg, drawing her eyes back to his. “Do you want my honest advice?”

She nodded.

“Stop wasting your energy on Callie and Adam. They’re not worth it, Alex. You’ve given them so much of your time and effort and what have you gotten in return?”

A tear rolled out of the corner of her eye and she quickly wiped it away. She didn’t need to answer him. They both knew the answer. “I know,” she softly agreed. “You’re probably right.”

A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Of course I am.” He leaned over and kissed the side of her head. “I was thinking about ordering sushi for dinner tonight. That always makes you feel better.”

She perked up a bit at that. “Can we get sake, too?”

He nodded. “Yes, I’ll get you sake, too.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

He gave her leg an affectionate squeeze and stood. “Well, I’m gonna go get a workout in. Wanna join me?”

Alex couldn’t help herself. “Is that a euphemism?”

He grinned. “No, despite how much I want to take that bikini off you right now.”

She just playfully rolled her eyes in response.

“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand. “Endorphins will make you feel better, too.”

Alex emitted a dramatic groan as she put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. “Not if you try to kill me like you did last time,” she argued.

“But I always take good care of you afterward,” he said. “That was a euphemism, by the way.”

She returned his smirk. “Yeah, I got it.”

* * * * * * * * * *

To Cash’s credit, the go-karts had been fun—but Callie was more than happy to take the lead on the rest of the day. She’d picked out a restaurant on International Drive for lunch (Cash had groaned and said that was where all the tourists went, to which she’d cheekily replied that she was a tourist), and afterward he’d convinced her to ride the Ferris wheel at ICON Park, where he’d pointed out some of the different areas of the city to her (Callie, who was afraid of heights, had kept a death grip on his arm the entire time). Then, at Callie’s request, they’d driven around some of the neighborhoods so that she could get a better feel for them (“Obviously, I recommend my neighborhood,” Cash had said). Overall, it had turned out to be a good day after all, and Orlando was looking more and more like the place Callie wanted to move.

But, the more time she spent with him, the more she started to wonder how much of that feeling was due to Cash.

“What’re you craving?” he asked as they sat on the couch in his living room.

“You pick,” she returned. Pawla lounged between them, and she reached down to scratch her behind the ears. “I’m honestly still stuffed from lunch.”

“Chinese it is,” he decided, and he pulled out his phone to order. Callie did the same, but to open up Instagram—and she found that Alex was the first person in her stories queue. She stared at the little circle of her profile picture, hesitant. But she was too nosy not to look, so she angled her phone screen away from Cash and clicked.

There were only two pictures in her story. The first showed her in sweat-drenched workout gear lying face-down on a gym room floor with the caption, “@/kennyomegamanx tried to kill me again.” The second was of her smiling in satisfaction in front of a takeout container of sushi. “He made up for it,” the caption read.

“I guess Alex and Kenny aren’t hiding their relationship anymore.”

She froze and glanced at Cash out of the corner of her eye. That was the second time that day she’s put her foot in her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “They’re probably the last two people you want to hear about.”

But Cash shook his head. “I don’t care. They can have each other.”

Callie frowned. She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but he spoke up again before she could.

“Do you prefer beef and broccoli or chicken?”

She thought for a second. “Beef.”

A few more clicks and he finished putting in the order. “It says it’ll be here in thirty-five minutes,” he said as he stood from the couch. “You want a drink? I have a bottle of The Rock’s tequila, it’s really good.”

Callie’s nose scrunched up. “Do you have vodka?”

“Yeah. You want it on the rocks or mixed?”

“Mixed please.”

He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Callie occupied herself with petting Pawla until he returned with their drinks a few minutes later. “Here you go; vanilla vodka and Coke Zero.”

“Oo, that sounds good,” she said as he handed her the cocktail. She took a sip. He’d made it just right, not too much vodka, not too little.

“So, what’d you think of Orlando?” he asked as he sat back down. “Did I convince you to become my neighbor?”

