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#why is this the only part of the film where he takes his clothes off???
benoits-neckerchieves · 4 months
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Oh yeahh let’s bring these pics back
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Daniel Craig filming the ‘Spectre’ (2015) title sequence
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murdrdocs · 11 months
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INTERVIEW 014
with. mike schmidt
includes. visual filming + auditory recording, GN!reader (mentions of lingerie but no explicit anatomy), begging, facials, oral (f and m receiving)
→ kinktober masterlist
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mike schmidt has a thing for filming.
he’s obsessed with you, sometimes spending time in silence admiring you because he can’t really believe that you’re his. he’s a bit of a loser (affectionate) and an outcast (self afflicted), so he thinks you’re out of his lead. which is why he likes to document your time together as much as he can.
he has a couple of old cameras, just a little under a decade older. they work perfectly fine though, and he always has to take a picture of you with his polaroid or film you for just a few seconds whenever you’re together.
most of the documented content is innocent. you dancing around the kitchen while you help prepare dinner for the three of you (abby is singing in the back of that one). you standing in front of the mirror fixing the final touches on your dallas cowboy cheerleader costume with an infectious grin on your face. you mumbling in your sleep while your head rests on mikes chest.
but a solid amount of the content is mature, hidden away on discs and polaroids and cassettes in a closed box tucked away in a messy corner of his closet.
this content is audio recordings of you begging for mike, your voice high and breathy. he remembers that night, your hands in his hair that was slightly too long at that point. he was between your legs, his mouth just inches away from where you were trying to get him. it felt good for him to have the upper hand in that moment, a cocky smile on his face as he started to bask in the newfound power. it was one of the first times he realized how much he affected you, and he instantly wanted to record it. what the two of you ended up producing was fifteen minutes of you pleading and moaning and borderline sobbing as mike got you off with his tongue.
there’s a few discs, labeled with the date in either of your handwriting (mikes borderline scrawl and your neater script), housing content of mike fucking you slow, thrusts long and deep. he’s usually the one holding the camera, lenses at you as you’re on your knees with pretty doe eyes or above him bouncing and grinding with your eyes pinched closed. there’s some times, though, when you take the camera from him, met with nearly no resistance because these are the hours where he’s limp to your delicious torture. when he’s so wound up that just the first few licks from you has his grip loosening around the object, allowing you turn the lens on him, capturing his rosy cheeks and curly hair sticking to his forehead and his brown eyes watching your every move.
then there’s the polaroids, the only evidence that frequently makes voyages outside of the old shoe box whenever you’re apart. he has pictures of you with your hands over your face, but a smile clear beneath your palms. these were the ones taken first, before you’d gotten into the videos and cassettes. you were shy then, only giving the camera glimpses of your new lingerie set, which was usually the incentive for mike pulling the camera out in the first place. there’s pictures from when you’d gotten more confident, there’s photos of you post-sex, a loopy lopsided smile on your face, arms thrown over the parts that mattered but you were bare otherwise.
then there’s the ones that are completely debauched. the ones he hesitates to take out in fear that he’ll leave them lying around somewhere. his favorite of the small bunch is of you sitting on his bed, legs spread and bent at the knee, palms pressed into the mattress behind you. your pose itself is almost innocent, a grin on your face as you stare at the camera. you’re clothed too, for the most part, wearing underwear that covers what needs to be covered. but it’s the white spurts that paint your skin that makes this particular picture so raunchy. along your chest, in the center of your underwear, and — his favorite spot — all over your pretty little face, breaching into the baby hairs around your face.
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augustinewrites · 1 year
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“i’ve got the ice cream!” gojo announces as he steps into the apartment.
despite the urgency conveyed over his call with you, not a soul appears to greet him like the hero that he is. instead, he’s greeted by the perked ears and alert looks of four shikigami wolves lounging under the sun rays stretched across the kitchen floor.
he carefully steps over them to grab four spoons. “where are your summoners?”
your dogs tilt their heads, pretending not to understand him. megumi’s puppies don’t even bother with pretending, turning around and setting their fluffy bottoms down with a huff.
“useless animals,” he scoffs, venturing into the apartment to look for everyone. 
he eventually finds the three of you in the bedroom, you and tsumiki cuddling in bed watching some chick-flick while megumi reads in the armchair. 
“finally,” you grin when you see him, pausing the film to take the bag and spoons from his hands. “thank you.”
“what’s going on here?” he asks as you distribute ice cream pints and spoons. 
“tsumiki didn’t say “i love you” back to her boyfriend,” megumi quips, his sister throwing a pillow and a glare in his direction. 
gojo looks at you, brows furrowed, but you only send him a pleading look.
“well,” he starts, sitting on the edge of the bed. “love is a big emotion, kid. it can take a long time to develop, or sometimes you just know like that,” he says, snapping his fingers. 
“how long did it take you two to say it?” 
this time when he looks at you, you look away. you hate how much he loves this story. 
he can’t help the giddy feeling fluttering in his chest. 
“you tell her,” you mutter.
“why? you were the one who said it first. it also led to our first kiss remember?”
“and as i recall, you didn’t say you loved me back right away.” 
ah, you never fail to remind him. 
“i didn’t get the chance. you just started kissing me and tearing my clothes off. then you immediately dragged me into bed and had your way with me,” he recalls, sighing dreamily as megumi covers his ears.
“i did not kiss you first,” you argue, like you always do. “i don’t kiss on first dates!”
“you did that night.”
“no, i said that i loved you, and then you kissed me.” 
he looks at you for a moment. really looks at you. he supposes that first kiss had been over nearly ten years ago, he couldn’t really fault you for forgetting. he didn’t even remember what he’d had for breakfast this morning. 
“alright, you win,” he relents, shuffling up the bed to sit against the headboard, pulling you into his chest and kissing your temple. 
_____
his first date with you ends up being five years after he meets you. 
by then, he’d already known he loved you. hell, some deep, subconscious part of him had known since he was seventeen years old.
so, two years after he’d made a deal with your father, he asked you on a date. 
the date goes well. a nice dinner at a nice restaurant in roppongi, followed by a movie in the apartment you’d eventually move into. he’d successfully put his arm around you and leaned in to tell jokes that’d made you laugh.  
being with you has always been easy, even back then. there’s no awkwardness on your first date, just the blossoming feeling of something exciting and new growing between you.
(because you were in love with him too.)
“i should head home,” you sigh around 11pm, moving to lift your head from where it’s been laying against his shoulder. “i have lesson plans to prep for next week.”
“don’t go,” he’s quick to insist. “stay. i have two spare rooms. i already have one set up for you.”
you look at him for a moment, like you’re seeing him for the first time. “you do?”
“i wasn’t going to make you go home by yourself in the middle of the night,” he shrugs, averting his gaze and feeling shy all of a sudden. 
“i don’t have any clothes—”
“just wear something of mine.”
that was mistake number one, because when you’d come out of the bathroom wearing one of his shirts, he’s still pretty sure he’d blacked out for a second.
mistake number two was staying up late, chatting. this wasn’t uncommon for the two of you, but for some reason that night had felt…intimate. you’d had your legs in his lap, illuminated by the faint glow of the television as you chatted. 
mistake number three was helping you walk to the spare room, an arm looped around your sleepy figure as you leaned into him.
he still remembers the way his heart had been thumping loudly in his chest as you gazed up at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “goodnight,” you murmured. “i love you.”
he’d stood there, blinking uselessly as he watched realization pass over your face. “satoru…”
he says your name back, suddenly terrified. he remembers how the fear seized his heart, because all at once, you’d become someone he could lose. he has a history of people leaving. whether it was by choice or not, it always hurt. he wants you so badly, but he also knows that losing you would break him. 
it must be written all over his face, these unsaid fears and hesitations that were plaguing his mind. that was when you’d stepped forward and gently cupped the sides of his face, pulling him in for a kiss. 
______
“sometimes you just know when you love someone,” you tell tsumiki, brushing some stray hairs from her face. “i don’t really know how to explain it.”
“it’s just a feeling,” gojo agrees, still looking at you. “a pretty great one, that leads to even greater things of you give it a chance.”
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a-reader-and-a-writer · 2 months
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Sweeter Than Revenge Part 1
Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: When you try to surprise your brother with a visit in the hopes of mending your strained relationship, it does not go as planned. Rudely dismissed by Scott, you decide to get a little revenge. And who better to do it with than the head Tornado Wrangler himself... Word Count: 3509 TW: Family Conflict, Brief Mention of Reader's Clothes/Breasts, Unsucessful Flirting, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages
Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)
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Grabbing your backpack off the seat beside you, you stood and joined the crowd of passengers making their way to the front of the bus. You stopped to let an elderly couple join the line in front of you and used the momentary pause to glance out the window at your destination. A small diner in need of a fresh coat of paint and a good window washing sat off to the left while several rows of gas pumps were lined up on the right. Trucks, vans, campers, and SUVs filled almost every parking spot and spilled into the grassy field around the lot. Some vehicles were ancient, rusted machines that barely looked driveable while others were so fresh and high-tech they could have just been driven off a lot. Those were the vehicles you were looking for.
Stepping off the bus, you headed towards the group of four shiny new vehicles on the other end of the parking lot. On the way, your head was on a constant swivel as you took in everything around you: a middle-aged couple arguing loudly about who forgot to tie down the lawn chairs the last time they stopped, a somewhat familiar-looking man in a cowboy hat unloading a piece of equipment from his huge red truck while another long-haired man filmed him, a woman with dreadlocks fiddling with a remote control only for a large drone to drop out of the sky a moment later and land at her feet, a few children racing towards the diner with their exasperated mother trailing behind yelling at them to watch where they were going. 
It was utter chaos and you loved it already. 
As you approached the vehicles, you saw the Storm PAR logos printed on the sides and breathed a sigh of relief that after this sixth bus stop, you had finally tracked them down. You still didn’t see who you were looking for, so you walked up to a man with dark curly hair wearing a white button-down Storm PAR shirt who was currently crouched down examining a weird solar panel-looking piece of equipment set up next to one of the vans. As you cleared your throat, he looked up from the machine and blinked, as if he was shocked to see someone standing there despite the crowds of people around him. Glancing around, he asked, “Um…can I help you?”
You guess you shouldn’t be too surprised by his reaction. In your cut-off shorts, boots, and halter top, you looked like you should be hanging out one of the trucks you passed when you first got off the bus, not the polished, company polo shirt-wearing tech heads milling around the Storm PAR vehicles. And you didn’t even want to know what your hair and makeup looked like after four hours on that poorly air-conditioned packed bus. 
So, instead of taking offense at this guy’s slightly dismissive tone, you smiled as you adjusted the backpack on your shoulder. “Hi. I’m looking for Scott.”
The man glanced over his shoulder but made no move to stand up. “He’s here but he’s in the middle of some data calculations. Can I help you with something?”
“Not really. I had time off college and he mentioned you guys were having a really active season so I figured why not come out and see all this in action.” The man was still looking at you like he couldn’t understand why you were talking to him and you suddenly realized you hadn’t explained the most important detail. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I guess I should have mentioned, Scotty’s my older brother.”
Instantly, the man’s demeanor shifted and a huge toothy smile spread across his face. “Oh! You should have led with that. Nice to meet you.”
Rising to his feet, he stuck out his hand and you shook it, officially introducing yourself. When he said his name was Javi Rivera and it was your turn for things to click into place. “Javi! You’re Scotty’s business partner, right? He’s told me about you.”
Javi let your hand drop and his eyes shifted towards his equipment once more. “Really? Well, um, you know, I’ve, uh, heard great things about you too.”
You grinned, grabbing onto the straps of your backpack. “Scotty never even mentioned he had a sister, did he?” Javi gave a slight shrug, still not looking directly at you and you laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like him. Never wants to get personal, everything’s about business with him. To be honest, I don’t see or hear from him that much which is just another reason I figured I’d come surprise him when I had the chance. Plus, I read some research Scotty left lying around last time he came home and it was really interesting. I’m excited to be able to see what you guys do firsthand.” 
“Well, I’m sure Scotty will be glad to see you. Let me go grab him.”
Javi turned and disappeared into one of the vans. A moment later, he returned with your brother following closely behind. “Javi, I was in the middle of some important calculations. Why did I have to–” Scott stumbled to a stop as he saw you standing there.
Since he was a teenager, Scott had mastered the art of keeping his emotions hidden. He could be fuming mad, joyously happy, or heartbrokenly sad, and in each case keep the same perfect mask on his face. However, you knew his one tell. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep the emotion out of his eyes. And right now, you could practically see flames burning within them. 
For the first time, you wondered if coming to see him had been such a good idea. Shifting from one foot to the other, you tried to force a smile as you half-heartedly held out your arms. “Surprise.”
Scott remained rooted to the spot, his only movement the constant forceful chewing of his gum. Javi glanced back and forth between the two of you, the smile slowly draining from his face. Hesitantly, he explained, “She said she was your sister so I figured…”
A cultivated smile spread across Scott’s lips but it didn’t reach his eyes as they continued to burn into yours. “No, it’s all good. I’m just surprised to see her.” Without breaking eye contact, he held his tablet out to Javi who took it from him. “Give me a few minutes to talk to her and then I’ll get back to those numbers.”
Javi started to protest, assuring him there was no rush and he could take his time, but Scott had already closed the distance between you. Grabbing your arm tightly to the point of slight painfulness, he guided you past the rest of the Storm PAR vehicles and into the empty field. 
Once you were far enough away that you knew none of his co-workers could hear you, you wrenched your arm from his grasp, snapping, “Get off of me!”
“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled, his mask finally slipping as his nostrils flared and lips curled into a snarl.
“Well, hello to you too!” You examined your arm where he had grabbed you, massaging it gently. “Can’t a girl come visit her big brother?”
“Not when she wasn’t invited or even asked if she could come beforehand! What were you thinking? This isn’t one of your wild party vacations. This is my job!”
“I know that. I wasn’t expecting you to drop everything and take me sightseeing. I just thought I could hang around and watch you guys in action. I’ve read some of the research you left at Christmas and I was hoping maybe I could learn a little more about it.”
Scott shook his head, his hands on his hips. “This is our busiest time of the season. I don’t have time to babysit you.”
“What do you think I am? Eight? I don’t need you to babysit me. I told you, I’m interested in what you do and thought I could just hang around and see how it all works.” You shrugged, “Maybe you could even take me on a chase or two.”
“Hell no. I won’t have you getting scared and causing us to have to turn around in the middle of a storm run. Javi and I have worked too hard to get this company to where it is and I’m not going to let you ruin that because, on a whim, you thought it would be fun to see a storm.�� Scott scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “It’s so typical of you to still think that just because you want something or because Mom and Dad will pay for it, everyone else will bend over backward to accommodate you. Well, I don’t have to put up with your bullshit anymore.”
You took several deep breaths and tried to keep your anger in check. This was not at all how you thought this would go, but lashing out right now would only make things worse. So, in a calm, steady voice, you tried to shift approaches. “Scotty, we haven’t spent any real time together since you left for MIT. And back then…I’m not proud of the person I was and I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. But I was a kid who didn’t know any better! I’ve grown up since you left. And this trip isn’t just something I thought would be fun to do ‘on a whim’. I worked hard to save up the money to come here because I wanted to see you and spend time with you—however little time you may be able to work into your schedule. And I promise I won’t get scared or make you stop your chase. If I don’t like it, I’ll suck it up until it’s over then not ask to go again.” Taking a step forward, you gently placed your hand on his arm and gave him a timid smile. “Let me show you who I am now…how much I’ve changed. Please, Scotty.”
But Scott yanked his arm away and took a step back. “I don’t care where you go, but you need to stay away from me and Storm PAR. Now, I have work to do.” He took one last look at you, and, for just a moment, you thought maybe he felt bad for what he said and was reconsidering things. But then, he blew a small bubble with his gum and popped it loudly in your face. You jumped slightly, the sound sharp and startling, before glaring at him. He had been doing that since you were kids and he knew how much you absolutely despised it. Shooting you one last smug smirk, Scott turned and walked off towards the cluster of Storm PAR vehicles. 
You turned to look out into the open field, lip quivering, as you fought against the tears that were burning your eyes. Things between you and Scott had been pretty bad when he left for college, but you hadn’t realized he still really thought so poorly of you. The last few holidays or family events he had been forced to come to, things seemed to be getting a little better. You thought that maybe you had reached a turning point in your relationship. But now it was clear you had been very wrong.
Looking back at the diner and overflow of vehicles, you wondered what you should do now. You had no idea when the next bus came by or how to get a ticket home or if there was a motel nearby you could stay in for the night or how you would even get there if there was or what you would do in the morning or—
UGH! The longer you stared at the Storm PAR logo on the side of the van Scott had disappeared into, the less hurt you felt. Instead, the pain began to shift into outrage. How dare Scott treat you like this? You had spent a lot of money and wasted two weeks of your summer vacation to take this trip to see him. You knew it would involve listening to him drone on about numbers and graphs you could barely comprehend for most of the time, but you were willing to smile, nod, and seem interested to show you cared about what he did. But no! He didn’t even give you a chance to explain yourself or prove that you weren’t here to interfere with his work. He had just torn you down before turning his back on you and walking away. That asshole!
The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky and you realized standing here fuming about Scott wasn’t going to help your situation. You could do that once you found a bus schedule or a place to stay for the night. However, as you stormed back through the parking lot, something caught your eye. 
When you had come through the first time and passed the familiar-looking man and the long-haired guy with the camera, you had only seen their truck from behind. But now that you were looking at the front, you noticed the distinctive metal logo attached to the front of the truck’s grille: a tornado with horns jutting out the top of the vortex. And you realized why the man in the cowboy hat looked familiar. 
Scott might not talk to you very often, but during the instances that he had, you had heard plenty of complaints about Tyler Owens and his group of Tornado Wranglers. Everything they did was the complete opposite of how Storm PAR operated and it drove Scott crazy that while he was out there doing the “real work”, this group of amateur YouTube chasers were the ones getting all the attention and acclaim when all they were really doing was getting in Storm PAR’s way. 
And Scott seemed to have another level of hatred for Owens himself.    
Out of curiosity, you had looked up the Wranglers’ YouTube channel and found it pretty entertaining. While Scott viewed every aspect of his work with complete seriousness and professionalism, these guys tackled the same work like they were having the time of their lives. They were still informative, explaining to their viewers how tornadoes formed and the types of destruction they can cause, but they would then drive straight into the center of a funnel or take chat requests of crazy things to do in the storm. It honestly seemed like a great way to get people excited about learning about tornadoes while also keeping them entertained. And it seemed like their nearly 850,000 followers would agree. No wonder Scott hated them so much. 
Suddenly, you had an idea—the perfect little act of revenge.
Changing directions, you made your way over to Owens’s truck. You could see he was now alone, tinkering with the equipment attached to the bed of his truck. He had traded his white cowboy hat for a faded backward cap and had pushed his sleeves up above his elbows as he worked, his sun-bronzed skin on full display in the dying light.
Though you had only watched a handful of the Tornado Wranglers’ videos, you had a pretty good idea of the kind of man Tyler Owens was and how you could persuade him to help you. After all, these narcissistic, jacked-up truck-driving, overcompensating pretty boys were all the same. The kind who had been fawned and swooned over their entire adult lives just because they flashed a charming smile or a playful wink in the right direction. However, with just a little stroking of their ego or a bat of your eyes, they could become putty in your hands. All you had to do was introduce yourself.
Reaching the side of the truck, you tucked your hands into your back pockets so it thrust your chest forward and, biting your lip, called out coyly, “Hey there, cowboy.”
Owens glanced up, a curious smile curling across his lips as he saw you, his eyes traveling from your head to boot and back up. “Well, hello there.”
Giggling softly as you placed your hand on the side railing, you asked in a sing-songy voice, “You’re Tyler, right? The big...bad…tornado wrangler?” With each word, you walked your fingers across the railing, your eyes locked on his.
He leaned back, wiped his hands on his jeans, and said, “I might be. Depends on who’s asking.” He was still looking at you but his smile had slipped slightly and you realized you might not have grabbed his attention as well as you thought.
Placing both hands on the railing now, you pushed yourself up slightly, your chest pressed together, and you looked up at him from under your lashes. “What if I’m asking?”
Owens stared at you for a long moment, his eyes still examining you thoughtfully, though you were shocked to see they stayed locked on your face and didn’t dip down to your breast like you had expected. Then, finally, he said, “You seem like a nice girl, sweetheart, but I don't think I'm what you're looking for. Good luck though.” He gave you a kind, yet dismissive nod, and went back to whatever he had been working on.
Your jaw dropped, lips moving silently as you tried to figure out what just happened. This kind of thing always worked on guys like him in the past. Show a little skin, stroke their egos a little, and they would be wrapped around your finger in no time. But he hadn’t even given your act more than a passing glance. It was possible you weren’t his type or maybe he was in a committed relationship, but neither of those things had exactly deterred guys in the past. 
You turned around—properly dismissed—and were just about to walk away when another thought crossed your mind. What if…what if you had misjudged him? What if he wasn’t the kind of guy you assumed he was? From what you had seen in his videos, he was cocky and overconfident and a huge flirt, but what if that was all for the cameras? During your very brief interaction, he seemed polite and respectful even as you tried to throw yourself at him, something no other guy had ever done in that situation. 
Maybe you had gone about this all wrong. Maybe you needed a different approach. A more honest one…
You hurried around the other side of the truck so you were in front of him once more. Dropping all the over-the-top flirtatiousness from your voice, you said, “Okay, I’m sorry. I thought…it doesn’t matter what I thought, but the point is I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve had a really shitty day and approached this situation all wrong.”
Owens didn’t raise his head, but his eyes drifted back in your direction. Feeling like he was offering you a chance, you explained, “Listen, the deal is I came here to surprise my brother with a visit, and as soon as he saw me, he told me he doesn’t want me here and I should fuck off out of his way.”
That got his attention. Looking up, his brow furrowed, Owens asked, “Your brother said that to you?”
You rolled your eyes and hit the heel of your palm against the side of the truck. “Well, not in those exact words but the sentiment was there. The point is, he told me he didn’t care where I went as long as I left him and his team alone. So, I plan on respecting his wishes…and wondered if I could hang out with your team instead.”
“Well–” He leaned back, clearly not interested in your request, but you cut him off before he could turn you down.
“Please! It’ll just be for a day or two. I promise not to get in the way or mess with any of your work. I just know he has a problem with you guys and seeing me with you will drive him insane.” 
Putting down the wrench he was holding, Owens shook his head. “Back up…who are we talking about now? Who’s your brother?”
You realized you needed to get better at introducing people into a conversation before jumping right in. “Scott? He works for Storm PAR?” He hesitated so you sighed and turned towards the other group of storm chasers at the other end of the lot. With one hand on your hip, you pointed lazily with the other, “The surly tall one who never takes off his stupid baseball cap?”
Instantly, Owens straightened up and you knew you had piqued his interest. Chuckling, he asked, “Wait, so you’re telling me Mr. Clipboard and Chewing Gum is your brother?” You nodded. “And you want my help messing with him?”
“Yeah, that about sums it up. So, will you do it?”
The cowboy leaned over the side of the truck and gave you a wide grin. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve come to the right place.”
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Part 2 coming 8/19!
Tag list: @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, @blue-aconite, @hederasgarden, @writercole,
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yazmarina · 2 months
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meddle about
for hit play, a drabble event.