His choice of words made her stomach flutter again. “I think so. There’s more to do here than in Jacksonville, and a two-hour drive to work is a lot better than a cross-country flight.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I like it. Dax is planning on moving back to Asheville, but I think I’m gonna stay here. It’s grown on me. Plus, I like Disney and Universal Studios too much.”

“Yeah, I definitely want to check those out,” she returned.

“We should plan a weekend,” he smirked. Callie took a sip of her drink to hide her blush.

They fell into silence, and they both turned their attention to the random show Cash had put on the television. But there was something hanging in the air; Callie could feel it. She was about to speak up when Cash beat her to it.

“So, we’ve avoided the topic all day, but I kind of feel like I have to ask now.”

There was no need for him to clarify what he meant. “Matt?” she guessed.

He nodded. She shifted in her seat. “What about him?”

“Well… are you two not together?”

He sounded almost hopeful. She hesitated to respond.

“That was the rumor backstage,” he added.

She rolled her eyes. “Of course it was. But I guess, yeah, at one point it was moving in that direction. But… I actually told him last night that I think we rushed into things.”

“Oh,” Cash said. It was obvious that he expected her to continue, but her confusion over Matt was the last thing Callie wanted to get into right now. So, she deflected.

“There’s something I need to ask you, too.”

Cash arched his eyebrows as he raised his glass to his lips. “That doesn’t sound good,” he joked.

But Callie wasn’t joking. “Why’d you do what you did to Adam?”

He paused to cock his head at her. “What do you mean?”

She shot him a flat look as he took a sip of his drink. “I mean when you stabbed him in the back, Cash.”

Cash made a noise as he swallowed down the tequila. “Damn, not pulling any punches, huh?”

“You didn’t with Adam.”

He looked back at her in surprise. She didn’t waiver. He breathed out again.

“Alright, look,” he started. “I don’t have anything against Adam. I’ve known him a long time. But he and Kenny had what we wanted, and we did what we had to do to get it.”

She rolled her eyes again. That was such a canned response.

“What?”

“You did not have to do what you did,” she returned. “You didn’t have to manipulate him the way you did.”

His eyebrows arched. “Manipulate him? Callie, all we did was point out that Kenny and the Bucks don’t give two shits about him. He did the rest himself.”

“What?”

“I swear.”

“So you didn’t tell him to sabotage Matt and Nick in the gauntlet match?”

“No! He did that because he was upset about you and Matt!”

Callie’s brow puckered in confusion. “What?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “He told us at the hotel bar that night that he found out right before the gauntlet match that you were staying with Matt in California, so he retaliated by sabotaging their title shot. Dax and I didn’t have anything to do with that, I promise you.”

The room grew silent as his words sunk in, stunning her. That was exactly what Alex had surmised when Matt had confronted her immediately after the gauntlet match. But Callie hadn’t wanted to believe it, and after FTR had turned on Adam she’d assumed that they’d been the ones to put the idea in his head.

But if Cash was telling her that they hadn’t, then it meant she really was to blame.

“Hey,” Cash softly beckoned. She looked back up at him. His eyes were earnest. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t mean to make it sound like it was. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Callie stared down into her drink, tapping her fingernails on the glass. She appreciated the sentiment, but she didn’t agree. Not really. “Well, technically I walked out him, so…”

She trailed off and took a long drink. She felt like such a bitch. I shouldn’t be here.

“And?” Cash returned, drawing her out of her thoughts. “I’m sure you had good reason to.”

Callie didn’t answer right away, nearly draining her drink. Once she’d had enough, she looked down at Pawla and scratched her head again. “Let’s not talk about it anymore,” she said.

“Done,” he said, and she sent him a tight, grateful smile. “So what do you wanna do? Watch a movie?”

She nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. I just have one request.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Anything but Mean Girls.”

* * * * * * * * * *

When Matt arrived at Daily’s Place on Wednesday, he had half a mind to go to Tony and tell him to cancel the mixed tag match. He had no desire to wrestle a match with Callie anymore. To be frank, he didn’t want much of anything to do with her at the moment.

He knew she’d been in Orlando with Cash yesterday. He’d seen her Instagram photo at the go-kart track and hadn’t thought much of it. But not long after, Kenny had texted him.

Hey, did you know Callie is in Orlando with Cash right now?

It had caught him completely off-guard. No? he’d responded. Who told you that?

He’d been more on-edge than he cared to admit while he’d awaited Kenny’s reply. Alex. I guess they posted photos from the same place on Instagram or something.

A quick search for Cash’s Instagram profile—Matt didn’t follow that asshole—had confirmed the claim to be true. It wasn’t a photo, but a Boomerang video on his story that gave it away. It was unmistakably the same indoor go-kart track from Callie’s picture.

I just thought you should know, Kenny had followed up. Matt hadn’t responded. He’d tried to put it out of his mind ever since, but he couldn’t. He kept going back to what Callie had said to him the last time he’d seen her.

This all happened way too fast.

He didn’t disagree; they had moved fast. But what confused him was that Callie had been the one to set the pace, not him. He’d thought she’d wanted everything that had happened between them.

But the way she was acting now made him feel like nothing more than a regret.

“Matt.”

“Hm.” He looked up from his phone at Brandon. He, Nick, and Kenny all stared expectantly at him from across the EVP room.

“Do you want me to film the mixed tag match for BTE?” Brandon asked. His tone that conveyed he was repeating himself. Matt obviously hadn’t heard him the first time.

“Oh, no. Sorry,” he replied, and he looked back down at his phone. He saw the three of them exchange a wary glance out of his peripheral vision. Thankfully, they just left it alone.

“Alright, I’m starving,” Nick announced as he stood from his seat. “You guys coming?”

“Yeah,” Brandon agreed.

“No,” Kenny wearily returned. “I got that interview with JR.”

There was a pause. And then, “Matt?”

He looked up again, this time at his brother. He shook his head. “No. I’m not hungry.”

Nick let out a breath. “Alright,” he said, and he and Brandon went out the door, leaving Matt and Kenny alone. The silence in the room was deafening. But it didn’t last long.

“Have you talked to Callie at all?” Kenny asked. “About the match,” he quickly clarified.

Matt shook his head again. “No. I haven’t talked to her period. Not since Monday.”

There was another beat of uncomfortable silence. Again, Kenny was the one to break it. “Look, about yesterday. I wasn’t trying to—”

“Don’t,” Matt abruptly cut him off. He knew exactly what he was going to say, and he didn’t want to hear it. “I’m glad you told me. Let’s just leave it at that.”

He raised his palms in surrender. “Fine,” he said, and Matt hoped that really was the end of it.

But then Kenny added, “But I think you owe Alex an apology.”

“What?” Matt cut his eyes at him in disbelief. “For what?”

“Oh, come on, you know exactly for what. For the whole reason the mixed tag match is happening in the first place.”

That confused him even more. “The mixed tag match is happening because Trent can’t mind his fucking business.”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Oh, okay,” he sarcastically returned.

“What?”

“You called Alex a slut, Matt!” Kenny burst. “That’s what led to the mixed tag match! You accused her of putting Hangman up to sabotaging your title shot and you called her a slut for being involved with both me and Cash. But where was Callie yesterday? In Orlando with Cash, even though she’s apparently with you. So yeah, I think you owe Alex an apology.”

Matt sat back, physically stung by Kenny’s words. They hurt because there was more than just a grain of truth in them. But, at the moment, he was too stubborn to hear it. “Oh, so Callie’s the slut now? Is that what you’re saying?”

Kenny expelled an exasperated breath. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“It sure fucking sounds like it is.”

“I’m saying she’s making you look like a fucking idiot.”