—"we only met each other just the other day, but you already got me feeling some type of way" (meddle about by chase atlantic)
ollie bearman (f2) x afab!reader
warnings/notes: smut, fingering, unprotected sex, clothed sex, semi-public sex, creampie, office romance-ish
a/n: ollie does seem like the type to meddle about with you...enjoy!
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"Oh, hey. It's you."
Goosebumps rise all over your skin as you realize whose voice you just heard. You swallow, trying to portray nonchalance as best as you can.
"Hey, Ollie."
The driver smiles, sidling up closer to you, hands gently resting on your waist as he wiggles past you in the cramped kitchenette. The Prema trailer is empty, save for you, painstakingly pouring cups of coffee to give out to everyone at the paddock tent. And, obviously, Ollie is here, too.
Ollie's hands leave a burning imprint on your skin as he moves away and settles on the couch in the corner. You try to ignore it, but you know Ollie's staring. He stares at you all the time, doesn't even attempt to hide it.
You're not even sure what it means. Or if it means anything at all.
You've only been employed with the team for a month, barely knowing anyone yet, save for your friend who referred you to this job. She made it sound enticing enough. You'd help her handle the comms for the whole team, film some social media content, attend press stuff. And at least you could do it together. And the company parties are fun. A good time all around.
She didn't warn you that part of the job was having one of the drivers follow you around like a lovesick puppy, his fluffy hair and big brown eyes melting the last of your resolve.
"What are you doing later tonight?" Ollie asks casually. You remain unmoving, refusing to look at him.
"Just going back to the hotel to rest," you respond plainly. "Got a lot of work to do for socials."
Ollie hums in acknowledgment. It's silent for a while and the urge to look back at him claws its way up within you. You beg yourself to not give Ollie the satisfaction, to not give yourself the satisfaction. God knows all your restraint goes out the window whenever Ollie's close.
With a sigh, you give in, looking over your shoulder at Ollie.
He's leaning back against the couch, arms spread on the backrest, his whole demeanor as relaxed as one can be.
"Need help with those?" Ollie asks, gesturing to the tray of coffee in front of you.
You wave him off. "Later."
You face him full-on, leaning against the counter. He looks back, eyebrows raised.
"Do you need something?" You ask, trying to add some bite to your tone. Not that you wanted to purposely offend Ollie, but you're not quite sure how else to go about this.
"No...?" Ollie begins, looking at you, puzzled.
"Then why do you–"
You stop cold. What are you even going to ask?
Why is he staring? What if he's not and you're just imagining all of it?
Why does he touch you out of nowhere? What if he's that way with everyone?
Why do you like it so much when he touches you?
...Well.
You huff, a hand smoothing through your hair. You practically march over to where he's seated, hesitating for a moment before sliding in beside him. He adjusts his posture, keeping his arm behind you on the couch. He smiles, almost smug in the look of satisfaction that washes over his face.
"Yes?" Ollie asks, tilting his head closer.
"This is bad. Illegal. Breaks about a dozen clauses in both of our contracts," you recite, hands wringing in your lap. Ollie watches you fidget, his hand resting behind you slowly reaching over to steady your movements.
His hand covers both of yours, big enough to wrap around your wrists if he wanted to.
"What are you talking about?" Ollie asks once more, the weight on his hand heavy in your lap.
"Tell me."
You gulp, having never heard Ollie's voice take on such a commanding tone. You turn to look at him straight in the eye. With a final prayer to whatever god is listening, you decide to just spit it out.
"You're staring. You stare all the time. You're touchy, too touchy for someone who I'm supposed to just be coworkers with. How about you tell me what it is you want?"
Ollie's expression falls and he withdraws his hand back. He stutters for a few seconds, unable to find the words.
"Did I do something wrong?" Ollie begins. "I thought–I mean, after Austria, at the club, after my win, you grabbed my ass–"
"Oh my god, Ollie, I was drunk!" Came your panicked reply. "And you were inches away from my face telling me something I had no intention of understanding because I wanted to make out with you right then and there if I'm being honest."
The two of you stare at each other, both stunned into silence.
A beat. A second. A breath.
"Come here," Ollie commands, hands already wrapping around your hips. You're happy to oblige as you clamber onto his lap, straddling his thick thighs on both sides.
You couldn't have been any more eager to get your lips on his, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kiss, rough and frenzied. Ollie groans against your mouth, pressing you down on his rapidly hardening cock. You can feel it through his jeans, thick and heavy.
"Hurry," you implore, hiking your work skirt up around your waist. Ollie reaches down and yanks your underwear to the side, fingers swiping through your arousal.
"All wet for me, love?" Ollie asks, peppering kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You whimper, his fingers expertly working at your clit.
"God, you're so pretty," he mutters, latching onto a spot just above your collar. You shiver, feeling him tease at your hole next.
Ollie plunges two fingers in, bottom lip caught in his teeth as he watches you immediately grind against his fingers, your wetness coating his hand.
You'd known that Ollie was somewhat adept with his hands, being a racing driver and all, but the way he's curling his fingers in you has you seeing stars. If you had the time to cum on his fingers alone, you would.
"Come on," Ollie urges, pulling his hand away, only just managing to stop yourself from whimpering at the loss of contact. You watch impatiently as he fumbles with his belt and zipper, anticipation thick in the air, his movements frantic and uncoordinated. He finally gets his bottoms open, pulling his underwear down enough to let his cock free.
He gives it a few cursory strokes, pulling you in for another searing kiss.
"Spit on it," Ollie says, voice pitching lower. You obey, letting a drop of saliva loose on his red-tipped length. He coats it all over, tapping you on the thigh.
You don't have to be told twice as you position yourself over him, quickly sinking down in one fell swoop. Both of you gasp, unfamiliar with each other's sensations. Ollie squeezes his eyes shut, mouth agape. You're panting, the stretch of his cock making your head spin.
You anchor yourself to him, bracing your thighs against the couch. You start out slow, trying to get a feel of just how big Ollie fits inside of you. He squeezes at your waist, watching as you ride him.
Picking up the pace, you start to bounce a little harder, the sound reverberating through the whole trailer. It dawns on you now that anyone can walk in and see you like this. The thought spurs you on to go even faster, ignoring the burn in your legs.
"Oh god, oh fuck," Ollie curses, eyes glued to the image of him disappearing inside of you. You reach down to rub at your clit, an action that has Ollie groaning.
"You're so hot," he praises, one hand reaching out to squeeze at your chest through your shirt. Your Prema shirt, the work uniform that reminded you both exactly what you are and where you are at this moment.
"Ollie," you mewl. "Ollie, I need you to cum. Cum inside me. Don't make a mess."
Ollie manages to laugh in disbelief but is quickly silenced when you clench around him, your own fingers speeding up against your sensitive nub.
You gasp, feeling the telltale signs of your release. Ollie practically pins you in place, fucking up into you instead. You're both making more noise than what's deemed safe in such a public place surrounded by activity, but neither of you care. The tip of his cock brushes that one spot deep inside you, again and again, harder each time.
Before you know it, your orgasm rips through you, your nails digging into Ollie's shoulders. He grunts as he's trapped between your squeezing walls, his cock twitching as he, too, reaches his release.
Your labored breaths are the only things that can be heard now, your figure slumped against his. Ollie wraps his arms around you, planting a tender kiss to your temple.
You hear a vague vibrating sound coming from somewhere in the vicinity and you frantically search around before spotting your phone on the floor. You immediately recognize the caller ID as your friend.
Wincing, you get off of Ollie, grabbing your phone.
"Yeah?"
"Where are you? And the coffee? Look, I'm coming by the trailer if you need help."
You give Ollie a panicked look. He understands immediately.
"Also," your friend continues. "Have you seen Ollie?"
437 notes · View notes
piastrinorris · 2 years
Text
I Want Your Video
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x f!Reader
Genre: smut
Tags: Stranger Things (series), 18+ (minors DNI), modern!au, unprotected sex (don't try this at home), oral (f receiving), fingering, heavy dirty talk, p in v, pulling out, overstimulation, mentions of anal, filming a sex tape, mentions of reader being cheated on
Summary: You had to make your ex pay for what he did, to you and his former fellow Hellfire party member. There's only one person that can truly help you with that.
Word count: 3.7k
A/N: Good news, gang! Turns out, I actually do remember how to write anything other than Busy Streets and Busy Lives!
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Waving at Wayne as his car passes yours on his way out of the trailer park puts your mind at ease. That's one potential barrier out of the way. The other is whether or not your potential other party agrees to your little plan.
You didn't participate too much in your ex's Hellfire Club stuff because campaign time was campaign time only, and unless you were summoned to stand in for someone, you weren't a part of this story's main adventuring party. Nonetheless, you'd developed your own camaraderie with the group - especially the only regular female player. 
Which is why it was all the more heartbreaking to see the screenshots of your then-boyfriend's attempts to slide into her DMs. Watching him gaslight her into believing that she was misreading his messages as being flirtatious, despite them definitely being so, hurts enough. Your heart sinks to the floor when you see the photos he'd sent. You know pretty well what his own dick looks like and that's definitely what he sent her. Completely unsolicited. Judging by the timestamp and the sheets beneath him, he even took those while you were asleep next to him.
You needed to make him regret doing that for the rest of his pathetic little life. You needed to hit him where it would hurt most.
And so, you knock three times on Eddie Munson's door. He greets you warmly, but there's an air of sympathy to him. "Hey. Um, I just want you to know, right off the bat, that shitbag's never, ever setting foot near the table again. Next session, his character's getting killed off in the most humiliating way I can come up with, and I totally get if you don't want to, but we'd need a full-time stand-in -"
"I didn't come here to talk D&D, Eddie," you cut him off, and his brow furrows.
"Well, if it's emotional support you're after, then I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm not of any use there."
"Not that, either," you shake your head. "I - I don't want anything to do with that asswipe ever again, but I still wanna make him pay." You start pacing the expanse across Eddie's living space. "I mean, sure, I dumped his ass, but he'll feel no remorse from that, he didn't care enough about me to stay loyal. I need to really stick a dent in his pride. I need it to come from someone he really admires." You look at Eddie hopefully.
He shrugs, "Sure, I'll teach that bastard a lesson. What do you have in mind?"
You take a deep breath in. "Well, if he's going to send dick pics without remorse… I was thinking… You and I go one better and send him a - a video. If that's okay with you."
Eddie feels as though all his Christmases have come at once. He'd always found it tough tearing his eyes away from you with your boyfriend mere feet away. He wanted to sucker-punch the sense back into him when he'd learned what your ex had done. But this? So much better.
Rubbing his jaw, Eddie nods. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, we can do that." He gestures for you to follow him to his room, which you do. "My phone, or yours?"
You contemplate, "Yours. It'll sting more coming from you."
Eddie nods, setting his phone on a surface close to the bed and setting up the right angle. "So, clothes already off, clothes on? Anything definitely off the table, or on it?"
"Clothes off, I want it to pack a punch the moment he hits play," you direct, and Eddie nods, throwing his shirt off. You knew there was more ink beyond his forearms, you'd seen little peekaboo moments of the artwork adorning his body, but seeing them all out in the open, as though he's an open sketchbook,  captivates you. He's obviously watching you stare at each one as he smugly swivels himself around to show you all of them at all angles. You continue, "Um, how do you feel about… Not wearing - I promise, the video will stop before any completion happens, I'm not here to get knocked up or anything," you quickly explain, to Eddie's amusement.
"Yeah, I'll fuck you raw." Something about the way he casually purrs that as a smirk tugs at the left corner of his lips sends a buzz through your nervous system that settles at your core. "Anything else?"
"Um… He never really liked… Going dow-"
"Oh my god, of course he didn't," Eddie interrupts. "But he'd have you -?" You nod. "Disgraceful."
"And even though I would always ask him to, he wouldn’t talk dirty to me. So maybe if he saw that in action?"
"Oh, fuck yes, doll, you are speaking my language," Eddie grins. "We talking praise, degrading, narration? How rough do you want me?"
"Honestly, go nuts. I'm all good for all of it. In terms of the talk… I'm good with any as long as it's not humiliating me, but the more possessive, the better." 
"Hmmm, you better get those clothes off and that camera started, baby, or else I might get ahead of myself." Eddie shuffles out of his jeans and palms himself over his boxers as he watches you strip to your underwear with great intent. 
You both silently agree to strip down your last layer at the same time, getting all of the awkwardness out of the way. You're in awe of his cock, stood of its own accord even before he starts stroking himself at the sight of you. You chew your lower lip as you watch in fascination and he grins, "You gonna at least hit record before I end up coming all over my hand?"
You hop onto Eddie's bed, feet swinging above the floor as you ask, "Where do you want me, Mr Director?"
Eddie glances over at his phone screen, smirks, and taps it before striding over to you, pulling you into position by your legs, and throwing one over his shoulder. Pushing the other one out, you realise to get a good angle of it for the camera, he sweeps his hair to one side and makes quick work of snaking his tongue inside of you. 
Your fingers card through his hair and grip tightly, and he hums with approval against your core as his nose nuzzles at your clit. "Is that good, baby?" he purrs between licks, and you nod. He surfaces, shaking his head. "Use your words, sweet thing."
You swallow hard. "Y-yeah, so good."
"Mmm, that's my good girl, doing as she's told, c'mere," he grips your thighs tightly as he laps back and forth at your clit. You sit yourself up at an angle to watch him yourself, the way he looks so lustfully as he goes to town on you. He blindly holds his hand up to you, wiggling two fingers specifically, and you take his wrist to aim them into your mouth. He moans as you suckle and lick his fingers, "Oh, fuck yeah, such an obedient little slut. Taste so good, and so good with your mouth, fuck, I can't wait to wear you around my fucking cock."
You whine, "Please?"
He chuckles, "Patience, sweetheart. I've a feeling you need to get stretched out before you can take me."
"You're so big," you moan wistfully as you fall back onto your elbows, and you feel Eddie's toothy grin press against you as he angles himself enough to slide two long fingers inside of you. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Your hand grips his hair tighter and he moans delightfully around you. "Fuck, Eddie, feel so good, I can't - I need to -"
Eddie resurfaces to rest his head against your thigh, gently sinking his fingers into you and stretching them apart before pulling them out to do the same thing over and over again. "So soon, baby?" he croons. "Getting your sweet little cunt eaten gets you this fired up?" You nod, and while Eddie wants to scold you again for not speaking, he's enamoured by the face you make when you're turned on. Eyes half-lidded, lips shiny and just-parted, chest heaving. He hasn't even played with your tits, yet. Fuck, he's barely gotten started with you and you're already a mess under his hand. 
"Please?" is all you can think to say as his fingers curl inside you, making you mewl out loudly.
"Fussy girl wants to come already?" he asks in that crooning voice again, and you nod. Eddie pulls away from you entirely, grinning at your despair, and gets up to straddle you from behind, pressing an oddly gentle kiss to your forehead as he does so. Once he's sat with his legs draped either side of you and his chest flush against your back, he takes one of your breasts into his hand to massage it as the other hand reaches down to rub fast, deliberate circles against your clit. His lips press kisses all along your throat as you cry out for him. His voice is low, breathy, but still loud enough to be recorded as he asks, "Fuck, yes, who do you belong to, huh?"
"You, Eddie," you moan, turning your head to try and face him as you say it, feeling your orgasm start to build faster than you've ever been able to muster yourself.
"Mmm, and who does this pussy belong to?" he asks before sucking a big, dark bruise onto the base of your neck. He feels your neck start to crane again and hums an uh-uh against your skin, pulling his head up to purr into your ear, "Don't tell me, baby." He pulls his hand away from teasing at your nipples to squeeze your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pushing your face around until you're facing his phone. "Tell him."
You look down the camera lens, moaning as Eddie sucks on your earlobe, the hand on your face now sliding down to wrap around your throat as the fingers on your clit work it faster. "It's all - shit, my pussy's all yours, Eddie. No- Nobody else makes it feel - this good, not even me, please," you falter into a plea at the end as you feel the crescendo looming.
"Damn right she belongs to me, and she wants me so bad, doesn't she?" His hand leaves your clit momentarily to dip down and coat his fingers in your thick juices. When he brings them up to your lips, the hand that had been so gently pushing against the pressure points in your throat falls to resume working your clit as you once again suck on his fingers. "Look at her, she's crying out for me, so desperate for it, can't wait to - to squeeze herself all over my thick cock as I fuck you the way you deserve, right? The way I've wanted to since I first saw you?" You make a small noise of intrigue around his fingers and Eddie chuckles, "That's right, sweetheart, but that's not why we're here, is it? We're here so you can come for me without me even needing to be inside you, aren't we? You're gonna show him what you really look like when you're satisfied, aren’t you?"
Still looking at Eddie's phone, your walls clench over absolutely nothing as your climax finally washes over you. Eddie continues to kiss and suck across your neck as he slows his attack on your clit and pushes the fingers in your mouth gently in and out as they muffle your moans.
"Fuck, yes, baby," he groans into your ear, "that was incredible."
Pulling down on his wrists until his fingers leave your mouth with a satisfying pop that you really hope the mic picked up, you lean back against Eddie and reach up to play with his hair. "Wanna watch me suck you off, now?" You ask with a coy grin.
Eddie bites his lip, "Any other time, absolutely. But right now, I need you sat on my dick and facing me so I can watch that pretty little face of yours as I make you cum over and over again. Why should he get all the fun of seeing that, huh?"
You squirm as you move yourself around to straddle him, pressing your forehead to his and mumbling, "You really ought to keep the dirty talk more believable, you know."
He frowns as his arms slide up and down your sides, cradling you, "You doubt my talents, sweetheart? You wound me."
"It takes an awful lot for me to get there, usually," you admit quietly, "even once."
"And look at you now," he smirks at the same volume. "Ready for me?" he asks as he reaches between you both to angle his cock away from where it rests against his torso. You nod eagerly, hovering up onto your knees and moving with him. Slightly louder, he grins, "I didn't hear you, ba- oh my fuck," he groans out as you sink down onto him without warning. "Oh, fussy girl can't wait, huh? God, you're fucking loving this dick, arent you, baby, huh?" he croons as he watches your face contort with pleasure as you lower yourself further and further until you're sat with him fully inside you.
With his arms wrapped tightly around you, and your hands on his shoulders to keep you in place, he leans in to kiss you openly, his tongue instantly seeking yours. You grind yourself against him while he's buried in you, moaning into the kiss at the feeling. "Fu-uuuck, Eddie," you moan. "Tell - tell me more - first time you saw -"
"Mmm, the first time I saw you?" he asks, reaching down between you again to rub your clit in gentle circles. "You walked in with him. Wearing a cute little dress, but you had a shirt on under it so I missed out on these," he gropes at your breasts. "Hmm, but fuck, I wanted you to stay. Wanted that cute little mouth sucking me off while he played just across the table. Wanted to feel that cute little ass of yours as I bent you over the table and fucking railed you."
You whine, "You wou- you'd fuck my ass?"
Eddie lets out his loudest moan yet, bucking up further into you. "Fuck, I didn't mean that, but if you'd let me, baby, any day of the fucking week. But I gotta take care of my pussy first, don't I? She's being so good to me," he purrs as he fucks you deeper. "I think - we've put on enough of a show, don't you?" he asks as he blindly reaches for his phone, angling it at both of your faces. "I don't think he deserves to watch you come over my dick. Say goodbye, sweetheart."
You look at the camera, smile coyly and turn to Eddie to lean in and bite his lower lip, both of you chorusing low chuckles to each other as he cranes his phone around to hit the stop button.
Reality crashes down on you as you realise it's all over now. That video was the reason you showed up. That was what he agreed to do. He notices your hesitation as he throws his phone aside and quickly swings you both around so that you now lay beneath him. You'd been so focused on making a good sex tape, you had barely paid attention to Eddie himself until now. Eyes blown black, his hair and his guitar pick chain dangling between the two of you, a light sheen of sweat showing against his dark ink. But by far the hottest thing of all about him was the sheer, primal hunger in his gaze.
"I hope you didn't think we were done yet, princess," he coos. "Now I get to really focus on you."
Not letting his gaze leave yours, he aims his cock inside of you once again, taking your hands in his and interlocking your fingers before fucking into you deeply.
Your back arches as he fills you, and you moan his name, to his delight. Before long, you're begging and whining again, your fingers clenching tighter against his. "Gonna come for me, baby? Fuck, tell me again, who owns you?"
"You - you do, Eddie," you moan, your hips squirming beneath him.
"Damn right, I do. Just like I said, I'll make you come over and over again. Do it, baby, come for me."
That euphoric feeling returns, but tenfold as you feel yourself tighten around his member. He slides it in and out of you gently as you work through your climax, but it's short lived as he climbs further onto the bed to line himself up with your chest, wrapping a wide, rough hand around his cock as he pumps it, sending warm spurts of thick cum flying against your breasts as he throws his head back and moans gutturally.
Looking down at yourself, then back up at him, you ask, exhausted, "G'me y'r phone, please."
He slowly hands it to you, confused, and you get up to kneel on the bed right in front of him, taking one of his hands and holding it up to your throat until he gets the hint to hold onto it himself, and then doing the same for the other arm, guiding it between your legs.
You swipe onto his camera, flip it to the front one, and set the phone down so that it only starts showing from your nose downwards, making sure that the bruises on your neck, and the cum on your chest aren't obscured. Setting a timer, you smile slyly as one photo takes. You take another with you biting your lip, and Eddie gets in on making sure you take one where he's kissing your neck amongst the hickey.
But Eddie lets go of your throat for a moment to switch the camera back to video mode, mutter in your ear, "You keep this right here, 'kay, baby?" and hit record right as the hand between your legs once again starts rubbing your clit with a lot more fervor than before.
Just as the timer starts recording, Eddie's grip around your throat tightens and you cry out silently, just about managing to squeak out a, "S-so - sensi- so much."
"I know it's sensitive, baby, that just means it'll be quick," Eddie promises, keeping his lips close to your ear, still in shot of the camera. "But I promised you, didn't I?" He drags two fingers across your drenched thighs, "After you already came for me, I promised it would happen again," he wipes one finger against your lower lip, "and again," he adds as he wipes the other there, too.
You groan, "Fuck, don't know - 'f I c'n take-"
Eddie shushes you, "Of course you can, baby. Your pussy's mine now, remember? And I already know her so well. Fuck, I can't wait to give you so much more. Did you mean it, sweetheart, when you asked me to fuck you in the ass someday?" You nod desperately, whining and keening against his touches. "Good, because I most certainly plan on having a lot of fun with my new cocksleeve. Have you be my new favourite after-gig tradition, where I get to go offstage and fill all your holes." You squirm against him, grinding your bare ass against him. "Mmm, afraid I'm not quite the free-use fucktoy you are, doll, that's not gonna work on me just yet," he drawls.
"Ple-ease, need to  need, fuck -"
"What's that, baby? You need to come again? Oh, but I thought it was so hard to get you there. Remember that when I send you this video and you watch it back, okay, sweetheart? Remember who makes you feel this good. Remember who fucking owns you."
"'s you, Eddie, fuck, I'm -" you scream out in ecstasy as a third orgasm travels entirely across your nervous system, filling your entire body with a high like you've never experienced before. With a grin, Eddie leans over to once again stop his recording and gently lay you down onto his bed. 