They were thrown into silence again, their arguing replaced with quiet, palpable hostility as they sat opposed on either end of the room. Matt’s eyes turned dark. He didn’t need this. Not now. Not from his best friend.

“Fuck you, Kenny,” he spat. He stood and stalked toward the door, and as he gripped the handle he turned back, a cutting remark on the tip of his tongue. But in a moment of clarity, he decided it was better left unsaid. The shoe was on the other foot now. So he just went out the door, suddenly glad that he did have a match. He needed to hit something.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Are you guys going out for Jim’s match?”

Alex glanced across the locker room at Trent, looking for him to answer Chuck’s question. He met her gaze before responding.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “We’ll probably stay back here and focus on our match.”

Chuck nodded. “Yeah. I wish it wasn’t mixed tag rules. I’d like to see Alex hand Matt his ass.”

“Oh, she doesn’t even need to touch him to do that,” Trent returned. “Didn’t he train Callie?”

Alex knew he was asking her, but she didn’t look up as she rummaged through her suitcase. “I think so.”

Trent smirked. “So then kicking Callie’s ass will be kicking Matt’s by proxy,” he said. Chuck blinked at him.

“Wow, you actually used that correctly.”

He sucked his teeth. “Fuck off. I know big words.”

“‘Proxy’ is a five-letter word.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Spell it.”

“Are you serious?”

Alex smirked to herself and let them continue to argue while she grabbed the top to her gear and a pair of joggers and went into the bathroom to change. Truth be told, she didn’t want to talk or even think about the match against Callie and Matt. It was a complete one-eighty from a week ago—she’d been aching to kick Matt’s ass then. But now, she just wished the entire situation would go away.

She finished changing and returned to the main area of the locker room. Chuck was still challenging Trent to spell different words. “I’m going to hair and makeup,” she announced over them.

“What gear are you wearing?” Trent asked.

She turned to face him as she pulled on her zip-up hoodie. Her top was a sparkly dark silver-purple with black trim. “This gear. Why?”

“Because we should try to match. I knew I should have brought the gear from Fyter Fest…” he trailed off as he dug through his things and pulled out his dark gray tights with the blue and pink designs. “Do these work?”

Alex gave him a soft smile. “Yeah, those work. I’ll ask Stella to do a blue and pink eye look,” she said, and she went out the door.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get ten steps before she ran into Adam.

He slowed to a stop when he saw her. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she returned, and her brow puckered with concern as she looked him over. He had his ubiquitous glass of whiskey in hand, but he at least looked better than he had when she’d seen him at the hotel on Sunday. “Going somewhere?”

He looked confused at that. “No… why?”

She awkwardly fidgeted with the sleeve of her hoodie. “Well, you just look dressed for TV and I didn’t see you on the card tonight. I wasn’t even sure you were here.”

Adam hadn’t said a single word to her since she’d texted him to ask if he was going to the Labor Day party. But she hadn’t said a single word to him since then, either. Because the more she’d thought about it, the more she’d realized how right Kenny was. It was exhausting putting so much effort into a friendship where she wasn’t getting the same effort in return.

“Oh,” Adam regretfully said as he looked down at his pale blue button-up. “Yeah, I just had an interview with Schiavone.”

“Oh,” Alex repeated. “About—”

“Where I go from here,” he interjected. “I said I was still open to tagging with Kenny if he was.”

He laughed wryly to himself and took a sip of his drink. Alex frowned and looked away. Kenny was not open to tagging with him again; she knew that for a fact. But judging by the look on Adam’s face, deep down he knew that, too.

“Where are you headed?”

She looked back up at him. “Oh, hair and makeup. For the match tonight.”

Realization dawned in his eyes. And then, sadness and hurt. “Oh, right. You have the mixed tag against Matt and Callie.”

“Yeah.” Alex fidgeted and glanced away again. She couldn’t bear the look on his face. But then she wondered: did he know that Callie had been in Orlando with Cash yesterday? Should she tell him?

No, she quickly decided. It’s not your place or responsibility.

“Well, I should get over there,” she said, gesturing in the direction of hair and makeup.

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded as she started walking. “Good luck tonight.”

“Thanks,” she said, and she turned and hurried off as quickly as she could.

* * * * * * * * * *

In the years since she’d started wrestling, Callie had never felt as much of an outcast as she did now. As soon as she’d arrived at the arena with Cash, she’d realized she had nowhere to go. The EVP room was out of the question, and she didn’t want to go back to sharing a dressing room with Britt—she was the one who’d blabbed her business all over Daily’s Place to begin with. Cash had offered for her to share with him and Dax, but she’d turned him down; she could only imagine the rumors that would start if people noticed her sharing a locker room with FTR. No, she needed to keep a low-profile, and so she’d found an empty room away from everyone else. Now, she sat in one of the lounges watching the show as she awaited her match, alone.

Orange Cassidy had just beaten Angelico with the Orange Punch. Callie had expected Best Friends and Alex to be at ringside for the match, but they weren’t. She looked away from the TV and down at her phone as Bryce Remsburg raised Orange’s arm in victory, but a commotion a moment later redrew her attention. Santana and Ortiz had attacked Orange from behind. The assault didn’t last long, however, as Chuck and Trent ran out and chased them off like a pair of guard dogs. Callie couldn’t help but roll her eyes as Trent angrily paced the ring, shirtless in his skinny jeans. She sincerely hoped Matt would get a quick pin on him in their match.

Chuck grabbed a mike to speak, but Callie’s phone buzzed in her hands and she looked down at the screen. It was a text from Cash.

Are you free? I need a favor.

Her pulse picked up a bit as she unlocked her phone to respond. Yeah… what’s up? she typed back and hit “send.” She watched as the typing bubble appeared and, soon after, his answer.

Don’t laugh. I can’t decide on a shirt.

Despite his request, Callie couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. But she couldn’t blame him too much; FTR was having an in-ring celebration in honor of their championship victory at All Out that night. He probably wanted to look his best.

Usual room? she asked as she stood to leave.

Usual room, he replied, and she headed off in the direction of FTR’s dressing room.

The door was slightly open when she arrived, and she knocked to announce herself before she let herself in. Cash stood alone in the middle of the room in a pair of dark navy slacks and socks, shirtless. Callie’s mouth went suddenly dry as he looked over at her.

“Okay, I can’t decide between these two.” He motioned to a pair of dress shirts hung up in the cubby behind him—one white with tiny blue dots, the other with a subtle blue and white checkered pattern. She walked over and pulled them both out of the cubby so that she could hold them up next to him. He smirked at her as she studied them. She did her best to ignore it.

“This one,” she decided, handing him the checkered shirt. But she frowned as she returned the white shirt to its place. “Are those the only dress shoes you have?” she asked, nodding at the pair of black square-toed loafers on the floor.

“Yeah…” Cash slowly returned. “Why? Is something wrong with them?”

It took every fiber of Callie’s being not to blurt out with, “Yes, they’re hideous.” Instead, she said, “Just brown would look better with navy, is all.”

“Oh,” he realized. “I guess I should have asked your advice before we left this morning.”

She smirked. “Is that all you needed?”

“Yeah, thanks,” he answered as he pulled on the shirt. Callie watched as he fastened the buttons, and she realized she was staring. She fidgeted and looked awkwardly away, but Cash didn’t seem to notice. “Are you ready for your match?”

She drew in a deep breath. “Physically, yes. Mentally… not at all.”

He snorted. “Make Matt do all the work. He’s the one who dragged you into this.”

Callie anxiously bit her lip. He wasn’t wrong; of the four of them in the mixed tag, she was the only one who hadn’t been present when the match was made. But even so, she couldn’t do that to Matt. “No, I don’t want to do that. And besides, Matt didn’t ask for the match, either—Trent did. All because he didn’t like Matt mouthing off about Alex.”