"Stay right here, okay, doll? Gonna get you all cleaned up."
You nod, mumbling, "Don't think - I can go anywhere else anyway."
Eddie chuckles under his breath, moving to kiss your forehead and then your lips before making his way to the bathroom.
He returns moments later with several warm, damp washcloths and fresh towels, and takes great care in mopping up your thighs and your chest, in major contrast from the Eddie you'd just experienced.
Once you're clean, he lays himself to curl up next to you on the bed and pull you in to spoon him, pulling his pillows down to where the two of you lay in the centre of the bed so he could place one under your head. You hum in happiness as he presses kisses to your shoulder. "You were fucking amazing, back there, sweetheart. A goddamn natural."
"Having such a good co-star certainly helped," you smirk back. 
"An', y'know. I don't want to put any pressure on you, 'cause what you're going through is a whole thing, but you know most of that was just talk for the camera, and that I see you as way more than a fucktoy, right?"
You pout, "So I'm not gonna be?"
He chuckles, kissing between your shoulder blades. "I didn't say that, did I? Just that… This is casual, and awesome, but I don't want you to think that I only did this to have sex. I did it to have it with you. And I'm down to be… Friends with benefits, fuck buddies, a rebound, whatever it is you need. 'Kay?"
You squeeze his arm around you a little tighter in thanks. You know you're certainly not ready for any kind of relationship again just yet. But who's to say that you can't have fun in the meantime? Maybe this goes further. Maybe it doesn't. All you know is, as you watch with glee as you watch Eddie send the first video to your ex, and then set his favourite of the photos you took as his home screen, you definitely made the right choice tonight.
12K notes · View notes
cordeliawhohung · 3 months
Text
pornstar!gaz x fem!reader
garrick's girl
cw: alcohol consumption, overly emotional smut, 99.9% smut, 0.1% plot, gentle possessiveness, actual morons in love
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It’s a miracle your dress is still on by the time you’re in Kyle’s bed. 
Comforter expertly smoothed over a large mattress, dipping underneath your combined weight, you’re interested to see how strewn about it’ll be by the time he’s done with you. Ravenous eyes peer at you through heavy lids, the complete opposite to the patience of his hands as he gently strokes the exposed skin of your thighs. Fat kisses press to the side of your calf as he lifts your leg, trailing down to your ankle until he reaches the strap of your shoes. Your foot falls free as he undoes the buckle, tossing the heel behind him where it clatters on the hardwood floor of his bedroom. 
“How often do you have to think about me to get off when you’re filming with other actors?” he asks nonchalantly. 
White hot embarrassment prickles underneath the skin of your cheeks and neck. Superheats you so furiously you’re certain Kyle can feel the warmth radiating off of you by touch alone. He’s quick. No beating around the bush, even though the patience of his hands would have you believe otherwise. Still, he moves with delicate intentions as he awaits your answer, removing your other shoe without taking his eyes off of you. 
“No one does it like you do,” you answer, voice trembling with want. 
He smirks, hands gliding toward the inside of your thighs before pushing them apart. Clothes still shroud both of your bodies, yet you feel the most exposed you’ve ever felt in your entire life. 
“No need for flattery, doll. There’s no cameras. No one on the viewfinder. Nothin’ but us. Tell me. I want the truth,” he urges, voice sweet as syrup.
You swallow. “It’s… not just on set.” His hands continue up along your thighs, thumbs brushing against the thin — nearly sheer — fabric of your panties. Your body lurches, demanding more, but you hold yourself back. “I think of you more than I should, I…”
“Do you think of me while you touch yourself?” he prods. 
It’s a question he already knows the answer to. One he can read in the DNA of your cells and the widening of your eyes. Shock echoes throughout your body at his insinuation, but you shouldn’t be surprised at how well he can read you. Kyle has been able to see right through you this whole time — some transparent being; skin made of cellophane. 
“Yes,” you breathe, hips writhing underneath his touch. A pathetic worm, yearning for more, longing for what he’s withholding from you. 
“Why? Is it because of how good I fuck you?” he asks. With each word he speaks, he’s sinking closer and closer to you, hands on either side of your head as his face dips into the crook of your neck — close enough that you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear. “Or is it because of something else? Something more?”
His lips part and you can feel the way the spit breaks in his mouth — already salivating at just the sight of you. 
“Were you also thinking of me when you said I love you on set today?” 
Palpable trepidation ripples through your skin; unforgiving and all consuming. Shaky hands brush along his back, following the defined ridge of his spine until you’re cupping either side of his face. You nudge him back, encouraging him to look at you. Throat tight, heart thumping — you pray you won’t regret this. 
“You’re the only person who makes me feel like this,” you say in a whisper, the pad of your thumb caressing the small scar on his cheek. “Kyle I… I don’t just follow anyone home. I’m not here just for you to fuck me. I’m here because I love you. And I want you to love me, too.” 
There is no breaking point. No instance in which the water boils over, flooding the stove with starch and foam. There is only warm fire. Campfire flames dancing in a pit; enticing and loving. A little spark. A sharp crack. Wood charring from the heat so that you can melt, sticky and sweet into the bed. 
His only response to you is his lips on yours, soft and savory as he licks up the faint alcohol on your tongue. There is no rush. No director calling out position changes, no bright lights, no camera in your face; just you and Kyle. Stone crumbles, cracks and breaks free — walls tumble until you’re open, bare and free. There is nothing — no apprehension or worry — there is only love. 
Dulcet kisses render your lips raw and fuzzy before traveling along your jaw, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Kyle tugs at the top of your dress, and you aid him in wiggling the straps down your shoulders where he pulls until your tits flow free from the fabric. He continues, embracing the line between your breasts, gracing your sternum with adoration, all while murmuring I love you, I love you between each one. 
His mantra continues, a repetitive notion as if he fears you might one day forget it if it’s not engraved in your skin. He says it into your chest, into your stomach, your pelvis; he continues his chant until he’s pushing up the skirt of your dress and placing kisses on your clothed pussy. Each pitched groan he pulls out of you is music — a symphonic melody he wants your mouth to emulate forever more.
“My girl,” he mumbles, fingers snaking underneath the band of your panties before dragging them down your legs. “Told you I’d get you alone. Wanna love you properly… wanna…” 
He cuts himself off, mouth swallowing the view of your cunt. Hips bucking up, Kyle’s name falls from your lips like a prayer as his tongue slides along your clit. It’s torturous, and already has your nerves sparking like live, frayed wires. It’s a familiar feeling — a nirvana he’s able to pull out of you on set — but there’s something different about it. The film is removed. The edges are sharper. There’s no fear or worry to muddle the bliss that’s mixing with your very blood. 
When he pulls away, he doesn’t leave you unstimulated for long before his fingers are prodding and pushing at your cunt. Your head lifts with a gasp, hands reaching for your chest as you look between your legs. Long, adept fingers glide in and out of you, aided both by your arousal and Kyle’s spit. His lips part as he stares down at his work, enchanted by the way you swallow him whole. 
It’s then that he realizes he can finally stop and smell the roses. Can take his time with you without the pressure to rush. And he is languid with it. Stuck in a dumbfounded stupor as he watches his fingers pump in and out of you over, and over, and over, and over —
“Kyle…”
Gentle hands slicing through the air, you reach for him until you’ve got a hold of his shirt. Dressy, perfect for the over-important party the two of you attended earlier. One by one, you undo the buttons separating his skin from yours before yanking him forward. He tries to keep his fingers inside of you, tries to unravel you, but you’re stripping him bare. Cloth undone, crumpled on the foot of the bed — he looks heavenly in the dim light of his bedroom. Silky smooth skin, dark loving eyes; you want to be unbound. Become nothing but stray chords and muscle, entangle yourself with whatever mess Kyle is about to render himself into. 
“I need you,” you whisper. You say it like a secret. Something nobody knows but you; as if the whole world isn’t afraid to burn to a crisp over your passion. 
He descends. Bare skin warm against yours, chest pressed against your breasts, lips on your neck, hands slowly guiding himself into you. He rests there for a moment, cock barely pressing against you, lined up perfectly yet refusing to further pursue you. Though Kyle enjoys teasing you — revels in the large pout and needy whines — everything he does is deliberate. It’s not to prod and upset you, not to rile you up; it’s a preparation. An agreement. Once he starts, he won’t stop until neither of you are sure where your bodies begin and end. 
There’s a gentle brush against your cheek. Fingers curling into the back of your head. A searing kiss that chars your lips and leaves them still begging for the heat. To seal the pact, he fills your cunt with one celeritous thrust of his hips, and he swallows the guttural moan he rips from your body. Tender. Consuming. He continues, shockwaves rippling throughout your body, moaning back into your mouth as the head of his cock splits you apart. 
You have fucked Kyle many times before, but it’s never been like this. Not with his body engulfing the expanse of your skin or his fingers interlocked with yours. You’ve never fucked like you were lovers. There’s never been such unrestrained ardor; something past simple concupiscence. The affection rotting your DNA is enough to destroy you, and you’d gladly crumble in his hands — as long as it meant Kyle gets to hold you. 
Maybe it’s the alcohol, but you sound more unrestrained than when you are on set. Like you’re not afraid to hide anything in fear that it’ll be burnt into film for the rest of your existence. Kyle leans back, lips leaving your skin for the first time in what feels like hours. A blazing incalescence sparks in his eyes as they flit across your face. He catches on to every expression that morphs in your features, how he can make your brows knit together with a particularly deep thrust, or how your lips part when he thumbs over your clit. Such a beautiful creature, laid out bare for him to witness in all her glory. 
“So fucking beautiful,” he whispers, whiskey breath panting across your face. “Look at you, my pretty girl. My girl. Could never tire of lookin’ at you.” 
Praise falls from his lips like water from a fountain, and he feels the way you clamp around him. His pretty girl, always eager for praise. His thumb grinds against your clit, adding pressure ever so slowly to the point you’re nearly seeing stars. Your hands reach out for him, grabbing for any sort of purchase you can get to keep yourself steady as your body rocks against the mattress. Nails digging into his skin, he knows you’re close. 
“Could do this every night. Have you in my bed. In my arms. I just wanna take care of you, doll.” He’s practically dancing on the edge. So close to his own euphoric release, yet stuttering to hold himself back. Not until you, he thinks. Not until you. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Give you that true love you deserve.” 
Your hips wiggle, fighting against his thumb as it unravels those sweet nerves underneath your skin. Eyelids fluttering, you try to keep your eyes on him; a fruitless effort. Your head presses back into the pillows — of which smell just like the same, spicy cologne Kyle always uses — as every muscle in your body tenses to the point of fracturing. 
“I need that. Need you,” you stutter through chattering teeth. “I love you. Fuck, I love you. P-Please, Kyle…”
“I know,” he shushes. His movements are steadfast — even and firm as he feels your muscles turn to mush under his very fingertips. You whine so sweetly, delicious honey and milk against his mouth as you fall apart at the seams. “There we go, there she is. Such a good girl, coming on my cock like that. F-Fuck. Gonna milk this cock next, yeah? Won’t ya, doll? My beautiful girl…”
When he finally lets go, he feels his entire body seize. Legs wrapping around his hips, you pull him closer to you as he twitches inside of you, dumping every last bit of spend he has to give you while his face presses against the side of your neck. A rhapsodic silence sits somewhere between heavy panting and faint giggles. There is no one to shout about the scene ending. No bored huffs as the set is torn down around you. There is only Kyle’s heat on top of your body, the faint glow of his living room lamp pouring through his bedroom door, and a gentle kiss on your jaw. 
When his arms and legs start to give out underneath him, Kyle rolls to the side, body colliding with the soft cot as he drags you along with him. Glorious giggles leave your lips as you nuzzle your nose into the center of his chest. It’s nice to just lay. To be embraced without prying, impatient eyes. To be loved. All along, you have been adored with such fervor; you were just never able to feel it through the barrier forced around your body because of work. 
“You smell good,” you mumble, once you’ve finally caught your breath. 
“Oh?” he prompts. 
“Mhm. Could eat you up.” 
“Feisty,” Kyle quips. 
A hum rumbles deep in his chest as he kisses the top of your head, arms snaking impossibly tight around you as he draws you close. You dissolve into him, limbs entangled, knotting until they’ll never come undone again. The pounding drum of his heart slowly relaxes into a steady rhythm, and you find yourself nearly falling asleep as he traces the dips of your hip. 
“So,” Kyle speaks up. There’s something off about his tone — like he’s grinning too hard to say his words properly. “How did Simon react when you said my name instead of his?” 
You groan, embarrassment flooding your face as you try to hide away. His laughter at you feels playfully mocking as he pulls you closer and wiggles around, as if he can shake the answer out of you. 
“I don’t even want to think about it,” you whine. 
“Come on, I wanna know,” he eggs. 
You sigh with a heavy pout forming on your lips. “He… grinned. Like the fucking bastard he is. Like he knew all along. He didn’t say anything on set, but when we were done he… mentioned that I should try to find you at the party tonight. He actually pointed you out to me while you were moping in the corner.” 
Despite your dig at him, he laughs. Sweet and deep. Comforting. Like he’s finally found home. 
“Well, at least he knows whose girl you are.” 
He feels your smile curve against his chest. “Garrick’s girl.” 
That night, after Kyle washes your body and holds you underneath warm, running water, you sleep in his bed. You sleep in his bed, in his clothes, in his arms. It comes as easy as breathing. As natural as dreaming. And as you fall asleep, you hum, content in knowing that this is how it should have been all along.
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lodeddiperactivate · 3 months
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Aftercare
A/N: I don't really put warnings on shorter fics unless they're full length ones, and I do have a general MDNI rule on my pinned post but I thought that this particular Rafe fic need its own set of warnings. Also, I saw the first part somewhere which then gave me the idea for the entire fic. If you know where it's from, pls let me know!
Warnings: 18+ only, smut, dark!rafe but he has soft moments after sex, male receiving oral, filming sex
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"You're so mean to me," you pouted at Rafe who was trying to look for a shirt to put on.
"Yeah, well you get off to it so what's your point?"
That's actually true, you thought to yourself but you also thought, wouldn't your boyfriend indulged you at least once in a while if you ask him to at least be nice for a change and maybe show some support? You decided to tease him further just as you saw Barry approaching.
"Hey Barry!" You enthusiastically called out to him. Rafe immediately shot you a look, which you responded with a smirk.
"What do you think of this new dress?" You twirled for him with so much glee you could hear and feel Rafe's blood boiling.
"Oh princess, that's such a lovely dress!" Barry exclaimed as he placed his hand on your lower back. He has always been so flirty with you and yet he's the only guy who Rafe hasn't beaten up yet.
"Why thank you, kind sir!"
"What's the special occasion?" He leaned even closer. Barry knew what you were doing. You've done this countless times, trying to make Rafe jealous so usually he would play along.
"There's no special occasion," Rafe said. "Have you got my shit?" He asked Barry obviously pissed.
"Yes, I've got your shit," Barry said, mocking Rafe. You and Barry shared a glance. He smirked at you and you couldn't help but giggle.
"Go upstairs," Rafe has finally had it. "And wait there until we're done."
"Come on, country club, she can stay with us," Barry flirted.
"Yeah, maybe I can-"
"Go, now!"
You pouted and said your goodbyes to Barry before going upstairs in his room and waiting. It was a couple of minutes before you hear Barry's motorcycle. Then, footsteps coming up the stairs. You prepared yourself for whatever version of Rafe you're going to face.
As soon as he walked in the door, he walked around the bed, carefully eyeing you. You didn't know what to do so you just sat there.
"Is that what you want? To whore yourself in front of Barry?"
"Oh come on, that's not what I was doing," you said as you stood up and walked towards him.
He pushed you back with so much force that you landed back on the bed.
"Ow! Rafe, what the-"
Rafe quickly wrapped his hands around your neck, his face inches away from yours, breathing heavily down on you as he slowly tightened his grip. You started to choke but could not help noticed the wetness starting to pool down below.
As if reading your mind, Rafe used his other hand to feel just how wet you are. He brought his hand down to rub the fabric of your panties before lifting it up to taste you. He smirked at you and pushed you back on the bed with so much force. He started taking his shirt off and his pants, so you naturally and instinctively took your clothes off as well but Rafe stopped you.
"You're not gonna cum unless I want you to," as he grabbed you by the hair and brought you to your knees. His cock inches away from your face. "You know what to do."
You sucked him out of fear, out of lust, out of excitement, who knows? What you knew is that Rafe had a grin plastered on his face the whole time.
"I knew you were a slut but damn, I believe you may also be a masochist," he said as he leaned closer so that your faces are inches away from one another.
"Open." You opened your mouth. "Stick your tongue out," which you did. Rafe then spit in your mouth and you swallowed. "At least I know there's one thing you would obey," he said as you proceeded to suck him.
"Please," you breathed. You needed some kind of friction that you started rubbing your clit while sucking him off.
Rafe smirked at you, took out his phone, and started taking a video of you sucking him while you're rubbing your clit. "Yeah, you're gonna whore yourself out to Barry. Well, maybe I'll send this lovely video to him so he can jerk off to it."
That statement made you moaned through Rafe's cock. You fingered yourself quickly and took as much as you can of Rafe, his full length.
"Oh? You like that huh?" You tried to reply but your mouth was full.
"I know you," Rafe said as he had chunks of your hair in a grip. "I know what you want, what makes you wet," he said as you feel him jerk in your mouth, you know he's close to cumming. "I know everything about you, and you're mine," Rafe groaned as he cummed all over your mouth. "Mine," he said as he grunted, disposing his seed into your mouth.
You collapsed on the bed from exhaustion and the sheer force Rafe had used on you. You couldn't help it as you drifted off to sleep right then and there.
When you woke, you noticed it was night time and the room was dimly lit. You also noticed that you were now wearing different clothes, comfier ones. They were Rafe's, an oversized shirt and boxer shorts. You were no longer wearing your panties.
On the bedside table, there is a glass of water and some of your favorite chocolates. Your favorite scent was on the diffuser, and the blinds were already drawn. For a moment, you completely forgot where you are and what happened earlier.
"Hey," Rafe said softly as he poked his head through the door. He then came in with a sandwich on a plate and some soda.
"Hey," you croaked. He smirked as he set the tray beside you. "I see you're still sore from earlier, yeah?"
You didn't respond, you tried to move your body and realized that he was right, your entire body was sore.
"Did I fall asleep after?"
Rafe cuddled beside you, pulling you closer, and stroking your hair. You were so tired that you naturally leaned in and rested your head on his chest.
"Yes, you did." Rafe said, you detected a hint of guilt in his voice.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry if I was too rough."
"You were kinda rough, but it's okay baby," you assured him. He wasn't convinced. He turned to face you and looked you in the eye, "I never want to hurt you, got that?"
"I know," you kissed him and smiled at him.
"And to show you I'm serious, I am going to be 100% nice to you!"
"But then you wouldn't be the Rafe I fell in love with?"
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hoshinasblade · 3 months
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i would like to apologize in advance because this sounds so rushed lol i just want to take a break from the angst. if u have any nsfw prompts, please send me an ask, i would like to write some more. THIS IS NSFW, MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.
sex is good.
but sex with hoshina soshiro is better.
it is saturday - on second thought, it may be sunday already, you can't really tell because it might well be past midnight. the entire day was spent replenishing the contents of your fridge - a grocery date has been the routine since you started dating soshiro. the dinner was a hearty meal that you enjoyed just as much as making it with your boyfriend - soshiro is meticulous and thorough in his cooking, and sometimes you even hesitate to offer help in fear that you only be a liability in the kitchen but tonight he trusted you with cutting some onions and peeling the potatoes.
the plan was to watch a movie you chose, cuddle and fall asleep in each other's arms. but your first mistake was that you did not research what the flick is about - it was the first thing to appear when you googled "what to watch with significant other" - so you were surprised that it was not even at the twenty-minute mark, and there is already a steamy scene.
"why's the guy eating her face?" soshiro wrinkled his nose before hurling criticism at the movie's leading man. he was licking the woman's chin now, and you cringed a little.
"don't be mean, soshiro. you kiss exactly like that," you responded but only to tease. more than anyone, you know that the truth is the opposite, but you are not about to tell him that. hoshina soshiro is already cocky as it is, you do not want to pile "excellent kisser" into the list of his achievements. unfortunately for you, one of the man's fatal flaws is his predictability, and so you waited for the dramatic reaction to come.
soshiro stole the remote control from your hands. you were comfortably leaning on him while watching, but now he turned to face you. "kiss me then", he dared, the challenge sounding more like a command. the room was dark, save for the light from the television. "come on, don't i get to defend myself? where's justice in that?" he narrowed his eyes at you, a taunting smirk forming on his lips. you're not surprised - an experienced high-ranking officer plays to his strengths, and hoshina soshiro does so well in provoking you to action.
as if on cue, the woman in the film moaned, but you and soshiro weren't even looking. he is focused on you this time, waiting for you to bite his dare. you were trying your best to steel your expression, but amusement was apparent in your eyes when you caught soshiro staring at your lips.
the flesh is weak indeed.
you felt soshiro grin into the kiss, happy with his victory - you initiated first contact, your lips touching his gently, your breath mingling with his. "can we turn that shit off please?" soshiro suggested, his left hand connecting with your cheek, his palm spanning up to your jaw, his thumb at the corner of your lips. you parted your mouth and licked the finger while making eye contact with him. "fuck it", soshiro cursed before grabbing you by the shoulders and pulling you into him.
it was not hard to bring you under him, and this is hardly your first time being intimate with the vice-captain of the anti-kaiju defense force's third division. it is embarrassing to already be this breathless when soshiro has barely done anything to you. his weight partially on you, he is impossibly close as his lips find the soft spot near your throat. you closed your eyes tightly, feeling soshiro drag his kisses lower and lower until he had to lift the collar of the blouse you were wearing so he could reach the skin the fabric was covering.
soshiro groaned when he discovered you were not wearing a bra underneath. he took off your clothes in one smooth motion and you did not resist. he nibbled at your collarbone, his breath fanning against your already heated skin. the temperature rise is apparent, and you feel burning up. "do you still think i kiss like that?" soshiro asked you, but the question almost did not register with you. your laugh turned into a sharp gasp as he trailed kisses down the valley of your chest, his deft fingers now working on the sensitive buds of your breasts.
"oh my fucking god", you swore. you are sure soshiro could hear your heartbeat now, and your pants got heavier as he held both of your wrists down the mattress over your head, limiting your movements.
"stay still for me," he requested, continuing his descent down your body. "baby."
soshiro had always preferred calling you by your name but he is also very generous with the pet names when he wants to get something from you. so far, his trick has never failed him.
"s-skip", your voice was husky from the tension. "skip that, i want you now." it's not that you are bored by foreplay, it's just that you are too wet now and if your boyfriend spends one more minute tracing patterns on your skin, you're afraid you would throw a fit.
impatience looks good on you, he was tempted to say. soshiro finally relented and released your arms from his grip. he kneeled in front of you, parting your legs. enough to make you squirm, soshiro seemed to be enjoying this game - he has a particular habit of taking his time with you, but as he takes off your pants and underwear, you realized he is just being torturously slow right now. a rough groan escaped you when you felt him bite you lightly; you clamped a hand over your mouth in reflex.