Cash rolled his eyes as he tucked his shirt into his pants. “That doesn’t surprise me. I think he has a thing for her.”

She scoffed. “You think he does? Please, it’s obvious he does,” she said. And then she muttered, “It seems like everyone has a thing for her.”

“Not me,” Cash abruptly announced. “I’ve moved on.”

Callie looked up at him, but he turned away to grab his suit jacket. She wondered if he had more to say—it felt like he had more to say—but before she could ask the door to the locker room opened and Dax walked in. He halted when he saw her.

“Oh, hey, Callie. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

He glanced between her and Cash. They both quickly shook their heads. “No, I just asked her to come help me pick out a shirt,” Cash said.

“Ah,” Dax nodded. Callie didn’t miss the little smirk on his face. It was her cue to go.

“Well, I’ll go so you can get dressed,” she said to Dax as she started to leave.

“Good luck if I don’t see you before your match,” Cash returned, and she gave him a tight smile and went out the door.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex’s hands were clammy as she stood at Gorilla with Trent. The mixed tag match was next. Unfortunately, it was right after FTR’s joke of a tag team championship celebration. She did her best to tune out Dax’s egotistical blathering as she rolled her neck and loosened up. She needed to focus. A match was a match, and even though she wasn’t looking forward to this one, she still wanted to do her best.

“You ready for this?” Trent asked.

She looked up at him and nodded. “Yeah. Are you?” she meaningfully returned. She still couldn’t believe that he and Chuck had challenged Santana and Ortiz to a parking lot brawl next week. On top of worrying that they’d murder each other, she was concerned that Trent’s focus was no longer on their match.

“Yes,” he assured her. “Don’t worry about me.”

Alex smirked. “Man, have I got bad news for you next week.”

He gave her a crooked smile; but then his eye was drawn to a spot just past her shoulder. She turned to look. Matt and Callie had arrived.

Trent scoffed. “They don’t match at all. Losers.”

Normally, Alex would have laughed. But it was obvious even in the dim lighting of Gorilla that Matt and Callie’s gear wasn’t the only thing off about them. Callie in particular seemed unsure of herself. Her eyes met Alex’s. She turned away without a second glance.

Back in the ring, the “celebration” came to a screeching halt when Jurassic Express dumped a cooler full of beer cans over Cash, Dax, and Tully’s heads. Thankfully, they returned backstage a different way than through the entrance tunnels.

Alex drew in a breath and shook out her arms and legs as the show went to commercial. But it seemed like no time had passed at all when she heard the distinctive beat of the Best Friends theme song sound throughout the arena.

“Let’s do this,” Trent said as he held out his fist to her. She bumped it confidently with her own, and they walked into the tunnel together.

* * * * * * * * * *

A boulder settled in the pit of Callie’s stomach as she watched Alex and Trent disappear down the entrance tunnel. She didn’t know why she’d expected Alex to be just as nervous as her. On the contrary, she’d looked laser-focused; her and Trent both had. It was glaringly obvious that they were ten times more prepared for this match than she and Matt were. The two of them hadn’t even walked to Gorilla together—they’d just happened to get there at the same time.

“I’ll start the match,” Matt said. “I’ll try to keep your ring time to a minimum.”

Callie looked at him in hurt and confusion. “Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s obvious you don’t want to do this,” he breathed. “So I’ll just make quick work of Trent and get it over with, alright?”

“SUPERKICK PARTAYYYYYY!”

The opening of the Young Bucks theme interrupted before Callie could say anything. Matt didn’t so much as glance at her before he walked into the tunnel, and she had no choice but to follow him out.

The crowd offered a mixture of boos and cheers as they walked out onto the stage, but Callie couldn’t hear them over the music. She stood awkwardly next to Matt and waited for him to do his signature pose, but he never did. He just glared into the ring at Trent, who glared right back.