"you drive me crazy", soshiro said as he snatched your hand away, putting it at your sides. he gives you one final searing kiss before entering you. the world melted away.
your brain could not keep up with soshiro's actions anymore. one second you are looking up at him, and the next he had flipped your positions, your body hovering his now. your thighs on both sides of his torso, you relied on his hands on your hips, guiding you through the motions. up and down, up and down, you did not want it to end, and when you paused to catch your breath, soshiro had taken it upon himself to fuck up into you. "i'm close," you warned him when he picked up the pace.
that didn't take long, he thought. this is not your first rodeo -pun intended - so he knows you are more likely to cum faster when you are on top of him. ever the gentleman, he held your waist, lifting you a little, pushing inside you at a speed and angle that felt so good your body seized.
"soshiro, f-" he didn't cease moving, his mouth latching on yours, silencing your loud moans. tremors consumed you, a hot flush crawling from your belly outwards until your toes were curling with pleasure.
chasing his own orgasm now, soshiro did not have the self-control to stop the way his hips were moving, one of his hands left your hip to settle on your tits. you arched your back at the sensation. "say you want me to come inside you", he told you.
"i need you to come inside me." soshiro did not need to ask twice. scared that your knees would give out, you leaned into him and stared at his eyes.
desire overwhelmed soshiro and you watched him combust.
"you okay?" soshiro was the one to break the silence, your body slumped over his, unmoving. "did i hurt you?" the two of you are still trying to recover, and it warms you to know that even in this situation, his first thought is to find out if you are well. eyes still shut, you did not respond.
soshiro smacked you in the ass.
"you literally just fucked my brains out." and you're literally still inside me. you aimed to sound more forceful, but exhausted from your earlier activities, it came out weak. your head on his chest, you heard the rumble of his chuckle.
"oh god", he replied. "i gotta let you choose the movie next time too", he said, his hand on your hair.
you sighed quietly, sleep threatening to claim you. in the background, you can still hear the faint dialogue of the movie you and your boyfriend were supposed to watch.
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Sweeter Than Revenge Part 1
Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: When you try to surprise your brother with a visit in the hopes of mending your strained relationship, it does not go as planned. Rudely dismissed by Scott, you decide to get a little revenge. And who better to do it with than the head Tornado Wrangler himself... Word Count: 3509 TW: Family Conflict, Brief Mention of Reader's Clothes/Breasts, Unsucessful Flirting, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages
Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)
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Grabbing your backpack off the seat beside you, you stood and joined the crowd of passengers making their way to the front of the bus. You stopped to let an elderly couple join the line in front of you and used the momentary pause to glance out the window at your destination. A small diner in need of a fresh coat of paint and a good window washing sat off to the left while several rows of gas pumps were lined up on the right. Trucks, vans, campers, and SUVs filled almost every parking spot and spilled into the grassy field around the lot. Some vehicles were ancient, rusted machines that barely looked driveable while others were so fresh and high-tech they could have just been driven off a lot. Those were the vehicles you were looking for.
Stepping off the bus, you headed towards the group of four shiny new vehicles on the other end of the parking lot. On the way, your head was on a constant swivel as you took in everything around you: a middle-aged couple arguing loudly about who forgot to tie down the lawn chairs the last time they stopped, a somewhat familiar-looking man in a cowboy hat unloading a piece of equipment from his huge red truck while another long-haired man filmed him, a woman with dreadlocks fiddling with a remote control only for a large drone to drop out of the sky a moment later and land at her feet, a few children racing towards the diner with their exasperated mother trailing behind yelling at them to watch where they were going. 
It was utter chaos and you loved it already. 
As you approached the vehicles, you saw the Storm PAR logos printed on the sides and breathed a sigh of relief that after this sixth bus stop, you had finally tracked them down. You still didn’t see who you were looking for, so you walked up to a man with dark curly hair wearing a white button-down Storm PAR shirt who was currently crouched down examining a weird solar panel-looking piece of equipment set up next to one of the vans. As you cleared your throat, he looked up from the machine and blinked, as if he was shocked to see someone standing there despite the crowds of people around him. Glancing around, he asked, “Um…can I help you?”
You guess you shouldn’t be too surprised by his reaction. In your cut-off shorts, boots, and halter top, you looked like you should be hanging out one of the trucks you passed when you first got off the bus, not the polished, company polo shirt-wearing tech heads milling around the Storm PAR vehicles. And you didn’t even want to know what your hair and makeup looked like after four hours on that poorly air-conditioned packed bus. 
So, instead of taking offense at this guy’s slightly dismissive tone, you smiled as you adjusted the backpack on your shoulder. “Hi. I’m looking for Scott.”
The man glanced over his shoulder but made no move to stand up. “He’s here but he’s in the middle of some data calculations. Can I help you with something?”
“Not really. I had time off college and he mentioned you guys were having a really active season so I figured why not come out and see all this in action.” The man was still looking at you like he couldn’t understand why you were talking to him and you suddenly realized you hadn’t explained the most important detail. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I guess I should have mentioned, Scotty’s my older brother.”
Instantly, the man’s demeanor shifted and a huge toothy smile spread across his face. “Oh! You should have led with that. Nice to meet you.”
Rising to his feet, he stuck out his hand and you shook it, officially introducing yourself. When he said his name was Javi Rivera and it was your turn for things to click into place. “Javi! You’re Scotty’s business partner, right? He’s told me about you.”
Javi let your hand drop and his eyes shifted towards his equipment once more. “Really? Well, um, you know, I’ve, uh, heard great things about you too.”
You grinned, grabbing onto the straps of your backpack. “Scotty never even mentioned he had a sister, did he?” Javi gave a slight shrug, still not looking directly at you and you laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like him. Never wants to get personal, everything’s about business with him. To be honest, I don’t see or hear from him that much which is just another reason I figured I’d come surprise him when I had the chance. Plus, I read some research Scotty left lying around last time he came home and it was really interesting. I’m excited to be able to see what you guys do firsthand.” 
“Well, I’m sure Scotty will be glad to see you. Let me go grab him.”
Javi turned and disappeared into one of the vans. A moment later, he returned with your brother following closely behind. “Javi, I was in the middle of some important calculations. Why did I have to–” Scott stumbled to a stop as he saw you standing there.
Since he was a teenager, Scott had mastered the art of keeping his emotions hidden. He could be fuming mad, joyously happy, or heartbrokenly sad, and in each case keep the same perfect mask on his face. However, you knew his one tell. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep the emotion out of his eyes. And right now, you could practically see flames burning within them. 
For the first time, you wondered if coming to see him had been such a good idea. Shifting from one foot to the other, you tried to force a smile as you half-heartedly held out your arms. “Surprise.”
Scott remained rooted to the spot, his only movement the constant forceful chewing of his gum. Javi glanced back and forth between the two of you, the smile slowly draining from his face. Hesitantly, he explained, “She said she was your sister so I figured…”
A cultivated smile spread across Scott’s lips but it didn’t reach his eyes as they continued to burn into yours. “No, it’s all good. I’m just surprised to see her.” Without breaking eye contact, he held his tablet out to Javi who took it from him. “Give me a few minutes to talk to her and then I’ll get back to those numbers.”
Javi started to protest, assuring him there was no rush and he could take his time, but Scott had already closed the distance between you. Grabbing your arm tightly to the point of slight painfulness, he guided you past the rest of the Storm PAR vehicles and into the empty field. 
Once you were far enough away that you knew none of his co-workers could hear you, you wrenched your arm from his grasp, snapping, “Get off of me!”
“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled, his mask finally slipping as his nostrils flared and lips curled into a snarl.
“Well, hello to you too!” You examined your arm where he had grabbed you, massaging it gently. “Can’t a girl come visit her big brother?”
“Not when she wasn’t invited or even asked if she could come beforehand! What were you thinking? This isn’t one of your wild party vacations. This is my job!”
“I know that. I wasn’t expecting you to drop everything and take me sightseeing. I just thought I could hang around and watch you guys in action. I’ve read some of the research you left at Christmas and I was hoping maybe I could learn a little more about it.”
Scott shook his head, his hands on his hips. “This is our busiest time of the season. I don’t have time to babysit you.”
“What do you think I am? Eight? I don’t need you to babysit me. I told you, I’m interested in what you do and thought I could just hang around and see how it all works.” You shrugged, “Maybe you could even take me on a chase or two.”
“Hell no. I won’t have you getting scared and causing us to have to turn around in the middle of a storm run. Javi and I have worked too hard to get this company to where it is and I’m not going to let you ruin that because, on a whim, you thought it would be fun to see a storm.” Scott scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “It’s so typical of you to still think that just because you want something or because Mom and Dad will pay for it, everyone else will bend over backward to accommodate you. Well, I don’t have to put up with your bullshit anymore.”
You took several deep breaths and tried to keep your anger in check. This was not at all how you thought this would go, but lashing out right now would only make things worse. So, in a calm, steady voice, you tried to shift approaches. “Scotty, we haven’t spent any real time together since you left for MIT. And back then…I’m not proud of the person I was and I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. But I was a kid who didn’t know any better! I’ve grown up since you left. And this trip isn’t just something I thought would be fun to do ‘on a whim’. I worked hard to save up the money to come here because I wanted to see you and spend time with you—however little time you may be able to work into your schedule. And I promise I won’t get scared or make you stop your chase. If I don’t like it, I’ll suck it up until it’s over then not ask to go again.” Taking a step forward, you gently placed your hand on his arm and gave him a timid smile. “Let me show you who I am now…how much I’ve changed. Please, Scotty.”
But Scott yanked his arm away and took a step back. “I don’t care where you go, but you need to stay away from me and Storm PAR. Now, I have work to do.” He took one last look at you, and, for just a moment, you thought maybe he felt bad for what he said and was reconsidering things. But then, he blew a small bubble with his gum and popped it loudly in your face. You jumped slightly, the sound sharp and startling, before glaring at him. He had been doing that since you were kids and he knew how much you absolutely despised it. Shooting you one last smug smirk, Scott turned and walked off towards the cluster of Storm PAR vehicles. 
You turned to look out into the open field, lip quivering, as you fought against the tears that were burning your eyes. Things between you and Scott had been pretty bad when he left for college, but you hadn’t realized he still really thought so poorly of you. The last few holidays or family events he had been forced to come to, things seemed to be getting a little better. You thought that maybe you had reached a turning point in your relationship. But now it was clear you had been very wrong.
Looking back at the diner and overflow of vehicles, you wondered what you should do now. You had no idea when the next bus came by or how to get a ticket home or if there was a motel nearby you could stay in for the night or how you would even get there if there was or what you would do in the morning or—
UGH! The longer you stared at the Storm PAR logo on the side of the van Scott had disappeared into, the less hurt you felt. Instead, the pain began to shift into outrage. How dare Scott treat you like this? You had spent a lot of money and wasted two weeks of your summer vacation to take this trip to see him. You knew it would involve listening to him drone on about numbers and graphs you could barely comprehend for most of the time, but you were willing to smile, nod, and seem interested to show you cared about what he did. But no! He didn’t even give you a chance to explain yourself or prove that you weren’t here to interfere with his work. He had just torn you down before turning his back on you and walking away. That asshole!
The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky and you realized standing here fuming about Scott wasn’t going to help your situation. You could do that once you found a bus schedule or a place to stay for the night. However, as you stormed back through the parking lot, something caught your eye. 
When you had come through the first time and passed the familiar-looking man and the long-haired guy with the camera, you had only seen their truck from behind. But now that you were looking at the front, you noticed the distinctive metal logo attached to the front of the truck’s grille: a tornado with horns jutting out the top of the vortex. And you realized why the man in the cowboy hat looked familiar. 
Scott might not talk to you very often, but during the instances that he had, you had heard plenty of complaints about Tyler Owens and his group of Tornado Wranglers. Everything they did was the complete opposite of how Storm PAR operated and it drove Scott crazy that while he was out there doing the “real work”, this group of amateur YouTube chasers were the ones getting all the attention and acclaim when all they were really doing was getting in Storm PAR’s way. 
And Scott seemed to have another level of hatred for Owens himself.    
Out of curiosity, you had looked up the Wranglers’ YouTube channel and found it pretty entertaining. While Scott viewed every aspect of his work with complete seriousness and professionalism, these guys tackled the same work like they were having the time of their lives. They were still informative, explaining to their viewers how tornadoes formed and the types of destruction they can cause, but they would then drive straight into the center of a funnel or take chat requests of crazy things to do in the storm. It honestly seemed like a great way to get people excited about learning about tornadoes while also keeping them entertained. And it seemed like their nearly 850,000 followers would agree. No wonder Scott hated them so much. 
Suddenly, you had an idea—the perfect little act of revenge.
Changing directions, you made your way over to Owens’s truck. You could see he was now alone, tinkering with the equipment attached to the bed of his truck. He had traded his white cowboy hat for a faded backward cap and had pushed his sleeves up above his elbows as he worked, his sun-bronzed skin on full display in the dying light.
Though you had only watched a handful of the Tornado Wranglers’ videos, you had a pretty good idea of the kind of man Tyler Owens was and how you could persuade him to help you. After all, these narcissistic, jacked-up truck-driving, overcompensating pretty boys were all the same. The kind who had been fawned and swooned over their entire adult lives just because they flashed a charming smile or a playful wink in the right direction. However, with just a little stroking of their ego or a bat of your eyes, they could become putty in your hands. All you had to do was introduce yourself.
Reaching the side of the truck, you tucked your hands into your back pockets so it thrust your chest forward and, biting your lip, called out coyly, “Hey there, cowboy.”
Owens glanced up, a curious smile curling across his lips as he saw you, his eyes traveling from your head to boot and back up. “Well, hello there.”
Giggling softly as you placed your hand on the side railing, you asked in a sing-songy voice, “You’re Tyler, right? The big...bad…tornado wrangler?” With each word, you walked your fingers across the railing, your eyes locked on his.
He leaned back, wiped his hands on his jeans, and said, “I might be. Depends on who’s asking.” He was still looking at you but his smile had slipped slightly and you realized you might not have grabbed his attention as well as you thought.
Placing both hands on the railing now, you pushed yourself up slightly, your chest pressed together, and you looked up at him from under your lashes. “What if I’m asking?”
Owens stared at you for a long moment, his eyes still examining you thoughtfully, though you were shocked to see they stayed locked on your face and didn’t dip down to your breast like you had expected. Then, finally, he said, “You seem like a nice girl, sweetheart, but I don't think I'm what you're looking for. Good luck though.” He gave you a kind, yet dismissive nod, and went back to whatever he had been working on.
Your jaw dropped, lips moving silently as you tried to figure out what just happened. This kind of thing always worked on guys like him in the past. Show a little skin, stroke their egos a little, and they would be wrapped around your finger in no time. But he hadn’t even given your act more than a passing glance. It was possible you weren’t his type or maybe he was in a committed relationship, but neither of those things had exactly deterred guys in the past. 
You turned around—properly dismissed—and were just about to walk away when another thought crossed your mind. What if…what if you had misjudged him? What if he wasn’t the kind of guy you assumed he was? From what you had seen in his videos, he was cocky and overconfident and a huge flirt, but what if that was all for the cameras? During your very brief interaction, he seemed polite and respectful even as you tried to throw yourself at him, something no other guy had ever done in that situation. 
Maybe you had gone about this all wrong. Maybe you needed a different approach. A more honest one…
You hurried around the other side of the truck so you were in front of him once more. Dropping all the over-the-top flirtatiousness from your voice, you said, “Okay, I’m sorry. I thought…it doesn’t matter what I thought, but the point is I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve had a really shitty day and approached this situation all wrong.”
Owens didn’t raise his head, but his eyes drifted back in your direction. Feeling like he was offering you a chance, you explained, “Listen, the deal is I came here to surprise my brother with a visit, and as soon as he saw me, he told me he doesn’t want me here and I should fuck off out of his way.”
That got his attention. Looking up, his brow furrowed, Owens asked, “Your brother said that to you?”
You rolled your eyes and hit the heel of your palm against the side of the truck. “Well, not in those exact words but the sentiment was there. The point is, he told me he didn’t care where I went as long as I left him and his team alone. So, I plan on respecting his wishes…and wondered if I could hang out with your team instead.”
“Well–” He leaned back, clearly not interested in your request, but you cut him off before he could turn you down.
“Please! It’ll just be for a day or two. I promise not to get in the way or mess with any of your work. I just know he has a problem with you guys and seeing me with you will drive him insane.” 
Putting down the wrench he was holding, Owens shook his head. “Back up…who are we talking about now? Who’s your brother?”
You realized you needed to get better at introducing people into a conversation before jumping right in. “Scott? He works for Storm PAR?” He hesitated so you sighed and turned towards the other group of storm chasers at the other end of the lot. With one hand on your hip, you pointed lazily with the other, “The surly tall one who never takes off his stupid baseball cap?”
Instantly, Owens straightened up and you knew you had piqued his interest. Chuckling, he asked, “Wait, so you’re telling me Mr. Clipboard and Chewing Gum is your brother?” You nodded. “And you want my help messing with him?”
“Yeah, that about sums it up. So, will you do it?”
The cowboy leaned over the side of the truck and gave you a wide grin. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve come to the right place.”
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Part 2 coming 8/19!
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fanficimagery · 8 days
Text
Joining the Biz.
When the hotels are all booked up, your cousin asks if a few friends can crash at your place. You accept, not knowing you'll be meeting some people who will become lifelong friends and get a shot at doing what you once loved. [Part Three of Three]
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Words: 9.9K Author's Note: I know Rey Mysterio is part of the LWO or whatever it's called, but for the sake of this.. he's all alone and needs help from others. Also, I know there are several females on the Smackdown roster that are amazing, but I just recently started watching again so I only mention those I'm somewhat familiar with. No offense to any of those lovely ladies. FYI, I don't write smut. The most I write is mediocre kissing lmao. And Jesus fuck. Do you know how hard it is to write a wrestling match? Why did I do this to myself?
You continue to make appearances on Raw, this time everything being filmed backstage.
The feud between father and son amps up, you being there every time to help your Tio up and glaring at a laughing Judgement Day, but more importantly at a smug Liv who thinks she's untouchable. Even the Terror Twins and Jey Uso get involved, helping Rey when Judgement Day overwhelms him. Eventually it evolves to a fight, four on four; Rey, Damian, Rhea, and Jey versus Dom, Finn, Liv, and JD with Carlito subjected to watching from the sides. Everyone knows Carlito will get involved, but so will you. Even if the fans don't know it.
Before you're revealed on Smackdown, however, you're to be an anonymous ally to Rey, Jey, and the Terror Twins for their match. Only Rey will know of the identity of the ally, leaving everyone in the dark, but everyone will know exactly where this ally is to be hidden during the duration of the match so as to not mess up what's been written in the script.
You're to have a slight makeover for Smackdown, but you can't do what they want just yet, so you settle for only the anonymous outfit. They give you an oversized black hoodie with black jeans and black booties with a chunky heel. To keep your identity hidden, they double french braid your hair, plop in purple contacts, and give you a mask like the one the Winter Soldier from the Marvel universe wears.
Between one match and the next, the arena goes dark during a commercial break. The production crew has to sneak you to the ring and hide you beneath it before the lights come back up.
(Live on Raw)
It feels like forever before the two groups swagger down to the ring and are introduced, and then even longer once the match starts.
Once you get the cue from your Tio, you slide out from beneath the ring and stay crouched by the side. The fans that see you start to cheer, and any second Liv will round the corner of the ring, running from Rhea. Sure enough, when she does, you fly up and sprint at her, spearing her to the ground.
The crowd goes wild, even more so when Rhea comes to a stop in front of you and the two of you have a stare down. She seems suspicious of you, at least up until you mockingly salute her- the same salute she'd given you when you first made your appearance on Raw. Her eyes seem to gleam with recognition then, but then your gaze is darting behind her where Carlito is running up.
Shoving Rhea aside, you superkick Carlito right across his chin. As Carlito falls, you turn towards Rhea and place your index finger over where your mouth is beneath your mask as if shushing her to keep the secret.
In the ring, there's a count of three and your Tio and friends are announced the winners. When Rhea takes her gaze off of you, you jump the barricade and rush through the crowd.
(End of segment broadcast.)
You make quick work of jumping into a waiting car in the garage, stripping off your mask behind the tinted windows and are driven to the hotel you're staying at. You find your bag at your feet, yanking out your phone and sending a text to Rhea, while also changing into normal clothing so Jey doesn't find the anonymous outfit in your room.
To Rhea: All will be revealed Friday Night. Stay tuned.
It's not until you're back in the room you're sharing with Jey that she texts back.
From Rhea: So, it's safe to assume you'll be on Smackdown? To Rhea: Paul hasn't spoken to you guys? From Rhea: What's going on? To Rhea: Shit. You didn't hear this from me, so don't spread it. My home will be Smackdown, but Paul mentioned that with how the storylines are going.. it looks like both rosters will be making appearances either night. No one's going to be stuck only on Raw or only on Smackdown. I'm not sure how long that will last though. From Rhea: This is going to be fun. Btw, Jey's convinced you were the anonymous female who helped us. To Rhea: Good luck proving it. I've done a good job making it seem like I've been in the room all night.
You send her the gif of Karen from Mean Girls where she fake coughs and says I'm sick. Rhea sends you back a laughing emoji and wishes you luck.
Later, when Jey gets back, he looks prepared to grill you about your whereabouts. But when he sees you all snuggled up and looking a little under the weather, he leans over you to kiss your forehead.
"You need anything?"
You feel bad lying to him, but it's only for a few more days. "No. Just want you to hold me. How was work?"
"You mean you didn't watch?"
"I did, but I just want to hear you talk."
Jey smiles. "Let me shower really quick and I'll tell you all about it."
Jey makes quick work of showering and when he exits the bathroom in nothing but a pair of briefs, you mentally curse the restraint the two of you have. It's no secret to either of you that you're it for one another, but taking that next step seems to be stumping the two of you. You'll be affectionate with each other and sleep in the same bed, but you've yet to kiss or anything. It's almost like you're afraid to take that final step and lose what you currently have.
But as Jey snuggles in next to you, all that seems to fade away and you listen as he recounts his day at work and how he'll be making an appearance on this upcoming Friday Night Smackdown.
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Week after week, Roman's been dealing with Solo and his version of the Bloodline. Sure, he has Jimmy, and Jey's been allowed to come over when needed, but Solo has something that Roman doesn't and it's hindering his climb back to Tribal Chief.
It goes against both Roman and Jimmy's real life and alter ego's morals to lay hands on a woman, even though Nia Jax has no issue laying hands on them. So, when Paul laid out the storyline that a female wrestler would be put into Roman's side of the Bloodline, Roman was relieved but also skeptical. Who would be good enough to stand up to Nia Jax? He knows the female roster on Smackdown and there's no one decent enough besides Bayley, but Bayley doesn't seem to fit with him or Jimmy. She has her own alter ego, and it doesn't mesh well with that of Roman.
When he learns that some wrestlers will be given the green light to swap back and forth on Raw and Smackdown, he thinks of Rhea since she now has a connection to Jey, but then disregards it because she has the Terror Twin schtick going for her. When he asks Paul who his little enforcer will be, Paul merely smirks and mentions that he's going to like her just fine.
The night for the newest addition to his faction comes, and he's anxious. The storyline is pretty good, and he can't wait to see his female enforcer take out Nia Jax since Nia is currently injured and needs an excuse to be out for a few months. That and he gets to unmask her.
. .
. .
Ready for your debut, you stare at your new haircut in the mirror. They gave you a trim so your hair reached just below your shoulders while also giving you a small undercut on the left side of your head, just enough to cut a design into the shaved part. As your hair swoops over to the right, the roots along the part in your hair are dyed a vibrant red.
The purple contacts have been left out, showcasing your natural eye color. Your mask, the one you dubbed the Winter Soldier is back in place, shielding the bottom half of your face. You have your hoodie zipped all the way up to your neck, you're back in dark skinny jeans, and back in the black booties with heels.
You watch the monitors as everything unfolds out in the ring, waiting for your cue to rush to Roman's aide.
(Live on Smackdown)
The fight turns brutal fast.
Solo is livid that the Ula Fala has been stolen from his locker room, and everyone is in agreement that Roman must have taken it. But when Roman meets them in the ring, he has no idea what they're talking about.
Solo and his Bloodline are hearing nothing Roman has to say and beats him down. When he's handcuffed to the bottom rope, Nia takes her chance to get in a few hits on the ex-Tribal Chief. Only when a table is brought in and set up near one of the corners do the Usos theme song blare through the arena. As the twin brothers rush to Roman's aide, Paul Heyman seems relieved outside the ring.
When Solo sees Jimmy and Jey though, he quickly drops to roll out of the ring and drags Jacob Fatu with him. Uncaring of their cowardice, Jimmy and Jey deal with Tama Tonga and Tonga Loa. As those two are tossed from the ring, all that's left is Nia who isn't paying attention and delivering kick after kick to Roman's chest as he slouches in the corner of the ring, unable to move.
Having crept into the crowd, you jump the barricade much to everyone's glee. Jumping onto the side of the ring, you step between the bottom and middle ropes, and crouch in the corner opposite of Nia. Jimmy and Jey glance at you, but you only have eyes for Nia. As you start pounding on the mat, the crowd matches the beat with a clap of their hands.
Nia finally takes notice of the atmosphere, and she goes to turn, you stand and rush her, delivering a superkick to her chin. Dazed and confused, Nia falls. You glance between Jimmy and Jey, pointing at Nia and then pointing to the table. Both brothers glance at one another before shrugging, picking up Nia and laying her out on the table before stepping back. Paul Heyman then rushes to uncuff Roman.
Turning to the corner post closest to the table, you start to climb. The crowd goes wild as Solo and his Bloodline watch Nia be annihilated. As you stand on the top rope, you briefly glance over your shoulder to make sure you're lined up. Then with a roar as your arms stretch out on either side of you, very reminiscent of Jeff Hardy, you moonsault backwards off the top rope and put both your body and Nia's through the table.
The landing practically punches the breath out of you, but you pull it together as you crawl away from the destruction. Nia lays there, unconscious, and you stand to glare at Solo and Jacob as they reach under the bottom rope to grab Nia by the ankle and drag her out of the ring.
You pace back and forth then, adrenaline pumping and watching Solo and his Bloodline retreat up the ramp.
When the crowd quiets, you turn around, only to be met with Roman Reigns rubbing at his sore wrists. Jimmy and Jey flank him, unsure of you, and Paul Heyman stands off to the side looking a bit weary himself. At least he looks weary until you unzip the hoodie and strip it off, leaving you in an OTC shirt- Roman's merch- and the missing Ula Fala draped around your neck.
Paul Heyman gasps, Jimmy and Jey act surprised, and Roman's jaw twitches as he stares you down. Fisting your right hand, you cross your arm over your chest with your first above your heart and bow your head to Roman. A moment passes and then you take off the Ula Fala, holding it up for him. Roman watches you and hesitantly lowers his head, and you drape the Ula Fala around the rightful Tribal Chief's neck.
As the crowd goes wild for the turn of events, you stand back with your feet shoulder widths apart. Your hands clasp behind your back and you stare straight ahead. Roman takes his sweet time searching your features for any sign of deceit. He reaches for your mask then and, when you don't budge, he unclasps it.
Roman makes it as dramatic as he can as he pulls the mask off and when he does… you can see him fighting a smile when recognition sets in. Jimmy, however, has no restraint and ends up laughing when he sees it's you. Apparently, Roman and Jey weren't the only ones kept in the dark about your identity.
The crowd is surprisingly cheering for you and you're grateful for it. You weren't sure how your presence on Smackdown would be taken considering your family was on Raw.
Jimmy is slapping a stunned Jey on his shoulder, nudging him while pointing at you. Roman proceeds to shock everyone as he steps forward and envelops you in a hug, tucking your head beneath his chin and just holding you close for a moment.
"You're my female enforcer?" He asks, making sure to hide his mouth so no one can read his lips.
Pulling back a little, you stare up at him. "It looks like we're gonna be spending a lot of time together, Reigns." You allow yourself to flash a cocky smirk. "Get used to it, Big Uce."
Roman chuckles as you step out of the hug. You step to his side and grab his wrist, raising his arm in the air as high as you can while pointing at him and hollering at the crowd. Jimmy grabs his other wrist, doing the same, and then Jey grabs your other wrist to raise in the air. When you glance at him, you can see the excitement in his gaze, but he's keeping it toned down since he can't do anything to jeopardize his storyline with Rhea.
In the middle of the Smackdown ring, Roman and his Bloodline is introduced.
You, Jey, and Jimmy then break off, amping up the crowd and acknowledging Roman with a hand raised in the air, index finger pointing to the ceiling.
When it's time to head back, you pick up your mask and roll out of the ring. There are people screaming and hollering, and you flash everyone a cocky smirk while walking backstage.
(End of segment broadcast.)
Once the camera lights cut out to signify the end of filming, Jey whirls on you and backs you into a wall where he grasps your face and plants his lips on yours. The surprise doesn't even register with you because this kiss has been a long time coming, and you gladly return Jey's enthusiasm, but Jimmy's exclamation of, "Finally!", has you snapping to attention.
When you come up for air, panting and heaving, you take notice of the position you and Jey are in. Your hands are cradling his bearded face, one leg being held up on his hip with one of his hands and his other grasping at your ass. You're momentarily distracted by his own heaving chest, but you quickly snap out of it.
Hands pressing against Jey's chest, you push him away and lower your leg. Your eyes widen, especially when you hear the chuckles all around you, and you slap at his chest when he tries to crowd into your space again. "Not where there are cameras around! I am too invested in Jhea for the cameras to accidentally film you fooling around with Roman's newest addition."
Jey blinks at you. "You right, you right." He steps back, licking his bottom lip as he stares you up and down. His darkened gaze, however, proves that he's moments from losing control again. "But damn, girl. How you gonna go out there lookin' like a badass and not expect me to jump on that?"
You snort and before Jimmy or Roman can start joking, Solo steps up. "You little thief," he muses.
You're grateful for the distraction and laugh at Solo, bringing the Uso's younger brother into a hug. "Surprised?"
"Yes. You're surprisingly good at keeping secrets."
"Aw, don't feel bad, uce," Jimmy says as he slaps a hand on his brother's shoulder. "She told none of us."
"The only ones who knew were Rhea and tio Rey," you admit. "Tio Rey because he was there for my contract signing and Rhea because after spearing Liv Morgan last Monday, I teased her with a gesture that would clue her in."
"Well I'm glad you're here, even if Nia is going to kick your ass when she comes back."
You laugh. "Speaking of, where is Nia? I wanna check on her."
Before you can go check on Nia to make sure the bit with the table didn't aggravate her injury further, Solo takes it upon himself to introduce you to his cousins that made up his Bloodline faction. All three are very intimidating in the ring, but off-camera they are as lovable as Solo, Jey, Jimmy, and Roman. Then after introductions are had, you briefly meet with Nia where she jokes about you being prepared for her return because she was going to kick your little ass.
Laughing, you tell her you're looking forward to a proper match with her and that you hope her recovery goes smoothly. The production crew then gathers Roman and his Bloodline for pictures to be added to WWE's socials, introducing the reunion of the OG Bloodline, plus their newest addition.
You take pictures with your mask on and off, with the whole group, by yourself, and then with just Roman. You're excited, especially since the photographer makes you look badass and promises to email the pics to you so you can start adding some to your own socials.
Then when it's time to go to the hotel, Jimmy has to keep his twin in check every time he reaches for your hand. You're not even out of the arena yet when Jey turns handsy, and Roman has to push you in front of him to shield you from Jey's wandering hands, less the paparazzi and fans capture pictures of Jey cheating on Rhea.
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During the week, you manage to make time for both your jobs- fielding calls for your main source of income and hitting the gym with Roman and Jimmy. And when you're not letting your two brothers kick your ass in the ring in preparation for taking on any male wrestler that goes after your boys, Jey has you locked away in the hotel room you share to make up for lost time.
Roman and Jimmy take great pleasure in making you run back and forth across the ring, shoulder checking you and making you practice your falls. You even have to practice falling from higher heights, making Roman and Jimmy crack up when on one particular fall, you land wrong.
"Ow. My tits." Rolling over and rubbing at your chest, Roman spews the water he'd been drinking and Jimmy falls to one knee laughing. "Fuck off," you grumble.
As you get to your feet, Jimmy can't help but muse, "I'm sure Jey will kiss it better."
"Don't tell him anything!" You warn him. "I'm all for our sudden, enthusiastic sex life, but my vagina needs a break. Jesus, it hasn't even been a full week and-"
Roman starts coughing. "No! No. We are not talking about that."
Jimmy is dying of laughter and you smirk at the Tribal Chief. "Aw, come on, Roman. Aren't you curious about your cousin's dick game?"
"Hell no."
"Fine. If you want my silence, I demand chicken tenders and ranch."
Roman grimaces. "What is it with chicken tenders and ranch?"
You shrug. "It's good."
"If you say so. Now come on. Spar with Jimmy one more time and we'll call it a day."
Jimmy has a case of the giggles during your entire spar, so it's easy for you to get the drop on him a few times.
. .
. .
When Friday Night Smackdown rolls around again, you have to deal with Solo's Bloodline alongside Jimmy, and it's the first time they get to get their hands on you so you can show how resilient you are against the men.
Jimmy has a solo, no disqualification match against Tonga Loa, who will be accompanied by Tama Tonga. You will accompany Jimmy to the ring, keeping an eye on Tama whose mission is apparently to make you as uncomfortable as possible with suggestive comments and licking his lips as he looks you up and down.
(Live on Smackdown)
The match starts, and Jimmy and Tonga are pretty evenly matched. Both take hits that have you wincing and trying not to break character and laugh, especially when Tonga takes an accidental hit to the groin area and you hear him shout, "My balls!".
You're pounding the mat, urging Jimmy to get up when you notice Tama Tonga climbing onto the side of the ring. Jimmy rolls and pins a dazed Tonga Loa, but the ref is distracted by Tama. Annoyed, you walk in Tama's direction, and he takes notice. When he smirks and hops down, you take off at a run. And when Tama opens his arms as if volunteering to let you have the first hit, you surprise him by running faster, jumping, and then kicking him with both soles of your feet.
You've just dropkicked Tama Tonga, stunning the Samoan.
However, as you're getting up, spitting curses at Tama, you're grabbed by the back of your hair. You shout, scratching at the hand holding you, and then urgently try to get away when you realize it's Jacob Fatu that has a hold of you.
With a shout, Jacob picks you up sideways and drives your back into the steel steps that lead into the ring. You scream as he drops you, rolling onto your back as you reach behind you with one hand to hold the aching spot.
"Uce! You good, uce? Get up!" You groan at Jimmy's voice, slowly getting to your hands and knees.
Roman's theme goes off, the crowd goes wild, and Roman flies down the ramp to meet Jacob Fatu head on. It's a clash of two strong personas that everyone's been wanting, so you leave them be. In the ring, however, Tama Tonga and Tonga Loa are teaming up against Jimmy.
Anger building, you stand and roll into the ring under the bottom rope. When you get to your feet and Jimmy notices you standing there, he shoves Tama Tonga off of him and Tama stumbles towards you with his back facing you.
Hands bracing on his shoulders, you jump and place both knees against his back. Then falling backwards with Tama still in hand, your knees drive hard into his back as you both fall on the mat. Hurt, Tama Tonga rolls out of the ring. You stand up, hunched just a little because your back in on fire, and Tonga Loa gets into your face. You sneer at one another, but yours slowly morphs into a smirk.
"What the hell are you smilin' about?"
"Just the fact that you're focused on me when you should be focused on Jimmy."
Your gaze darts behind him, but before he can turn, you headbutt him. Dazed, Tonga turns right into a spear from your friend.
Jimmy takes the win and as he celebrates his victory around the ring, you drop to the mat and roll under the bottom rope, sitting on the ledge. Roman walks up, hair mussed from whatever fight he got into with Jacob.
"Need a hand?"
"Not in front of the camera, Reigns," you grit out with a smile. Roman's lips twitch as he still offers you a hand, a hand which you take and hold onto as you hop off the side of the ring. Jimmy is suddenly on your other side, clapping you on the back. "Fuck!" You shout, twisting out from beneath his hands.
Immediately, Jimmy's hands go up. "My bad, uce. My bad."
You glare at him as Roman does his best to mask his chortles, and then the three of you walk up the ramp.
(End of segment broadcast)
Off camera, Jacob rushes up to you, concern in his gaze. "I'm fine," you immediately tell him.
"Are you sure? That scream didn't sound like it was fake."
You grimace at him, and then tense when someone lifts the back of your shirt. "Shit. You're bleeding."
"What?" You turn around just in time for Roman to call for a medic. "Huh. I must have caught the edge of the stairs." When you face Jacob again, you can't help but chuckle. "Jacob, it's fine! Promise."
He winces. "I know. I just- I hate that I actually hurt you."
"It's all part of the job, buddy."
When the medics come and lead you to a room, you're laid out on your front. They clean and assess the apparent two-inch gash but conclude that it doesn't need stitches. As they reclean it and bandage it up for you, they tell you that you'll be sore for the next few days and that it's best to take it easy so the wound can close. You huff, but tell them you'll speak with Paul to see what he says.
Surprisingly, Paul agrees. He tells you to rest up and that while you can accompany your faction to the ring next week, he doesn't want you in the middle of the action.
And when you get back to the hotel, you're met with a worried Jey and have to deal with his mother hen tendencies.
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Talking trash is not as fun if you can't throw down with your faction. But you keep to the rules laid out for you and stand back as Solo and Roman continue their feud.
On Raw, Judgement Day and the Terror Twins feud is still going just as strong. You've been watching, growing annoyed when one week Damian and Rhea seem like this overpowered duo, only for them to get their asses kicked the following week by the entire faction they once belonged to. It amps up until Finn suggests a match- Finn, Dom, and Liv versus Damian, Jey, and Rhea. The fans seem to love the idea, so the match is made for the following Monday.
However, behind the scenes when Damian, Rhea, and Jey are talking, Judgement Day attacks them out of the blue. You're not sure what goes wrong, but something seriously happens to Rhea's knee. You're not sure how severe it is until Paul calls you, asking if you can make an appearance as Damian and Jey's third. You agree.
. .
. .
"There is so much bad blood here, that I want it to seem as unscripted as possible," Paul tells you Wednesday night when he calls a meeting between all the wrestlers involved. "The fans will go wild."
"So, there's no script for the match?" Dominik asks. "How do we know who will win and when to make the pin?"
Paul now smiles. "It's gonna be the first match of the night and you'll fight until you're exhausted. I want you guys to take it easy on each other, but the women," he says, glancing between you and Liv, "I want you feral. I want you spitting mad. Just don't seriously injure one another. The crowd seems to love when the women go off on each other."
Glancing deviously at Liv, the two of you laugh when all the other men swear at the matching smirks you're now sporting. "Free reign to kick ass?"
"Hell yes," Liv muses.
"I just want you to know right now that whatever is said or done out there on camera, it's not personal."
"I want your best, YN. Bring it."
"I don't know whether to laugh or cry," Dominik says. When everyone glances at him, he says, "I've seen YN fight, truly fight, before my dad got her disciplined in the ring. If she doesn't hold back, it's gonna be a fight to be remembered."
"That's what I'm hoping for. Especially since it'll be YN's first official match. This will set the tone for her place in Roman's faction."
After a few more details are hashed out, everyone goes their separate ways.
"You sure you're ready for this?" Jey asks.
"Yes. I've been in fights before, babe. It's nothing I can't handle."
"Man, Rhea's gonna be so jealous." Damian chuckles. "We're all taught to hold back, pull our punches. And here Paul is giving you permission to seriously mess each other up."
"It's gonna be fun, but I swear you boys better take this win."
"Oh, we will," Jey muses.
When you get to the hotel, Damian walks off to find Rhea, and you and Jey head to Roman's room. He wants to know what's going on and when you tell him, he's surprised.
"You better kick some major ass, girl."
"Don't worry, I will."
"I want you in the ring by eight tomorrow morning."
"Goddammit, Reigns."
Jey laughs and Roman turns to him. "I don't know why you're laughing. You need to be there too. In fact, call Priest and tell him to meet us in the morning. I'm not going to let the two of you make the Bloodline's She-Wolf look incompetent in the ring."
Jey gapes before sighing and giving into the inevitable. Pulling out his phone, Jey texts Damian what Roman is demanding. And just when you think you can jump on the bed and relax, Roman gets down to business and starts asking questions about what you have planned for the match.
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(Live on Raw)
Judgement Day takes the ring, the arena booing them as they're all smug smiles and laughter. They've just finished the replay of Judgement Day attacking Damian and Rhea last week, and then Rhea confessing to Damian and Jey in the back earlier that night that there's no way she can fight in tonight's match.
"So, you see," Liv laughs on the mic, "there will be no match tonight. Damian and Jey might have some new friends backstage, but they have no females to fill in for that pathetic Rhea Ripley."
As soon as the words leave her mouth, blue lights start flashing.
USO!
Jey walks out with Damian by his side and Rhea hobbling on crutches on his other side. Damian is the most heated, pacing back and forth as Jey amps up the crowd for a few seconds. As the music cuts out, Damian raises the mic to his mouth and says, "Güera, do everyone a favor and shut up." The crowd cheers and laughs. "Honestly, I don't know how Dom deals with your ass. Your voice is annoying as hell."
In the ring, Liv gapes and shoves at Dominik before pointing at Damian and demanding Dominik to defend her.
"You're honestly so lucky that Rhea can't fight tonight. So lucky."
"But that luck just ran out, white girl. The match is still on," Jey says, producing his own mic as the crowd cheers. "Because you right about us not havin' female friends here. But just because we have no female connections here, doesn't mean we don't have any female connections.. on Smackdown."
The crowd cheers even louder, especially when in the ring Dominik is the first to make the connection as he freezes in shock. And then, he rips the mic from Liv's hand. "No. You're lying! My prima wouldn't do that to me. We don't see eye to eye, but she would never-"
Roman's theme blares and if the crowd was loud earlier, they're deafening now.
The Tribal Chief walks out, the red Ula Fala draped around his neck. Flanking him are you and Jimmy, and behind you is Paul Heyman. You're sporting your new mask, the black mask having been painted with markings that match the tribal symbols from Roman, Jimmy, and Jey's tattoos.
"Danngggg," Jey muses as he steps up to your side, glancing at you and then staring at Liv down in the ring. "Betchu really wishing you were taking on Rhea now, huh. Because I can promise you, the Bloodline's She-Wolf is very much all bite."
"The She-Wolf?" Liv barks out a laugh before sneering. "I'm not afraid of some little bitch."
The crowd ooh's and a camera man kneels in front of you, catching your reaction. Slowly but surely, you reach up and remove your mask. Smirking, you lean into the mic that Jey holds out for you. "You will be."
As you turn towards Roman, he holds his hand out for your mask. You hand it off to him and then Jey's theme starts again. Together, you, Damian, and Jey stride down to the ring with you in the middle. Behind you, Jimmy, Roman, Rhea, and Paul Heyman follow.
Before you can stomp up the steel stairs, you feel a pat on your butt. You freeze as the fans behind you laugh and whoop, and glare at the culprit over your shoulder. "That's not very brotherly, Roman," you hiss.
He smirks. "Show 'em your teeth, She-Wolf."
You nod, jaw clenching, and then stomp up the stairs and into the ring behind Jey and Damian. Carlito and JD roll out of the ring, weary of Jimmy, Roman, and Rhea spreading out along the sidelines. Liv and Finn are glaring at the three of you, but Dominik looks like he wants to call the match off.
The bell rings, and Damian takes one step in their direction just as Dominik and Finn drop and roll out of the ring. Liv turns to seethe at them, but then turns back around. "Fine. I'll win this match myself."
Jey and Damian laugh, stepping back to step outside the ring. You step forward, smirking. "We'll see, Güerita. We'll see."
Liv screams and rushes you, but you very easily block her punch. You deliver three punches of your own, driving her into a corner post. Then switching it up, you grab onto the middle ropes and drive your shoulder into Liv's abdomen over and over.
"Stop it, prima! That's enough!"
Dominik's words garner your attention and you turn towards him. "That's enough? That's enough!?" You shout at him. "It's not nearly enough. Cowards don't get mercy."
You realize too late he was a distraction and Liv takes the upper hand. She grabs you by the hair and throws you backwards so you slam your back on the mat. Then standing over you, she delivers kick after kick until you grab her by the ankle and roll her up into a pin. Unsurprisingly, she kicks out and you stand up, grinning.
As you walk backwards, you hold a hand up and let someone tag in. It's Jey. As Jey enters the ring, Liv tags in Finn.
Finn and Jey go toe to toe, evenly matched. Finn gets the upper hand right away, but you and Damian championing for Jey reinvigorates him. When Finn, the coward, realizes he's losing the upper hand, he tags in Dominik. Dominik is too confident as he knocks Jey around, but the moment Damian is tapped in… he's nothing but a scared little boy.
Damian tosses Dominik around the ring like a rag doll that it's laughable. Carlito and JD are too close to the ring, too close to Damian, so you start to climb off the ring as inconspicuously as you can. Roman and Jimmy watch you, not interfering as you watch Liv climb off the side of the ring. When Finn helps Dominik tag team Damian as the ref gets distracted by JD, and Damian then gets up on his knees with his upper body leaning between the ropes, Liv jumps up and grabs him by the back of the head to choke him out on the rope.
Rhea sees everything go down and she chases Liv with her crutch. Liv runs around the ring, laughing over her shoulder, and giving you the perfect opportunity to catch her. Instead of spearing her, however, you pick her up by the back of her thighs and then slam her back onto the announcer's table.
Climbing on top of Liv, you rain down punch after punch. She grabs one of the small monitors on the table and hits you upside the head with it, and you roll off of her. Briefly dazed, you stumble off and right into Carlito's chest. He tries to intimidate you, but you're distracted by the liquid falling into your eyes.
Reaching up, you swipe where you feel the wetness and your hand comes away red. Fuck. You're bleeding from the head.
Carlito gets spun around by Jimmy who starts attacking him, and before you can turn there's a pair of arms wrapping around your abdomen from behind. Liv bear hugs your waist and throws you over her head, into the barricade.
THIS IS AWESOME, the crowd chants over and over.
Trying to catch your breath, Liv then stands and picks you up, tossing you into the ring. It seems Jey and Damian weren't faring as well as you hoped.