BOOM!

The cannons on the side of the stage shot fake $100 bills high into the air, making Callie flinch. She looked back into the ring as the paper money floated down around them. Alex rolled her eyes in annoyance and turned to say something to Trent.

She stood stiffly at the top of the stage until Matt moved, and they made their way down the entrance ramp. Trent started jaw-jacking, but Callie tuned him out as she took her place on the ring apron. Matt, however, took the bait; Aubrey had to push him back as they yelled at each other. Eventually, Trent scoffed and turned back to Alex.

“You wanna start?” Callie heard him ask.

But Alex didn’t even get the chance to open her mouth before Matt yelled, “No, we’re starting the match!”

Alex and Trent exchanged a look, but she stepped through the ropes and out onto the apron next to the turnbuckle. Matt removed his leather jacket and tossed it to the floor. Aubrey called for the bell, and the match started.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex didn’t know if Matt was ignoring Callie, if Trent just wanted to beat the shit out of Matt, or if it was some combination of both. But whatever the case, the match had been going on for nearly ten minutes now, and neither of them had even tried to tag in her or Callie. It was aggravating, but at least it worked in her team’s favor. The match had effectively become a singles contest, and Trent had far more experience wrestling on his own than Matt did. That, and his cardio was better. If it continued like this, it would only be a matter of time before they won.

Matt tried to whip Trent toward the ropes, but he reversed it and pulled him into a side headlock. He pivoted toward a corner and charged, running up the turnbuckle to hit a float-over DDT. He went for the pin—but Matt kicked out at two. Afterward, both men remained still on the mat, taking what chance they could to catch their breath. Alex eagerly stepped up onto the bottom rope and banged on the turnbuckle. She wanted in.

“Trent! Tag me in!”

She leaned into the ring, reaching as far as she could, and he looked over at her. But just as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, Matt hit him with a clubbing blow to the back. He grabbed him by the hair and jerked him into a chinlock. It wasn’t a move that Matt typically did. Alex knew it meant he was getting tired.

The crowd started clapping in rhythm for Trent, and Alex stomped her boot on the ring apron in time. Trent wrenched at Matt’s fingers, prying them away from his face. In response, Matt pulled him to his feet and swiftly maneuvered to hit a float-over DDT of his own. Alex bit down on her jaw as she watched him hook his leg. Trent got his shoulder up at two.

Alex stepped back up onto the ropes. She was tired of this. “Why don’t you tag in your partner, huh, Matt?” she taunted. “Worried she can’t beat me?”

Matt glared daggers at her as he climbed to his feet. “I don’t want to subject everyone to having to watch you wrestle,” he spat.

But Alex’s wit was just as quick. “Oh really? You look awfully lost without your little brother out here doing all the work.”

That needled him. She knew it would. But what she didn’t expect was his response.

“Please, you wouldn’t even have a contract if you weren’t on your knees for Kenny every night.”

For a second, Alex was stunned into silence. But then a white-hot rage bubbled up inside her. She ducked through the ropes and charged toward him.

“What’d you say to me?”

“You heard me.”

“Why don’t you say it again.”

“Get out of the ring, Alex!” Aubrey ordered.

“Matt!”

At Callie’s warning cry, Matt instinctively whirled around and dodged—and what happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion.

Trent flew toward Alex like a bullet. He crashed into her and knocked the wind from her lungs, sending her violently back into the turnbuckle. She felt a pop in her right shoulder, and then nothing but searing hot pain.

* * * * * * * * * *

When Trent realized what he’d done, he felt sick.

He hadn’t known Alex was in the ring. That DDT had left him dazed, and he’d been oblivious to his surroundings until he’d spotted Matt with his back turned to him. So he went for a spear. But Matt dodged at the last second. Trent had absolutely no chance to stop himself or correct course, and he rammed full speed into Alex.

He watched in stunned horror as she writhed against the turnbuckle. She clenched her right arm, her face screwed up in pain. She was hurt. He’d hurt her.