You and Liv are now the eligible wrestlers, the two of you slapping, punching, and kicking until you're out of breath. The side of your face is covered in blood, but you're not tapping out. Not today.
The cheers from your faction, your friends, and the fans get your adrenaline going once more. You start slapping and punching back harder. And then as you have her in the perfect position to superkick her, Dominik rushes between the two of you.
"Don't do it!"
You freeze, standing on one leg with the other in the air, bent as you stare at your cousin. "Get out of my way, Dom!"
"No! That's enough."
"It's enough? Now it's enough when I'm about to kick in the teeth of your precious güerita?"
Dominik goes quiet and then he slowly, cruelly smirks. "Fooled you."
"What?"
There's a sudden, sharp pain to the knee of the leg you'd been standing on. It seems Liv got enough wind to sneak around and take you out by the knee.
You go down, screaming, and Liv takes the opportunity to start kicking at your injured knee. Dominik stands over you, laughing, but then gets taken out with a spear by Jey. Then just as Finn goes to fight off Jey, Damian steps in and kicks him off the side of the ring.
Having enough, Damian turns and grasps Liv by the back of the neck and tosses her outside the ring where Carlito and JD readily catch her. "Not today, sucia."
Spitting mad at your cousin for distracting you and the now throbbing pain in your knee, you get up, hopping on your one good leg. "Really, primo? You're gonna let that little hoodrat do me dirty?"
Rolling onto his back, Dominik holds his hands up in surrender. "Listen, it's not- I didn't-"
"Save it." You spit on the mat, closest to his head. Turning, you meet Damian's gaze while pointing down at your cousin. "Put his ass on the mat. Chokeslam that cabrón!"
"It'll be my genuine pleasure, She-Wolf." Damian roars as he strips off the top half of his wrestling suit, then bends down to pick up Dominik.
Dominik tries to get away, but there's no use and Damian chokeslams him brutally. As he groans flat on his back, you push past the pain in your knee and start climbing the corner post. Once at the top rope, you stare down at your cousin who stares up with wide eyes.
Flipping Dominik off, you leap, and frog splash your own cousin before rolling over and getting back to your feet. Damian falls on top of Dominik for the pin and at the count of two, Liv rushes in. But before she can throw herself on the men to break the pin, you surprise her with a spear.
The bell rings and you remain crouched, trying to catch your breath.
Jey and Damian turn around in the ring, offering you hugs for a job well done. Even Rhea rolls into the ring, fist bumping you for taking the win. And when Damian notices you are favoring one leg over the other, he goes to support most of your weight you as Jey excitedly yeets with the crowd.
Jey's smile falters when he notices Damian supporting you and he walks up to you. He grabs you by the chin, tilting your face a certain way to find where you're bleeding from.
"M'fine." You pull your face from your grasp.
"You got a cut by the temple."
"Yeah." Huffing a laugh, you flash him a grin. "Liv caught me with a monitor. That bitch."
Jimmy suddenly jostles his brother, and you turn away, only to bump into Roman. As the others are celebrating the win, you're wincing up at your Tribal Chief.
"Need a medic?" His voice rumbles.
"Nah." You blink and then sway on the spot. "Maybe," you then amend. "And then when I'm all patched up, I want food. I'm surprisingly starving."
"Chicken tenders and ranch?"
"You know it."
Roman grins down at you before lifting your arm and draping it around his neck, helping you walk to the ropes. You crouch down and slide beneath them, surprisingly finding Damian already outside the ring and helping you hop down. You thank him, but then Roman is there and lifting you off your feet in a bridal carry.
As the crowd cheers, you groan and wrap your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder. "I hate you. They're gonna start shipping us if you're not careful."
Roman merely smirks and continues to walk you backstage.
(End of segment broadcast.)
Behind the curtain and off camera, you're congratulated by everyone who'd been watching. Those in the women's division are stoked about how you and Liv put it all on the line like you did. Then after the congratulations are over, Roman and Jey escort you to the medic where the small cut by your temple is cleaned and patched up with a butterfly bandage.
There's a brief segment you all shoot, a victory dinner of sorts where it's nothing but chicken tenders, fries, and ranch. Damian, Rhea, and Jey take great pleasure in joking about Dom and chicken tendies while you, Jimmy, and Roman watch from the other side of the table. It's an odd dynamic with the goofiness on one side and the stoic seriousness on the other. But it isn't until Jimmy reaches for something on your plate that you snap out of watching everyone across the table, your hand snapping out and slapping his hand away.
The slap garners everyone's attention, Jey snorting at his twin holding his hand to his chest with a look of betrayal on his face.
Both Damian and Rhea chuckle.
"Never touch the tendies," she muses.
"Yeah," Damian rumbles. "That family has a weird thing about food."
You turn to glare at Damian, only to end up rolling your eyes. "Do not."
"Do too." Rhea smirks. Suddenly, the amusement fades as she says, "You know, I had my doubts about you when Jey said you could fill in. Family versus family is messy and you almost proved me right when you refused to kick Dom's teeth in." Remembering the betrayal makes you tense and Roman drapes an arm around the back of your shoulders. "But when you had Damian chokeslam him before you frog splashed him." She groans, smiling. "God, that was so good to watch."
Huffing a laugh, you nod. "If you ever need assistance with my primo, I'm only a phone call away." Smile fading, you also add. "And if you need a hand with that pinche puta, call me. I owe her one," you say while gesturing to the bandage at your temple.
Rhea smiles evilly and they cut the segment.
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The storyline with Bloodline vs. Bloodline ended up exploding and coming to an end when Nia made her grand return, interrupting your match against Tiffany Stratton. When Nia had gotten her hands on you, Tiffany knew what to do and set up a table just outside the ring. Nia tossed you out of the ring after beating down on you, and before Jimmy or Roman could interfere, she put you through a table as payback.
And that- that was not acceptable to the Tribal Chief.
Roman Reigns had been a force to be reckoned with before there was ever a female he felt protective over, so after seeing you lying nearly unconscious in the wreckage of a table, it sent him off the deep end. For Bad Blood, Roman wanted Bloodline vs. Bloodline, and he got it.
But needless to say, Solo and his Bloodline was no match for the wrath that Roman unleashed. Even Jimmy and Jey were surprised, but the match ended and Roman made everyone acknowledge him.
Having then been given some time off so the industry can roll out other storylines, you gladly take the time to fly back home. You and Jey are very much still in the honeymoon phase of your relationship, so he flies out to his own apartment to pack a few bags before flying out back to you.
Being alone with Jey in your house is a completely different experience than when it was him and the others. This time around, while still fun, there's also a sense of domesticity that should scare you. Instead, it brings you a feeling of happiness and rightness, and you can tell Jey feels the exact same way when he easily makes himself at home in your space.
You're grateful for the time off, especially since your birthday falls during your break. But since you've never made a big deal out of your birthdays, you don't mention it to Jey. The only reason he finds out is because Dominik sneaks into your house early the morning of, along with a couple of your friends.
You're sleeping peacefully when you feel something tickle your nose and you continuously swat at it until muffled laughter pulls you fully into wakefulness. When your eyes blink open, Dominik is crouched on your free side.
"Happy birthday, prima."
"Go away, Dom."
As you move to turn over and hide away against Jey's slumbering form, you spot Rhea standing atop your bed with a party hat on her head and a party horn in her mouth. "Happy birthday!" She shouts, now bouncing and tooting the horn in her mouth.
Jey jerks away, confused as hell, and when your gaze darts to the towering form at the end of your bed, your eyes narrow on a smirking Damian. "Priest?"
"Happy birthday, hermana." From behind his back, Damian produces a large confetti popper and pops it over you.
Multi-colored confetti rain down on you and you groan as you fall against the mattress. "I hate you guys. I love you, but I hate you. Get out."
"What is going on?" Jey finally asks. As you try to pull the blanket up and over your head, Dominik yanks it away.
"It's YN's birthday. Didn't you know?"
"Dom," you whine. "You know I don't celebrate. Why would I tell anyone?"
"It's your birthday?" When you meet Jey's gaze, he looks hurt. "You should have said something."
"No, babe. No," you say. As you cuddle up to him, you shake your head. "I honestly don't celebrate. I don't like dressing up for dinner reservations or going to places where they sing happy birthday to you and everyone watches in awkward silence. I just.." you trail off, sighing tiredly and knowing full well these pushy individuals are going to make you do something for your day. "If I had to choose the perfect way to spend my birthday, it's laid up in my own house while wearing the comfiest clothes I own with a smorgasbord of food in front of me and marathoning my favorite show or movies."
"Say less," Damian muses. "We're doing exactly that then."
Rhea starts excitedly bouncing at the end of your bed. "Now get up. I'm taking you out for manis and pedis, and to get the color in your hair retouched."
"Rhea," you groan.
"Nope. Up."
"Jey?" You glance at your boyfriend, hoping he'd be of some help. You're not that lucky.
"Up." He slowly grins. "But first, a shower." You roll back over with another groan, trying to burrow into your bed, only for Jey to slap you on the ass. "Get up. We're gonna shower, you're gonna go out with Rhea for a girl's day, and all the while we're gonna get shit done here."
"Fine." Very reluctantly, you start to get up. Rhea cheers, but then everyone with the exception of Jey vacates the upper level of your house.
As you and Jey both collect clothes, you disappear into the bathroom together.
He gets the water going, the bathroom steaming up just how you like it. When Jey turns around, before he can strip out of his briefs, you embrace him in a tight hug. With your arms around his waist and forehead pressing against his shoulder, you say, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."
"Don't even worry 'bout it, baby girl." His arms wrap around you in return. "Some people like big and flashy, some people don't. And can I just say I'm actually pretty relieved you just wanna chill?"
You huff a laugh. "I figured you would be. Me and you are the same when it comes to downtime."
"Mhm. But before I send you off with Rhea…" Jey pulls away to mess with his phone he'd brought into the bathroom with him, along with a bluetooth speaker. "We're gonna start your birthday how it should have been started had I known we was gonna be celebrating you."
You frown at his back, brow furrowed. But then the familiar tune of a song resonates around the bathroom, and you can't help but bark out a laugh. Birthday Sex fills the air you readily strip out of your tank top and shorts when he turns around. "You're determined to traumatize our friends, aren't you?"
"They'll only be traumatized if you can't keep quiet."
"Birthday Sex is blaring. I think they know what's about to go down."
Jey slowly smirks and pushes down his briefs. "Only the best for my girl."
You laugh as Jey lunges for you, kissing you as he picks you up and walks you into the shower, under the heated spray. He then proceeds to start your birthday off the right way with a couple of orgasms before sending you on your way.
. .
. .
Rhea ends up taking you out for brunch before taking you to get your undercut touched up and redyeing the red in your hair, then out for mani/pedis. Through it all, she takes pics and videos. You and her serenade each other during brunch with some Justin Bieber song that had been playing over the speakers, but your favorite probably has to be when you're walking to her car after your hair is all done up and she's blaring We Like to Party by Vengaboys. You start dancing in the middle of the parking lot as she records you, laughing. With those videos in her arsenal, she then surprises you and her fans with a birthday post dedicated to her real-life bestie and that she'd forever be grateful to Dom for introducing the two of you.
When you finally get home, it's just a little after five in the evening. The boys had apparently been busy while you were gone, putting up a birthday banner, streamers, and placing balloon clusters all around the place. Your kitchen island is filled with all sorts of birthday treats and you can't help but laugh when you see it.
"Happy birthday!" Damian, Jey, and Dominik cheer when they see you.
You shake your head, accepting hugs, and then waving off Dominik and Damian when they mention needing to leave to go get the food they'd ordered. Walking up to Jey, you kiss him as he smiles, uncaring that Rhea has her phone pointed at the two of you.
Jey rubs a thumb across the undercut on the side of your head, then leaning in to kiss your cheek. "Have fun with Rhea?"
"Of course, but I missed you."
"Of course you did." He kisses you again before patting your butt. "Now go get changed. There's some stuff laid out on the bed for you."
"Yes, sir." Jey freezes and you wink, laughing as his gaze turns heated before you rush out of the kitchen.
"You two are disgustingly adorable," Rhea muses.
Jey snaps out of his lustful thoughts, pointing at Rhea and the phone in her hand. "Send me any and all pics that you have of me and YN. I'm gonna make a birthday post later."
"You finally gonna let the world know that Jey Uso is a taken man?" She slowly smiles.
"Yeah. I know the industry likes us to keep personal relationships off our socials, but that's my girl, 'ya know? I'm not tryin' to hide her."
"Good. Text the others, especially Jimmy and Roman. I know for a fact they have some good ones of the two of you."
"Good idea, uce."
Upstairs, you're staring at the outfit Jey had left out for you- a white crop top with a pair of gray sweats that say Uso on the ass, and a pink and silver birthday sash. You laugh and get dressed, careful not to mess up your hair since it's styled quite nicely. You even add a light layer of makeup so you don't look like death has warmed over in any inevitable photos, and then put on socks before heading downstairs.
"Pictures!" Rhea whoops when she sees you. "And you can't say no."
Laughing, you and Rhea take pics in front of all your birthday treats before she switches out with Jey, and you take even more pictures with him. Jey then proceeds to pull a cake out from the refrigerator and hand it to you.
"It's not much since it was all last minute," he says, "but I hope you like it."
It's a round, two-tier cake done up in various shades of purple with a marble effect. There are icing flowers along the bottom and edible pearls around the top tier with Happy Birthday, YN written in cursive on top. You smile down at it before glancing up at Jey. "It's perfect." He kisses you over the cake and then you pose with the cake as Rhea instructs you.
When Dominik and Damian eventually get back with the food, they set everything out on your coffee table while you queue up Criminal Minds on your TV.
Amidst the good food, defending that the Criminal Minds episodes with Hotch were better than those without, and some much-needed laughter, you're grateful for where you're currently at in life.
You had kept to yourself for most of your life, never getting too close to anyone. But then Dominik swooped in with these particular individuals who needed a place to stay.. and suddenly you wanted a life you never thought you'd ever have. You got the wrestling job, the man of your dreams, and friends who had quickly become family.
Then when the boys start clearing away the leftover food and instructing you to stay put, you cuddle up next to Rhea and take the moment to check the notifications on your phone. You have texts from Roman, Jimmy, Solo, Liv, and Nia that all wish you the happiest of days. You thank each of them personally and then check your social notifications. Apparently, Rhea's post blew up. The fans are all for the friendship between the two of you, and there are many questions about when Mami and the She-Wolf of the Bloodline will meet in the ring.
To tease the fans, you and Rhea snap two quick selfies- one of you with your heads tilted towards one another, cheesin' for the camera, and another with you kissing her cheek. You post them, thanking her for the much-needed girl's day. Then afterwards, you check out Roman and Jimmy's post that they had also dedicated to you- each Samoan posting candids they'd taken of you, and pics that others had taken when they caught you with them as the She-Wolf or during training as you looked up to Roman and Jimmy as they walked you through some moves they wanted you to try out. But the thing that really gets you are their captions where they both mention you as the little sister they'd always wanted and are happy to finally have.
As you're thanking them for their heartfelt words, a notification pops up about Jey tagging you in a new post. Without looking at him, you open his post and your emotions are quick to well up. The first picture is of you holding your birthday cake, nose scrunched up as you laugh. The second is one of you and Jey goofing off in your pool, the third is of you and him from Smackdown with your mask on, the fourth is of you goofing off with Solo, the fifth is one of you sleeping on the plane, the sixth is of Roman giving you a piggyback ride, but it's the seventh and eighth ones that make your breath hitch.
For the world to see, Jey posted a pic of you and him cuddling on your couch, followed by another one of you kissing.
@JeyUso_WWE: Speaking as Jey Uso, the man (not the wrestler), I'd like to take a moment to celebrate this wonderful woman. I don't like gettin' too personal on here, but these past several months have been such a whirlwind of work and the good fortune of finally findin' the girl of my dreams that I just needed to share it with the world. enterusename came into my life when I least expected it, but I am so blessed to have her by my side, doin' what we love and surroundin' ourselves with friends and family who just get us. Happy birthday, baby. Though I didn't find out it was your birthday until @DirtyDom_WWE, @DamianPriest_WWE, and @RheaRipley_WWE broke in and woke us up by jumpin' on the bed and poppin' a confetti popper over us, I hope you had a great day. Now will you please stop readin' this and get yo ass in this kitchen so we can cut the cake?
Laughing, you quickly wipe at the tears that had gathered in the corner of your eyes, like Jey's post, and type out a quick reply.
@enterusername: Te amo, bebe.
As you toss your phone aside, you get up, followed by Rhea, and enter the kitchen. You immediately hug Jey, kissing him. "Love you too, baby." You smile against his mouth, heart swelling at the affection you have for this man. "But seriously, can we cut this cake?"
Author's Note: I am so sorry for the abrupt ending! I rambled and I didn't know where to cut it off lmao.
Spanish translations: Güera/Güerita - White girl (slang) Prima - Female cousin Sucia - Dirty girl (can be slang to also mean offense to someone) Cabrón - Bastard/Asshole (you get the idea lol) Pinche puta - Fucking bitch (slang) Hermana - Sister. Te amo, bebe - I love you, baby.
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jaeyums · 10 months
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Just One More (Part 11)
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Pairings - Fratboy!Haechan x reader (lowkey x dreamies)
Word Count - 3k
Content Warning - smut (obvi), angst, slight corruption kink, dacryphilia, oral (f receiving). fingering, drinking, loss of virginity, Fratboy! Haechan (kinda), Toxic!Haechan, mentions of drowning (what??) pls Imk if I missed anything
Summary - You curse your new neighbours for partying what feels like every night, the booming bass making it impossible to sleep. Fed up, you finally ask them to turn it down, but when you're forced to make a seemingly harmless deal, things spiral faster than you ever could've imagined.
A/N - part two yippeee :3 sorry it was so late loll
previous | next
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You slowly open your eyes, immediately closing them again in pain as your head throbs.
“Holy fuck.”
Is all you’re able to say, as you try again to open your eyes, your vision slightly blurry. You reach for where your water bottle sits on your nightstand, only to find an empty space.
You continue to feel around the nightstand only for your eyes to fully adjust, and for you to realize this night stand is black rather than the off white colour you’re used to.
This shock wakes you up fully in a matter of seconds, and you look around an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar bed.
“Holy fuck.”
You repeat, the reality of your situation setting in. After a moment of processing, you quickly toss away to sheets, and sigh in relief as you see that all your clothes from the previous night are still on.
You check the other side of the bed hesitantly, patting on a puffy part of the blanket, only for it to sink down upon your touch.
Saying a small thank you to the universe, you climb out of the bed, and walk towards the door. You wrap your hands around the handle and push.
It doesn’t budge.
You twist and push again, still nothing. You try again with your whole body weight pressing against the door, only to here a groan come from the other side.
“Fuck, give me a second, would ya.”
A grumpy voice can be heard through the door.
“Haechan?”
You ask tentatively. Opening the door with ease after hearing a body shuffle out of the way.
“In the flesh.”
He says leaning against the other side of the hallway.
“Why did you sleep outside?”
“I knew you’d end up in my bed eventually , but I excepted me to be joining you. So I think the better question is why did you sleep inside, inside my room. ”
You tilt your head, that is a good question actually. You try to think back to last night, only for the sinking realization that you can’t remember much past the game of truth or dare.
“Oh god, what happened last night.”
Your voice slightly panicked. So many different scenarios start flipping through your head, like a disturbing film reel.
He just laughs looking entertained and surprisingly handsome for someone who slept on the floor all night.
“Does this mean you don’t remember our deal? Tsk tsk, I’m disappointed. No worries though, I remember the deal, so it’s no issue.”
“You made a deal with me while I was blacked out? You totally took advantage of me.”
He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head to meet your gaze.
“If I actually wanted to take advantage of you, I could’ve. You were a mess.”
His words sting, a darkness in his eyes almost consuming you. Though, when he sees your face drop even more, he sighs, rolling his eyes in annoyance and starts to explain.
“Not that long after truth or dare you locked yourself in here and told me to guard the door ‘with my life’.”
Now you look more confused than upset.
“Why would I do that?”
You wonder aloud.
“If I had to guess, it might’ve been from the fact that everyone here wanted to talk to you. Jaemin, Jeno, Chenle, Mark. You won’t alone for more than a second before someone wanted to steal you away.”
Something hangs between the lines as he speaks, a negative emotion your hungover state can’t place it’s finger on.
“Okay…so what was the deal?”
You’re almost scared to ask.
“That you’ll come to my next party.”
He smiles widely, he finds himself hilarious.
“Are you serious.”
“Dead, but the next one isn’t here, it’s at my parents’ house. They’re gone for the weekend and the pool there is sick.”
“A pool party?”
He nods, pushing himself off the wall to move closer to you.
“Now how about you scamper on home. You’ve had a long night.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The next day while on facetime with your friend, you decide to tell her about the party. She’s half listening while doing her makeup, but when you mention Haechan she freezes.
“Wait did you say Haechan? Like Lee Haechan? Tall? Black hair? Sarcastic? Sexy?”
“Uh yeah? Why?”
You ask confused, but by the expression on her face, your know whatever your friend is about to say is bad news.
“Y/n he is a known fuckboy. Like he’s in a frat for godsake. You need to be careful around him, I’m serious.”
You roll your eyes annoyed.
He’s Mr. pump and dump, smash and dash, ejaculate and evacu-“
“okay okay I get it, thank you,”
You cut her off, getting the message loud and clear.
“I wasn’t planning on getting with him, don’t worry. He couldn’t get close even if he tried.”
“Didn’t you just say you blacked out and slept in his bed.”
“Okay shut up, it won’t happen again.”
She nods, looking unconvinced. You two continue to chat until you get another call, this time from an unsaved number.
“Wait I’m getting a call, gimme a sec.”
You answer the call bringing your phone to your ear.
“Hello? This is y/n right?”
“Uh yes, speaking?”
“It’s me, don’t get too excited.”
You sigh, his familiar voice teasingly heard through the phone.
“How did you get my number, Haechan.”
“You gave it to me when you were drunk.”
“No I didn’t.”
There’s a long pause.
“…I got it off Jisung’s phone.”
That definitely makes more sense, you know you were black out, but there was no chance you would have given Haechan your number.
“I’m just calling to make sure you’re still coming to the party tonight? I’m already at the place getting stuff ready, it’s gonna be lit.”
“Do I have to go?”
You whine, hoping he’ll take some sympathy on you from how tired you sound.
“Yup! See you then.”
You hear a long tone, signalling he’s hung up. Fine, you’ll go to his pool party, but he never said anything about actually swimming. You do enough of that at work anyways.
Calling back your friend, you quickly update her on who called and what he said. She gave you a worried look, warning you again to be careful.
With the closet doors swung open, you start shifting through your clothes trying to pick an outfit. You get an idea, turning back to your phone.
“Wait, why don’t you just come with me? That way you can keep an eye on this whole Haechan thing and we can have fun for once.”
“Can’t I have an opening shift tomorrow.”
You groan in response, turning back to your closet in defeat.
“Whatever I didn’t even want you to go anyways.”
You tease.
The two of you continue to joke around, her giving you advice on what to wear and you modelling your options.
You end up settling on short denim shorts, paired with a white baby tee. With everything said and done, you tell her good bye before grabbing your keys and heading out to the party
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The house is bigger than you ever would’ve imagined and it is jumping. This party was massive, especially compared to his previous party. People had gathered all over the property, some on the front lawn, some on a balcony up above you head.