“Alex—”

Smack!

He was abruptly cut off by a superkick to the jaw. He crumpled to the mat. Matt dragged him by the ankle further into the ring and pinned him. The count sounded distant and faint.

One.

Two.

Three.

The bell rung. Trent felt Matt throw down his leg as the music started, ringing in his ears. He stared up into the lights, unblinking, while Matt’s arm was raised in victory. He’d hurt her. He’d hurt her and then lost the match.

“Alex,” he said again as he rolled over onto his hands and knees. She was still huddled against the turnbuckle, clutching her arm as Aubrey checked on her. He felt sick all over again.

“Alex.” He crawled over to her and put a hand on her knee. She looked up at him. Unshed tears shined in her eyes. It broke him. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “It was an accident—”

“Alex!”

Suddenly, Kenny was in the ring. He practically pushed Trent out of the way as he knelt in front of Alex. “What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“I think it’s dislocated,” she winced.

Trent looked at her right shoulder. It hung visibly lower than her left. His heart dropped into his stomach.

“Let’s get you to Doc,” he said as he tried to move toward her again.

But Kenny blocked him. “I got it,” he bit. Trent didn’t have it in him to argue.

He watched as Kenny helped her to her feet and ushered her to the ropes; he held them open for her so she could gingerly duck through. As she stepped to the other side, Alex looked back. For a brief second their eyes met. But then Kenny put his arm around her, and she turned away and disappeared into the back.

* * * * * * * * * *

Callie couldn’t stay out there a second longer. She was horrified by what she’d witnessed. The way Matt had taken advantage of Trent’s awful mistake, how he hadn’t hesitated to kick him in the jaw—there’d been a viciousness in his eyes that she’d never seen before. And she didn’t want any part of it.

She stormed off before Aubrey could even raise his arm in victory, marching quickly up the ramp. Kenny nearly bowled her over on his way down to the ring, and she turned to watch as he ran to Alex’s aid. But then she saw Matt coming after her, and she turned back around and hurried through the entrance tunnel.

“Callie!”

She didn’t stop or even glance his way. She just kept walking.

“Callie! What the fuck?”

That got her stop and face him. “Me what the fuck? You what the fuck, Matt? What the fuck was that out there?”

If looks could kill, she was certain she would have been dead on the spot. “Are you serious?” he spat. “I won the match and you just ran off!”

Her eyes darkened. “Well, I didn’t want to be a part of it anyway, right?”

Matt bit down on his jaw. There was nothing he could say to that. She gave him one last glare and turned her back on him again, praying that was the end of it. She just wanted to leave. Alone.

“I want your shit out of my house by the weekend.”

Callie halted. His words were like a knife in the back. They hurt. And suddenly, she wanted him to hurt, too.

She turned around again, her head held high. “That’s fine, because I don’t want to move back to California anymore.”

She held his gaze in defiance. But Matt just laughed, cruel and low. “Let me guess, Orlando with Cash?”

She faltered. He knew about yesterday. But she steeled herself again. “No. I want to move to Orlando for me.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Okay.”

“That’s the truth!”

“Was all this just a rebound to you?”

If his previous words had been a knife to the back, those were a blow to the gut. Tears sprung to the back of Callie’s eyes. Her voice came out strained. Apologetic. “No. I care about you, Matt. So much that it scares me.”

He laughed again and looked away. “Coulda fooled me.”

She took a step toward him. “Matt—”

“Have fun in Orlando,” he cut her off, and that time it was him who stormed off and left her behind. Alone.

#aew fanfiction #kenny omega fanfiction #cash wheeler fanfiction #matt jackson fanfiction #trent beretta fanfiction #the elite fanfiction #young bucks fanfiction #best friends fanfiction #adam page fanfiction #hangman page fanfiction #hangman adam page fanfiction #ftr fanfiction

56 notes · View notes