You shift your weight between your feet, suddenly feeling nervous. Once again you feel the need to find Haechan, rationalizing your thoughts by saying it’s only to ensure he knows you held up your side of the deal. You were an hour late so he’s probably wondering where you are, right?
You’re barely two steps into the house when you hear someone call your name.
“Y/n! Get your ass over here, love.”
Jeno stands next to Chenle and Mark, the three of them already holding red solo cups.
“Go grab a drink.”
Jeno gestures with his head towards where the kitchen must be located. You shake your head with an awkward smile.
“I can’t drink, and I’m serious this time. I drove here.”
The boys look a little disappointed but nod in understanding. They continue to talk amongst each other, but you can’t listen, your eyes scanning the crowd nonstop.
Mark interrupts your search with a smirk.
“Looking for someone special?”
He teases, but you can tell he already knows who your dying to see.
“He’s outside, near the pool.”
With that you say goodbye, telling them you’ll be back in a bit, and head off towards the backyard.
The music is just as loud outside as it is inside, your ears still not fully adjusted. The pool itself is quite big as well, although there are very few people actually swimming. Most of them just sitting along the edge talking, only dipping there feet in.
The familiar smell of chlorine tickles your nose and you do a quick scan of the pool, simply out of habit when you notice a boy bobbing a bit in what you assume to be the deep end.
“Oh god please don’t actually be drowning.”
You whisper to yourself, your eyes still locked onto him, he was clearly struggling but you were having a hard time figuring out if it was just a prank or if he was really sinking.
Suddenly his head dips bellow the surface and doesn’t return, and you spring into action, running to the edge closest to him and diving in.
Under the water you can see him, still struggling, but his eyes slowly closing. You hook your arms around his, securing him in your grasp, and pinching his nose with your other hand. You kick back to the surface, your lungs starting to burn.
Returning to the surface, you see a couple boys waiting at the edge, you shout instructions to them as you tow the boy in their direction.
Ordering them on how to lift him out, you plunge back into the water, sitting the boy on your shoulder. You tap the deck three times, signalling to the boys to pull him up, and you push him upwards as hard as you can.
They drag him away from the pool and you climb out quickly, following them. You’re fully locked in, having done this a hundred times.
Sitting next to him as he coughs, you run through your typical checklist. He turns out to be relatively fine, just a stupid victim of drinking and swimming, something that should never mix.
As you continue to talk to him, you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn to see Haechan staring at you with such intensity you almost flinch.
“I saw everything, are you okay?”
“Of course, I mean it’s always a little scary but I’m fine. I’m more worried about him.”
“He’s fine, just an idiot. Here, let’s get you dried off.”
You now remember that you’re not actually wearing your guarding uniform. Looking down, you realize your white shirt has become completely see through, sticking to your body, your red bra on full display.
“Yeah okay, thank you.”
With that he grabs your hand and leads you through the party to his bedroom upstairs, weaving between people in crowded places.
“This is my room, head inside. I’ll be right back.”
You open the door hesitantly, turning back for his reassurance, but he has already disappeared. You walk inside to see his room is surprisingly neat. It’s pretty big too, with posters lining his walls, he even has a balcony that overlooks the backyard.
You notice a mirror attached to his closet and walk over to see how much of a mess you look right now. Your mascara is ruined, running down your face like you just watched the saddest movie ever. You hair is soaked, it looks almost intentionally slicked back, except for a stray strand or two.
While fussing with it, you hear the door open, but you pay Haechan no mind as he enters, closing the door behind him. You’re much too occupied fixing your hair.
He comes behind you, brining his head next to yours, staring at your reflection with darkened eyes.
“You look so pretty.”
He whispers, bringing his hand around the opposite side of your head to smudge some of the black staining your cheeks.
“What I wouldn’t give to make your mascara run like this”.
You feel your face heat up, your stomach doing a flip from to his words and touch. You swat his hand away, turning your face.
“Shut up, Haechan.”
He just smirks, and hands you a folded towel. You hastily take it and walk over to his connected bathroom. You lock the door behind you and undress.
The shower itself is heavenly. The water on your skin had became cold, so the heat of the water pouring down felt amazing. You wash your hair and do your best to rid your face of the racoonish look it’s taken.
You finally finish, wrapping the towel just below your shoulders once you’re dry. You reach for your clothes before realizing they’re still soaked. It had completely slipped your mind that you’d need new clothes.
You tentatively open the door, peaking your head around the room. You see Haechan laying on his bed, scrolling on his phone absentmindedly. You call out to him, and he looks up, his eyes instantly devouring you.
“I uh, could I borrow some clothes? Mine are still wet.”
He doesn’t move for a moment, still taking you in. Finally, he gets up, and walks over to his closet.
“Lemme see what I have, I might have some old sweatpants that might fit.”
He ends up picking black sweat pants and a matching black long sleeve, tossing both to you. You catch them with one hand, not daring to let go of the towel.
Slipping back into the bathroom, you quickly change. You check out your new outfit in the bathroom mirror. Both items are way too big for you. Even though the shirt is massive it somehow still hugs the curves of your breasts. You don’t love the fact that you have nothing on underneath Haechans clothes.
You step back into his room where he’s waiting for you.
“How do the pants fit?”
You pull up the shirt slightly with one hand, and pull up the sweats with the other, before dropping them, demonstrating how they drop down landing just below your hip bones.
“What do you think?”
You ask sarcastically. He let’s out a little laugh at your demonstration, stepping closer.
“Here let me help.”
He grabs the waist of the pants, rolling them up once then twice. His fingers ghosting your bare waist in the process. When he finishes, his hands still remain. You can’t help but hyper focus on his touch, on how his warm hands feel on your skin.
Tension fills the air. You look up at him, meeting his gaze. There’s another pause, and you can’t take it anymore.
“Kiss me already.”
You whisper, it’s barely audible, you would’ve wondered if he had even heard you if he hadn’t already dipped down, meeting your lips with his.
His grip on your waist tightens as he pushes you against the wall, his leg moving to find home between yours.
Your mouths move together unison, you feel yourself falling deeper in his trance. Though, there’s still a small whisper in your head, reminding you of your friends words, her warning.
Before you can pay attention to it, Haechan starts to push your body down on his thigh, guiding you to grind slowly against it. His kisses moving to your neck, causing you to tilt your head back on the wall in pleasure.
A hand snakes up your waist to rest on your breast, his thumb running over your bud delicately. A small moan escapes your lips, and you swear you can feel him smile against the skin of your neck.
He continues to attack your neck, his hand squeezing and massaging your breast rhythmically.
You pull his head back up by his chin to kiss him, your lips were feeling lonely.
He picks you up, and your legs wrap instinctually around his waist. He carries you to his bed, laying you down gently.
His arms resting on either side of your head, he looks down on you like you’re a feast for kings and he is starving.
He gives you quick but deep kiss, before moving down your body. His hand moves to the waist of your sweatpants, but you grab it before he can slide them down your legs.
“Haechan.”
You say breathlessly, staring down at him with puppy-like eyes.
“Yes, y/n?”
“I..I don’t want to move too fast.”
He looks up at you, a smirk slowly growing on his face. Your innocence is so cute to him.
“Don’t worry princess, you don’t have to move at all. I’ll do all the work.”
He teases, but he still doesn’t move, waiting for your approval to continue.
You bite your lip. Your friend’s warning ringing through your head again.
Fuck it, just one more night with Haechan can’t hurt.
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tags : @snflwrhaerecs4u @ki-aechan @loveforred @whiplashhhh @miniminkis @milimo07 @neocityhoe @90s-belladonna @toroufriteh @renjunniex @chimiwimi @cas104 @dongsookie0606
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chaosheadspace · 1 month
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You KNOW I’m gonna request 21 with Dreamling for the kissy prompts 🥺
🤘five-and-dimes
Hello @five-and-dimes, thank you for sending in an ask! Here you go.
At first, Dream does not really notice.
After all, he has so much to do when he finally escapes, and Hob is a welcome distraction, a haven where he shores when his duty and the voices of others become too much, too heavy. Hob is safety, Hob is respite, Hob is a breath after surfacing after diving.
Hob helps him acclimatise again, makes humanity palatable in a thousand tiny morsels. Where Dream still feels cold glass, still tastes stale air, still sees painted stars, Hob slowly but surely replaces one hundred years of solitude with little flickers of colour.
Hob feeds him, just a few bites, of every meal he eats in Dream's presence. At first, Dream is hesitant, but he owes Hob, owes him for his loyalty, and a little food cannot harm him, can it? And Dream is surprised, the first time, how hungry his body is. Not for the offered sustenance, no, but for the care with which Hob offers a forkful of his dinner.
Hob's other offerings are easier to accept.
Soft blankets, clothes, even a black plushie called, according to Hob, mothman. He wraps Dream in warm softness, encloses him in the promise of a barrier between him and the recent past.
Television, which Hob is very enthusiastic about. Shows, films, video games. It runs human emotion through Dream on an infinitesimal scale, one at a time, easy, distinct. He tastes laughter again, fear, sorrow, lust, even allows himself to dip his toes into his sister Despair’s realm, but only briefly. The emotion does not have to be his, when he is watching. It is not overwhelming. He can feel it, and let it go. It leaves him exhausted but better, small chunks of himself puzzled into the cracks the past put there.
But Hob does not touch him, not really.
He offers hugs, and cuddles, and readily lets Dream treat him as part of the sofa, putting his feet or his head or his whole self into Hob's lap. But, Dream realises, he has never really felt Hob's touch. A squeeze on his coat-clad shoulder, at most.
It puzzles him, because Hob readily offers and gives touch to other people close to him, Dream has had time to observe. Tight hugs, claps on the back, ruffled hair, clasped hands in earnest conversation, Hob always reaches for people.
But not for Dream.
He recalls countless situations where Hob changed his mind, though. Tentatively lifted his hand, just to take it away again, uncharacteristically shy. If it is shyness at all.
And so it happens that in the middle of the game show they are supposed to be watching, Dream takes one of Hob's hands, startling him.
Hob turns his head, puzzled, trying to jerk his hand away. Dream does not let him. “Wha—”
“Why do you not touch me?” Dream asks softly. He loosens his hold on Hob's hand, turns it over in his grip and gently smooths his index finger over Hob's palm.
Hob releases a trembling breath. “Dream—”
“Please,” Dream says, even quieter, not looking Hob in the eye. Instead, he watches Hob's fingers curl slightly in the flickering light from the TV, trails the mounds of Hob's fingers from index to pinkie.
Hob switches off the TV sound.
“My hands aren't pretty,” he finally says. “They're not soft. They're warrior’s hands, craftsman’s hands, and I thought—” he swallows. “I thought you've had enough roughness in your life for once.”
Dream smiles, just a little. “Tell me,” he says, taking Hob's hand in both of his, “have you not been gentle with me?”
He raises it, cradled, moon white on sun-kissed. “Will these hands not protect me?”
He places a kiss on the knuckle of Hob's thumb, and Hob takes a sharp breath.
“These hands have fed me,” Dream continues, touching his lips to the pad of Hob's index finger. “They have clothed me, garbed me in blankets to ward off the cold.”
Dream's mouth slowly continues its way, feeling out the shape of Hob's calluses and scars, breathing the words into the space between Hob's fingers.
“Your hands will not harm me,” Dream says, carefully placing Hob's hand palm first against his own cheek, “and neither will you.”
A hitching breath, almost like a sob, and then Hob reaches for him with his other hand, drawing Dream in by the back of his head, twining his fingers into Dream's hair. And Dream goes gladly, leans forward into Hob's warmth, follows the call of Hob's lips with his own, tasting care and love and fierceness all for himself.
Send me a kissy prompt or read the other ones here
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firstprinceofhearts · 2 months
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In looking for more HANDS content, I gave this scene in the blooper reel a little more attention than I had previously and now I have thoughts...
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I'm assuming that the raspberry part wasn't scripted, hence it being a blooper and not a deleted scene (although I wouldn't be surprised if Alex actually did do that - and the reaction could just as easily be Henry's as Nick's), but regardless, Alex straddling Henry and macking on his neck presumably was part of the original script, and I'd love to know what this scene was supposed to be.
The set is quite clearly the Paris hotel room, but since it's during daylight hours, I can only assume it takes place the morning after (where there is indeed a scene omitted from the final script).
I'm guessing that Alex is about to leave for the airport (you can see his case waiting for him by the door), hence why he's dressed and Henry isn't yet, so perhaps this scene would have made up part of their farewell? Alex unable to bring himself to depart without ravishing his boyfriend one more time? In fact, I can absolutely see him stealing every last second with Henry that he can, especially when all that's standing between him and Henry's naked body is a fuzzy robe.
The thing is, though, I can't tell you how much I love that this time Henry is the one in a state of undress while Alex is fully clothed, shoes, jacket and all. (No, you still haven't got over Henry's wardrobe choices in Alex's bedroom - I mean, seriously? Jacket? Bow tie? Sort it out, Henry.)
Of course, there are a bunch of times throughout the film when Henry is somewhere private and so is a little more casual than he would ever be in public, but in general he does give off a proper-at-all-times vibe that Alex doesn't. Whether that's because Alex is actually dressed more casually in a given scene or if it's because his suits are always more fashionable and fitted, making him look less stuffy and formal (my friend's hatred of double breasted jackets has really started to rub off on me), the only scene I can actually think of where Alex is more smartly dressed than Henry is at the polo match and Henry is in his kit then, so I don't think that really counts.
Basically, I don't think Alex is ever dressed more formally than Henry, so I really, really love the reversal here. I know they're in private, so it's not all that different to the other times we see Henry dressed down in some way, but there's something about the contrast of his bathrobe opposite Alex's jacket and trousers that really does it for me.
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beatrixstonehill2 · 7 months
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"A lot of people ask me, 'Chloe, what's the hottest part of being a pregnant trans girl?' And I mean, there are a lot of things! First of all, my womb is technically State property, so I have no say in if I get pregnant or not. Every time my uterus is ready I'm inseminated via a small port on my side, after lots of fertility drugs, of course, which are part of my hrt routine. I'd say, though, my favorite thing is the uncertainty of birth...... My port has a tracking device. So all of my checkups and any medical-related stuff happens compulsorily wherever I am. They pull up, take off my clothes, measure me, weigh me, take breast milk samples, semen samples, ask me embarrassing questions about how often I'm having sex, masturbating, if I'm letting men smack my belly during intercourse and if not, why not?
So I can be out on a date or at work or in line at the grocery store and they'll come up to me and do this whole checkup as everyone watches, filming, gossiping about it, and my body.... It's so humiliating, having my clothes removed, or sometimes even cut off of me with scissors, as the nurses and doctors only talk to each other and never me. I just have to obey as they touch and poke my body, grabbing me, openly talking about my growth and stuff..... I can only talk if they ask me questions like 'How many men have you fucked this week?' or 'Are you engaging in any extreme bondage?' or 'Are you using drugs while you prostitute?' I then have to explain that I don't prostitute myself and they don't believe me..... Well, I mean..... OK I hook sometimes but not all the time! It's just a hobby......
Then of course they weigh me and ask me stuff like how fat I'm trying to get..... again, more loaded fetish questions..... They take milk samples as another nurse jerks me off for a semen sample. When they're done they give me a nice spank and go on their merry way, leaving me still in line or at a restaurant on a date, naked, hugely pregnant, totally embarrassed.... But of course, the real answer to the initial question is obvious.... The hottest thing? I wasn't given any way to give birth naturally, so like a growing amount of trans girls I don't get the pleasure of giving birth anally or urethrally...... I'm given C-Sections...... no matter where I am, just like my checkups.
Last time I had a guy over and I was riding him, my cock on his chest getting absolutely smashed to hell by my giant pregnant belly every time I pumped down on him. It was pure bliss, some of the best sex I had that whole week! When...... the doctor came in. They have a key because my womb is State property, so they can enter my place whenever...... They told us not to worry or bother interrupting ourselves. So I mindlessly rode his cock and he had the time of his life watching this unfold, as they smeared my belly with numbing gel and, yepppp....... And every time I slowed down they told me it was a routine retrieval, that my time was up for this pregnancy, to not 'be dramatic' and stop what I was doing....
We both came so many times, we were exhausted by the end, because after we came they'd smack my ass and tell me to keep riding. I covered his chest in so much cum, it was glorious! My balls legit felt ready to pop, picture it.... My big hips, riding a guy anally, my balls were on his groin getting smashed under the weight of my belly, full of quintuplets with every pump and thrust..... My scrotum was bruised for a week, which guys just found hot..... They slapped this gel on my incision after my babies were taken out (again, State property!), and my whole Caesarian scar was healed in like a day. Not that they bothered to line it up with my other three Caesarian scars, so my belly is gorgeous but it kinda looks like people are taking a samurai sword to my belly when I'm full term. Wait, don't give them any ideas..... Kidding! I love being a breeder for the State! And I can't wait to see how many kids get pulled out of my belly this time.... I'll try to fuck as much as I can when I'm full term, so hopefully I get to give another guy the ride of his life! ❤️"
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urf1lterr · 2 years
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lovesick | pedro pascal [2]
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"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."
next chapter: [3] previous chapter: [1] series masterlist
summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.
pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader
genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually
word count: 6.7k
status: in progress
author's note: this chapter was for fun- i have the 1975 on repeat so i had to lmao. i kinda wanna do a slow burn because i don't want to make anything happen so fast. and pedro was at the oscars a few hours ago so why not post another chapter for him :) not edited.
You hated working weekends.
Something about waking up extremely early on a day that was supposed to be your day off irks you. Why have a scheduled rest day if you're just going to be scheduled to come in? It made zero sense, especially since you were only given a two hour notice before while sleeping.
No pay, clothes, gifts could ever make you happy after being called in at 5am for a 7am shift-
"Venti iced white chocolate mocha with oat milk, vanilla sweet cold foam, caramel drizzle, and light ice as always," Pedro listed as he handed you the coffee.
"Oh my god, I think I love you," you blurted out, staring at the cup in awe.
"That was fast, I see now why you're single," Pedro replied, giving you the side eye. "And soon diabetic."
Rolling your eyes, you take a sip of the coffee before shaking your head. "Not like that, you moron," you scoffed as he glared at you. "I love coffee too much- and who says I'm single."
"Think of it as your reward for waking up to the call," he joked as you just stared at him annoyed. The one time you turn off your do not disturb and this happens. "Your loneliness says otherwise."
"I am not lonely!" you gasp as he shrugs. "I'll have you know I am dating-"
"If you dare say Matty Healy I will personally push you in a bush-," Pedro declares, stopping you as you try to interject. "-and won't help you back up."
Huffing, you cross your arms as he laughs at the sight of your defeat. He knows you too well considering the fact you only met two months ago.
In fact, these two months were probably the best ones you have had all year. Not only did you experience some awesome moments you're sure you'll never get to witness again, but you got along with a lot of special people.
What made things even better was the fact that you got along with your boss because who knows where you would've ended up if Finn was a total douche- which he wasn't. But he did have his moments where he took your kindness for weakness- like asking you to come in for shift on a Saturday.
One thing that definitely advanced would have to be your relationship with Pedro. Nearly best friends is what you two were typically called on a normal day on set by how close you've become.
The nearly part added because nothing could ever come between his relationship with Bella, or Bellie in his own words. And because Jules always made sure to tell the jokesters that she was not giving up her position just yet.
But when it came to work, Pedro was always there for you. Considering he's been in the industry since before you were even born, which he yelled at you once when you joked, he was the best support.
He would even ask you what you were assigned to do and tell you specifically what was wanted without you even asking- even finding ways to physically assist before being caught and sent back to his actual job.
There were also the constant times where he would spam you with iMessage game requests to 8 ball and ignore you after beating him three times in a row, claiming his phone died despite your messages being sent through.
The only thing that made today better was that he was here because who knows how boring the day would have been if you were spent hanging with the technicians who; in fact, did not appreciate the countless times you dropped a mic.
"Why didn't Jules get called in?" you questioned as he turned up the computer brightness you were using. "That girl never wakes up early but I kid you not, she was playing minecraft on her computer when I was leaving."
"I love minecraft," Pedro sighed.
"I do too, but Jules always sends the creepers to my house," you complain. "They always destroy my garden."
"I could only imagine the devastation in your eyes," he dramatically exhales as you nudge him. "But I think it's because you're more...attentive? Not saying that she isn't, but she sure loves to talk about Jersey Shore in between takes."
"She's been binge-watching all the seasons after work."
The conversation ended once he was caught again by one of the producers and lured out of the office you were in. Initially, he searched around the studio and found you to gift the coffee, but he stayed because he did not want to sit on the makeup chair for another round of a drastic look being applied to his face- especially if you weren't there to pester him.
As for you, once clocked in Finn managed to have you scan after emails as a way to apologize for the call in. Apparently, one of his assistants called out so he decided to use you as their replacement since he couldn't find the time to sit down in a cozy office and do so.
But you were totally not complaining.
That only lasted you about two hours before you were finished and terribly bored.
Throwing the empty cup of coffee in the trash, you decided to walk around in hopes of finding something better to do or else you would've fallen asleep on the desk.
You would've if you weren't scared of the thought of a director finding and; consequently, firing you.
Hearing a loud noise, you quickly averted your eyes where your ears were signaling where the noise came from. Lightly jogging behind a curtain, your eyes widened to a sight of a desk on its side and a man hovering over it.
"Joon?!" you exclaim, running over to find him lowly panting, trying to remain his coolness as you began inspecting him to find any injuries.
"I'm fine," he calmly replied, using his dimpled smile as a way to reassure this but you didn't believe him. That was a loud drop.
"Why in the world are you lifting a desk that surely isn't less than 30 pounds?" you glare as he chuckles at the fake anger you poorly tried displaying.
"One of the technicians asked me to bring it out."
"And did you forget that your back would disagree?"
He shuts his mouth for a second, loss for words at your comeback. "I couldn't say no," he shyly replied. "I didn't want to have to pull out my medical forms explaining why I can't lift a table."
Feeling your face sink, you helped him stand straight as he glanced down at the fallen table. "You should have called for help then- everybody would need help for a gigantic table like this."
He only nodded in response, making you feel bad. You felt like you were lecturing him, technically you were, but you didn't want to find out in the future the reason he stopped attending work was because he pulled his back again.
"I'll drag this out," you declare as he tried slapping you hands away from it.
"It's too heavy for you!" he argued.
"Which is why I said drag," you countered back, ignoring his pleas as you somehow managed to lift the table back to its standing positioning.
Walking around it, you bent your back as you began pushing it around the curtain as Joon followed your position, crouching next to you for the extra support.
If it wasn't for the film crew being around the floor, you were sure you would have passed out right then and there. But you couldn't let them know how weak you were.
"And that's how teamwork makes the dream work," you announce, causing Joon to giggle before giving you a high-five as the two of you stand up from your bent posture.
Joon was another person you got along with incredibly well. For one, you guys were the duo out of all the interns. Every job you had that included another person, he was always there.
There was also the many times the two of you, and Jules of course, would carpool together to get home. It turned out Joon was also friends with some of your college classmates so he was always the only person from work who joined you guys for the random nights of cheesy movies and boring games while eating takeout with your other friends.
Despite hanging out for so long, you felt dense when someone called him Namjoon one time, even turning your head around for this Namjoon, completely oblivious to the fact that Joon was connected to Namjoon.
To be fair, he never went by his full name claiming that his nickname sounded more 'chill,' or whatever that meant.
Other than that, you were sure he was your other best friend. Well, after Jules and maybe Pedro. They were probably on the same level if you had to arrange them- not that friends had to ranked.
"Are you ready for this afternoon?" Joon called out as the two of you walked off the stage back to the curtains.
"For what?"
He sent you a surprised look, scaring you because is there something crazy happening that you had to prepare for? "Do you have your phone?"
Patting your back pocket, you shook your head. "I think I left it in my bag. Why? I'm about to cry if you don't tell me," you impatiently whine.
"What kind of fan you are," he simply responds, causing you to widen you eyes.
Immediately jumping on him, you shake his shoulders repeatedly. "What is the 1975 doing?! You must tell me or I swear to the gods I will bust your kneecaps and make you crawl for help."
He bursts out laughing at your threatening begs, trying to calm down your jumps by grabbing your shoulders to hold you. "You're violent."
"And you'll need surgery if you don't hurry it up."
Tapping your shoulder to calm down, you slowly do so. "3 o'clock is when their tickets go on sale for their upcoming tour, one of the dates being in New York City."
You could have sworn you were about to faint if it weren't for Joon pulling out his phone to show you you still had time to mentally prepare for the combat you were about to enter.
That's what ticketmaster was, a war zone.
"How was I not aware of this?!" you cry out, internally panicking about what you were going to do. You can't miss out on this concert, you just had to see these British people in person in order for your life to be complete.
"They did just post the news half an hour ago," he admitted. "Good for you for not being addicted to your phone."
Scowling at him, he quickly closed his mouth as you went over all the things you needed to do to prepare. "Wait, can we go together? None of my guy friends like them."
If you weren't in your own world mentally planning how you were going to beat all these teenage girls online, you would have noticed Pedro walking up to the two to you. But you didn't because your mind couldn't stop thinking about Matty Healy singing 'She's American' because you were indeed American.
"Why does she look deranged?" Pedro questioned, standing a few feet away from you. "Oh no, did Matty Healy die?"
Glaring at him, you ignore his irrelevant comment and face back to Joon. "You and me, my place straight after work. Got it?"
He nods, already in game mode because he knows how bad the two of you need to witness this concert.
Pedro exchanged a crazed look between the two of you, assuming his own ideas as to what you meant. "You're having a party and didn't invite me?" he tried joking to understand the conversation a bit more.
"No time for fooling around, Pedro," you state, grabbing Joon by his arm and making your way back to the office to search for your phone. "We have important business to settle, see you around!"
He watched the way Joon and you walk away hurriedly and wonders if you have a thing for the boy. It would make sense right? Joon was around the same age and he saw you guys work together all the time.
Shaking his head, he walks back to the stage trying to not overthink whatever was flowing in his head. But he couldn't help but question why he was never invited to your place? He instantly rejected that idea, he was twice your age. There's no way that was realistically appropriate.
However, you were friends- so wasn't it hypothetically okay?
No, there was no way he was really debating this. It's completely understandable why he didn't need to be invited over and Joon could.
But how many times did Joon come over?
Stop. His thoughts were confusing him and he needed a distraction. He wasn't going to let another man make him envy of where his friendship stood with you because there is no way he's jealous Joon might take his close friend status.
Because that's who you were to him, a close friend.
After another hour of working with Joon secretly about the tickets while emailing more people who Finn ordered, you two were finally cut for the day.
And luckily you still had two hours before the tickets went on sale.
"I need to grab my coat I left backstage, meet me outside?" Joon asked and you nodded, waving him off as you put on your own coat and bag.
Sprinting out of the office, you didn't expect to fall on the floor by the the person who ran into you. Well, the person fell to the floor while you comfortably landed on top of them, their arms wrapping around you.
"If you missed me that much you should've just texted me sooner to drop by," you heard the culprit chuckle, immediately making you shake their secured hands off your waist to stand.
"That was definitely not the case," you laugh, sticking a hand out to help him get up.
He raises a brow while staring at your hand before taking it, instantly pulling you back down with him. Falling over again, you slowly slip into his arms before finding your balance and giving up on helping him.
"How adorable of you to think you can lift me up," he grins, pulling his own weight up.
"I would love to stay and chat," you start, before looking past him and back again. "But I have something very important to do."
Trying to move around him, he stops you by grabbing your shoulder. "That's why I came to be a generous person and offer you a ride- so you can be home faster and do whatever you needed to do with Josh."
"His name's Joon."
"That's what I said," he ignores you're doubtful glance. "I can take you guys to your apartment."
Thinking it over, it would make it easier and faster to get home and prepare for the sale. If you would've taken a cab and subway it would have been an hour, with him it'll be half that.
"Fine," you spit out and watch as his face lights up. "But I am not owing you anything, you offered."
"Love how two months ago you would've begged the world for me," he placed a hand over his heart. "Oh how comfortable you've gotten with me."
"I don't want to hear it," you shun him, walking past him as he makes a silly face behind your back. "I can feel that!" He immediately stops, surprised you sensed it.
Maybe the two of you gotten a long too well.
"He's gonna drive us to my place, it'll be faster," you quickly explain to Joon who just nods, happily smiling at Pedro who sends him a fast greeting.
Right as you walk through the parking garage and see the familiar black car, Pedro unlocks it before quickly pushing you into the passenger seat, ignoring your protests and slamming the door before you could slip out.
"Not cool," you utter once he buckles inside the driver's seat.
"Don't make me cry," he fake cries before pulling the car out and hitting the road back to your place.
Due to it being the weekend and everybody wanting to be social and outside for some reason, the streets were packed.
It didn't help that Pedro thought starting a deep conversation with Joon about why electric cars annoyed him, knowing damn well Joon loved the environment, was a good idea.
And Pedro's defense being because he loved the smell of gas made you want to slap him.
As if the heavens felt your annoyance, your wish was granted. You were finally in the front of your apartment complex with Pedro pulling up along the red curb. You would've fought him, but you were desperate to get inside as you barely had an hour left.
"Thanks, see you Monday!" you exclaim, jumping out of the car and slamming the door shut. "Let's go, Joon!"
Barely stepping a foot out, you heard Pedro begin talking. "Wait, what are you guys gonna do?"
"Very intense work," Joon stated before turning to you. "But we got this in the bag."
Pedro squints his eyes, curiously scanning your body language because he does not know what this very intense work meant.
Working out? Making out? What the hell was it?
"Of course we do, love has no limits," you declare, making Pedro cough as you grabbed Joon's arm. "Now, let's go!"
"What are you two going to eat?!" Pedro called out, making you heavily sigh and turn back around.
Faking a smile, you gritted your teeth. "Don't know. Maybe we'll cook or make Jules' grab food as we work."
He makes a face, not convinced he wants to let you guys leave. Now that he was here and his day was over with, he didn't want to be alone.
But he also didn't want to tell you he wanted to stay. He wanted you to invite him- but you weren't getting the hint. Or maybe you were, but you couldn't have him in the room while working with Joon.
"That's cool, did you know I make a killer chicken alfredo?" he speaks out, making you pull an interested face as you were very much not. "Especially with garlic bread."
"Make sure to make that once you get home, safe travels," you wave, trying to turn away but was once again stopped by his voice.
You could feel your kindness slowly leaving your body. Was this the day you would be arrested and charged for murder?
"You know what's the secret with making the pasta?" Pedro questions as Joon replies back a curious, "What?"
"The sauce!" he exclaims as you try to control yourself. He was definitely pushing your buttons but you had to stay calm- you had to.
Joon was too interested in the conversation Pedro was beginning, trying to ask what was in this mysterious sauce. You knew you had to interject or you would both be ticketless.
"Maybe you can tell us about this secretive sauce on Monday, when we next see you," you force a laugh, trying to slowly take a few steps back to inch towards the entrance doors. "We really have to g-"
"Why wait till Monday when I can tell you now?" he claps, getting reading to explain his recipe. "For starters, you need a thick, sauce that can sp-"
"Oh my god!" you squeal, causing both men to jump and stare at you in shock as you rambled on. "The parking structure is around the block, my number is 912- just park and come up! Let's go, Joon!"
With that, Joon and you ran inside and Pedro smiled to himself. His planned worked. He guessed the only way to get to you was by speaking nonsense until you gave in- he'll remember that in the future.
Rushing through your door, you took your coat off as Joon pulled his laptop out if his backpack and set it next to your desk.
You looked at it confusingly before asking, "you carry your laptop with you to work?"
"Duh, an intern should always be prepared for computer work," he replies as if it was the obvious rule we should all know.
Shrugging, you turned on your PC and immediately went to ticketmaster, finding that the tickets weren't going on sale until 35 minutes from now. "We still have time to breathe." That was until you heard light knocks on your door. "Spoke too soon."
Walking up to your door, you see that no one was out there.
That was until Pedro decided to jump out from the side and scare the living shit out of you.
"I'm not doing this," you glare, trying to slam the door on his face, but he forced his way in while laughing at the scream you exhaled before.
You stared at him with no expression as he fell to the floor, continuing to laugh as if your fear was the funniest thing in the world. Joon was even silently giggling in the corner, stopping when you made eye-contact with him.
Trying to find a bowl to fill with water so you could throw at him, your plans were interrupted when you heard your roommate's voice boom across the room.
"Who the fuck is making so much noise?! Some of us are trying to sleep- ah! Why is Mr. Boss here?" Jules' gasps, jumping behind the hallway wall and peeking only her head out, too embarrassed to show off her hello kitty pajamas.
"He's gonna make us some pasta with his secret sauce," Joon happily states as she just gives him a confused look.
"Plus, it's almost 3 in the afternoon...," Pedro adds, giving her a baffled look as to why she is barely waking up.
She just gives him an awkward glance before running back to her room, shutting the door. Saturday's were her day off, of course waking up after 5pm was normal.
"The time limit just turned green! Refresh to join the waiting room-" Joon began screeching, doing so on his computer as you jumped around Pedro to do the same on your PC.
Slowly walking up to where Joon was, Pedro began examining the situation you two were in. Reading over your computer screen, his face fell. "The 1975 2022 World Tour...were you guys seriously trying to buy concert tickets this whole time?!"
Joon and you exchanged innocent glances to one another, not sure if he was judging you for your dedication.
"No, we still are trying to buy tickets," you simply reply, pushing him away from your computer.
His negativity was bad luck.
"This is why you were rushing to get home? All for-"
"Be gone, pessimist. Your energy is not it," you frown, moving your game chair to block his view from your screen. "Joon, block your computer, we can't afford his cynical attitude to ruin our chances of making out with Matty Healy."
"Making out with Matty Healy? You still want that? How is he gonna notice you?" Pedro asks, trying hard not to laugh in your face.
You were quiet for a minute. It was just a crazy thing you said because of all the videos you had seen online whenever it was somebody's birthday or they were just a lucky fan in the front.
You weren't actually dedicated to kissing him, but you did wish.
Joon slowly raised his finger, pointing at Pedro. "You're famous, right? Maybe if you went he'll notice us?"
Eyes widening, Pedro quickly shook his head as you placed your hand over your mouth. He was right, maybe he wouldn't kiss you, but he would for sure meet you if he found out a famous actor with over a million followers on Instagram attended his show.
"Not a chance," Pedro declared, ignoring your puppy dog gaze as you just hoped doing it for long would make him so uncomfortable he would give in.
Nudging Joon, he followed your actions with the sad stare, the two of you in front of the poor actor, leaving him really no choice. You were even thinking about calling Jules out to help, but she probably wouldn't appreciate it by her state of looking homeless.
But if it were on a work day she would totally be in.
"You just look like a deformed bull terrier," he says, pulling a disgusted face. "It's kind of unattractive."
"What is that?" you urge, watching Joon hold a laugh.
"The target dog," Joon answers for you.
Shrieking, you smack Pedro in the arm. "My god, woman! You always hit me."
"You're coming with us to the concert," you announce, watching him roll his eyes. Before he could reject your demand, you beat him to it, "if you don't I'm never talking to you again."
"Please, I've been wishing for that for weeks now," he cheers. "Plus, I'm pretty sure I am busy the day they come."
Pulling yourself close to the computer, you check to see the day they were arriving. "So you're saying you aren't free November 7th?"
"Kid, that's basically a year from now. I can't guarantee anything."
"Damn, you're right," you frown, your mood going down. Joon's idea was pretty amazing, but just wrong timing since the concert was so far away. "You can leave now."
"And what about that famous chicken alfredo?" Pedro chuckled, finding your change in demeanor amusing. You must really love these indie boys.
You were about to reply when Joon intervened. "Oh my god! We are in the queue!"
Twisting your head, you could see the clock had hit 3 o'clock exactly. How did time go by that fast?
"Holy shit! Everybody disconnect from the house wifi on your phones! We can not have anything disturbing us!"
Pulling out your phone, you did what you ranted on and made sure Joon did the same. You even ran to Jules' door and banged on it until she confirmed she did so.
Running back to the computer, you could see there was still 983 people in front of you while Joon had 754. "Why is your computer going faster?"
"This laptop-," he sheepishly smiled. "-cost a fortune, but works like a charm."
Turning back to the screen, you saw the purple line move closer. Not even three minutes in and you only had 534 people left while Joon had 312.
You don't know what you did, but God was certainly rewarding you.
"You're honestly really weird," Pedro confessed, staring at your computer screen. "And sad."
"You would be if you were about to buy tickets to see the love of your life."
"I wouldn't pay anything, money can't buy love," Pedro insists, pulling a chair from your table and placing it in between Joon and you.
"That's very romantic," you swipe an imaginary tear from your cheek. "Save it for the cameras."
His jaw drops as you return back to your computer. In a few moments you were about to be inside the room and you were beyond scared. If you did not get these tickets you don't know how much longer you'll have to live.
"I'm in!" Joon shouts, causing you to jump to his screen.
Great, the two of you were going together anyway so it works out.
"Fuck, what's the presale code?!"
Placing your hands on your head as he begins to panic, you die inside. What the fuck were you going to do now? "Go on Twitter and check!"
To say Pedro was not intrigued would be a lie. It was very fascinating seeing how strongly engaged you were just for a damn ticket. To be honest, he thinks you would be great on a reality tv show- your expressions were just off the roof. He wonders if other people genuinely acted like you.
"It's probably something super simple, try 'thesound,'" you exclaim, watching as he typed right away but frowning when it denied it. "try 'somebodyelse.'"
After each attempt of every famous song they had, it was still wrong. What pissed you off even more was that fans were gatekeeping the code no matter how many times Joon and you tweeted for help.
Greedy little shits.
Eventually, your screen allowed you into the room as well. It was no use, you didn't have the code. "I think I'm going to have a panic attack," you clutch your chest as you felt your lips quiver from sadness. "We were so close."
Pedro just stared at you not believing how miserable you suddenly became. Is this how easily young people let concerts take over themselves? Do people really idolize artists that much to the point where they feel depressed if they don't get tickets?
He shivered imagining how BTS fans dealt with this pressure.
"Let me try," Pedro speaks up, pushing you to the side as he began typing away on your keyboard.
It never hurts to try, right?
Innocently clicking away, your face fell as the check mark appeared, unlocking the room for you. "He got in!"
Hurriedly jumping to the screen, Joon urged Pedro to do the same as you began searching through the seats. Instantly clicking on the floor, you hit the continue button for 2 seats.
Feeling your nerves kick in, your hands begin to shake as you typed in the needed information in order to complete your order. But once you pressed 'place your order," your world stopped.
Ignoring your surroundings, you only focused on the screen. Quietly praying, you're sure Joon and Pedro could hear your desperate requests to the ruler of the universe to grant you your biggest wish: these tickets.
You Got The Tickets To The 1975!
Feeling weightless, you screamed so loud you were sure your neighbors were going to call the cops. Joon looked over, doing the same cheers once he realized you two were set for the show.
Jumping out of your chair, you practically tackled Pedro to the ground as you wrapped your arms around his neck and planted him numerous kisses all over his cheeks.
For once, you were happy you managed to outlast his annoying-self.
"I will forever be grateful for your existence!" you cheer, squeezing his poor body in your arms as he tried to remain in balance, laughing at how nice you suddenly became.
Planting a big kiss on his forehead, you turn to Joon and jump together in happiness. You couldn't believe you managed to score tickets, especially floor seats.
"Wait, what was the code?" Joon asked, pulling away from you and turning to Pedro who tried containing his grin.
"The 1975."
You dropped you arms, feeling incredibly stupid. How could you not write their name as a code attempt? It was shorter than 'it's not living if it's not with you.'
"Joon, we are officially the two dumbest people in New York City," you confess as he slowly nods before stopping.
"Not dumber than Jules though."
You heard her door open before her loud yelling appeared, "Well fuck you too!"
Ignoring her, you jump to Pedro who had his gaze on you already. "Welp! Since we got that out of the way, why don't you make some of that chicken alfredo with your sauce."
He smiled before realizing what you were asking. "What sauce?"
You roll your eyes before hitting his side. "The secretive one you were bothering us about."
Pedro bounces up once he understands what he had mentioned earlier. "Oh, right. That one," he chuckles. "I was kidding, I just wanted to see what you guys were dong."
Your face falls as Joon lets out a sad sigh. "Man, I really wanted to taste how thick and creamy that sauce was."
Pedro just tilts his head to Joon before pointing at the door. "It was great hanging with you guys though! Hey, at least we all worked together for those tickets! I'm gonna head out now, have a good rest of your evening!"
With that, he awkwardly backs away and opens the door, quickly running out before you could argue why he would lie about such a thing.
Before you could process what had just happened, he quickly opens the door again and peeps his head inside. "By the way, you don't actually like a deformed bull terrier," he clarifies. "I was kidding, maybe a cavalier king charles spaniel, those are precious."
And again, he runs out. This time, your face was pretty noticeable when it came to how much redness was present. You cringed to yourself, the littlest of compliments always made you blush- it made you sick.
Joon and you exchanged confused looks to each other. Pedro was a very interesting man.
"What is a cavalier king charles spaniel?" you lightly question.
"The dog in the arms of an angel commercial," Joon simply replies.
Reaching his car, Pedro quickly unlocked the door before jumping in. He felt his heart beating fast, not sure why it was doing so.
Was it because he adored how committed you were for those damn tickets? Maybe. Or how your eyes sparkled once you realized you got the right code? Possibly.
How you kissed him and pulled him in close? Most definitely.
But he would never reveal such a thing to anyone. People would take it wrong and believe he had feelings for you. All he had were feelings one would have for another close friend like you.
His heart was beating because he was excited for you, that's all.
Walking around the studio Monday morning was exhausting. Not only did you pull an all-nighter Saturday night because you were too happy to fall asleep, but you only managed to gain a few hours of sleep on Sunday as you were too busy trying to finish homework due that same night.
"Are you alright? Do you need water?" you heard Bella worriedly ask as you pulled a hoodie over your head and walked near the snacks table.
"I need a pill that can wake me up."
"That could be arranged," she joked, stopping when you sent her a serious look. "Not by me, of course."
Bella managed to wake you up a little once she suddenly pulled out her phone and turned the flash on, flashing it all around your face. "Are you trying to make me blind?!"
"It's supposed to wake you up, is it working?" she grinned, still shoving her phone up your face.
Grabbing her wrist, she stops. "No."
"Damn, that sucks."
Somehow you managed to pull yourself together, walking to where the rest of the interns were once you heard all the directors call out for an urgent meeting.
Probably wanting one of you to run to the coffee shop for coffee as usual.
Seeing Pedro waving at you from the side of his cast's group, you smiled and returned it. He then proceeded to make a confused face, wondering why there was an emergency meeting being held.
You sent the same look, adding a shrug because you were feeling the same. You weren't aware about what was going on, but noticing how many people were present- it must be a big deal.
Finn walked in and stood near the director, sending you a smile that didn't look natural.
If anything it looked fake and...sad?
"A lot of you are probably wondering why I called everyone down here on this early morning," you hear one of the directors begin, making some people nod while others just patiently waited for him to continue. "Starting with wonderful news, we have just been given access to explore our visuals and proceed to try out different surroundings in regards to our planned perception for the series."
Hearing a few people clap, you do the same. You were glad that the set was upgrading, but what did they have to do with everyone?
"Unfortunately," you heard him begin, causing your breathe to hitch. "with locations being held in various places like Canada, we are going to have to make cuts."
Feeling your heart drop, you already knew who he was planning to remove. A big series like this can't send interns they don't care about out of the country for help and you sure as hell couldn't afford to pay for the travels yourself if it came down to it.
You didn't want to make eye-contact with Bella or Pedro and feel their condolences through their expressions. All you wanted to do was be cut already so you could go home and cry at home.
To cry over a job was pathetic, but considering how much you learned and loved to manage it for the past couple months, it was sad to let it go.
As the director went down the list of small departments he planned on letting go, he finally made it to yours. "As for the interns, we are especially grateful for the hard work you brought to this set and trying to fill not only our needs but the casts. If we have any open positions in the near future we will make sure to grant you priority, and if you ever need letters of recommendations for your future activities, I am sure Finn would be able to handle that behind closed doors..."
You zoned out after that, not really caring what else was being said. It was the typical its not us excuse, claiming the company couldn't provide for all of their workers yet were able to spend millions of dollars on each location and its visuals.
The meeting was over when you noticed the directors and producers giving a final sympathetic look to the crowd, bowing their heads before walking back to where their offices were located.
"I feel like crying," you heard Jules sniffle, patting her under eye with her sweater. "But I took time on my eye makeup so I can't!"
Rubbing her shoulder, you tried to distract her from her tears coming out as Joon stood next to you guys, telling her funny spongebob jokes that she did not understand.
"Uh oh, Mr. Boss is coming. He's gonna make me cry, I can't hear his sorrow," Jules' explained, turning her back the other way.
"Hey, kids," you heard Pedro lightly say.
"The tears are coming out!" Jules' exclaimed, running away to the nearest bathroom while Joon and you looked at each other, feeling extremely bad for her.
"Sorry about that," Pedro awkwardly started, continuing once you shook off his unnecessary apology. "I just wanted to talk, see how you guys are handling the unfortunate news."
Joon was the first to speak, sounding surprisingly calm for someone who just lost his internship. "It sucks, but at least it was for an understandable reason. Traveling costs money. Plus, we go to school here, we can't just leave."
You nodded, agreeing with what he said. It was true, you should have known this job would've ended sooner than later, there was only so much you could have done inside a film studio.
The series was an apocalypse that needed feature more outside and environmental sets that looked deadly than a building that was only useful for inside takes.
"How about you?" He questions, sincere eyes following yours as you shrug.
"I am sad but that's the industry," you force out a small chuckle. "If you aren't cut at least once, you aren't gaining the full experience."
Right after you said that, you felt tears lining around the inner corner of your eyes. Looking down, you tru to contain yourself. "I'm going to go check up on Jules."
Reaching out for you, Pedro tries to console you but you were out of his reach in seconds. He hated the tears in your eyes and his job being the reason behind it.
He felt as if it were his fault for your departure when he knows he shouldn't.
It also didn't make him feel any better that Joon followed straight after you once you walked away. He knew he had to do something but he wasn't sure.
All he knew was that he would rather see you smile than cry.
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