#rico writes

[riconas]

Rico. I saw your tags on that post.

Please, would you be so kind as to tell me how a swissalps breeding session would go down? I'm so very eager to hear your thoughts. :)

give it up for swiss (he bit off more than he could chew, again)

“Put it in,” Swiss breathes. “Inside, c’mon.”

Mountain grabs a fistful of his ass and squeezes hungrily. Swiss has got a nice ass, truth be told. He’s got a nice everything. But Mountain doesn’t tell him this, because Swiss doesn’t deserve it, and Swiss’s ego does not require any further inflation.

“Put what in?” Mountain asks patiently, and Swiss groans in frustration.

“Your cock. Put your cock inside me.” He rocks back against Mountain’s hand. “Hurry. I’ve been waiting so long.”

As if Mountain hasn’t, stuck behind his drum kit, watching Swiss present himself like a whore. He’d seen that back arch, that ass pushed up into the air, and had to shift in his seat for the next fifteen minutes, trying to find a position that didn’t make his cock feel like a boulder in his pants.

Mountain gives his ass another warning squeeze. “You’ve been waiting so long? How do you think I feel?” He smacks Swiss right on the hole, watching it twitch all pink and wrinkly. “Face down ass up, huh? That's how you want it?”

“Obviously,” Swiss says, somehow managing to sound prim, even with his chest pressed to the mattress. “Fuck me open, Daddy. Breed me.”

“You’ve already done that, clearly,” Mountain says, as he slides a finger in to find Swiss already stretched and slick. He works another in just as easily, twisting his wrist so his knuckles catch nicely on Swiss’s rim.

“Oh, it wasn’t just me,” Swiss replies. “Rain helped.”

Mountain imagines Swiss bent over the couch in their dressing room, pants shoved down to his ankles, Rain’s cock buried in his ass. Thinks of the noises he’d make, the stifled gasp at the first push in, the punched-out little groans when Rain gets him solid in his sweet spot. All it does is get him even more hot and bothered.

A small part of Mountain wants to keep this going, to drench his fingers in lube and spit and what may very well be Rain’s slick, to shove them down to the knuckle and curl them into his prostate until he’s dribbling all over the sheets. He could get his whole hand in, probably. He could go at it for hours. It’s the least Swiss deserves.

But fuck, he’s so hard.

“Guess you won’t need prep, then,” he says, and nudges the leaking head of his cock up against Swiss’s hole, teasing at the ring of muscle, pressing against it just to watch Swiss tense up. He taps Swiss’s hands, twisted into the nice sheets. “Spread those cheeks. Let me see.”

Swiss obediently complies, pulling his asscheeks apart to expose himself. A trickle of cum slides down to his balls, tracking slick in its wake. Mountain wants to smear it around with his finger. He’s sure Swiss wouldn’t mind.

“Put it in,” Swiss says again, but he doesn’t sound so authoritative anymore. “Please. I want your cock. Just put it in.”

Swiss is tight. Tighter than he ought to be, Mountain thinks, as he sinks in so considerately slowly, sliding a big hand into Swiss’s curls so he can pull his head up, enjoying the loose give of his back, so much more flexible than he lets on. Mountain wants to see it arched pretty, wants to stroke along the curve of strong muscle and velvet skin. He’ll push as far as it goes, stretch that gorgeous body to its furthest limit, until Swiss is gasping and stiff, and—

“Are you in?” Swiss asks, his voice tight and strained. “Is it in all the way?”

“Halfway,” Mountain says, rubbing his flank reassuringly. “Where’s the tough guy? Thought you wanted me to breed you.”

“I do,” Swiss grits out, and then he makes a kind of choked-off sound when Mountain slides in another couple inches, his arms giving out underneath him. “It’s so big.”

“It?” Mountain asks. “What’s it?”

“Your cock,” Swiss moans, and then his voice wheedles off into a reedy keen as Mountain presses in all the way, full balls pressing snugly against the back of Swiss’s thighs. He’s so warm inside, so soft. Mountain slaps his lovely ass, just to watch it jiggle, and Swiss clenches around him like a vice.

“What were you thinking about?” Mountain asks, as he begins to thrust, in and out, nice and steady. “During the ritual.”

With some difficulty, Swiss hoists himself to his elbows, turning his head just enough to gaze at Mountain. Mountain catches a glimpse of the wet patch on the sheets, where Swiss must’ve been drooling.

“I thought about Rain,” he says, soft and breathless, and Mountain stiffens. “Using me like a fleshlight, rough as hell—you know how he is. Really having at it, you know? Right up in my guts. Fucking his cum so deep I’d feel it for days—oh, fuck—”

Mountain, having grabbed him by the throat, yanks his head back like a stubborn tree branch in need of shearing. “Try again.”

“Ah!” Swiss gasps. “Sorry, sorry. Thought about you. Thought about your cock, in front of all of those people—they’d love to have watched, Mount. It’s so big, they could’ve seen it from the last row—”

Swiss needs to shut up, Mountain decides. He should never have given him an opening to be chatty. He clamps a hand over Swiss’s terrible mouth, jabbing his cock as deep as it will go, and when he leans over to gaze at Swiss’s face, Swiss’s eyes have rolled back in his head.

“You think Papa knows what you get up to on that little stage of yours?” He speaks the words right into Swiss's ear, all the better to be heard. He can feel his knot swelling as he pounds into Swiss—the resistance is making it harder and harder to squeeze past the threshold of his body. “You don't think he'd be disappointed, seeing his favourite ghoul spread out onstage like a whore?”

It’s a rhetorical question. Mountain doesn’t actually want Swiss to give him an answer—it’s more fun to wonder, and more entertaining to watch Swiss struggle to speak with Mountain’s hand over his mouth.

“Blasphemy,” Mountain says, taking advantage of the silence. “That’s what it would be, and you know how the Clergy feels about blasphemy.”

Swiss gnaws at his fingers, and Mountain snatches his hand away with an irritated growl. Good things never seem to last.

“Give it to me,” Swiss whimpers, pushing back against Mountain, squishing his balls with every pass. “I’m your bitch, baby. Breed me like it.”

Mountain huffs out a laugh. “You sure whine like one.”

He isn’t usually so crass. He prefers to save the dirty talk for special occasions, like Christmas, or Easter—the holier the better. Swiss is very good at bringing out the worst in him.

“Fuckin’ fill me up,” Swiss moans. “I can feel it. Do it, shove it in me, make me your slut—”

Mountain grabs his hips and holds him tight. With a wet pop, his knot slides in, the fit hot and tight and fucking perfect. He shudders at how blindingly good it feels, how startlingly divine. It pulses in time to his heartbeat, shooting so wonderfully deep, painting Swiss’s insides, soaking his dick. Thighs shaking, dick throbbing, mind blanking. The whole trifecta.

Swiss wails into the sheets, his own cock spitting ropes of cum, wagging all over the place, his position a complete mockery of the one he’d taken onstage. He flattens himself against the mattress in an attempt to escape, but stuck together as they are, Mountain has no choice to follow, and nearly squashes him.

“Stop moving,” Mountain grunts, grabbing Swiss’s flicking tail and pinning it aside. His head spins with the pressure around his knot, still expanding, locking him in. Really locking him in.

“Oh, no, no,” Swiss cries out, trying in vain to scramble away, to push Mountain’s cock out of his ass. Alas, he cannot. “It’s too big—out, get it out, I can’t—”

“Too late,” Mountain says softly, petting over his curls, uselessly placating. “I’ve got to breed you properly, darling. Can't have it all spilling out, can we?" He kisses the top of Swiss's head. "You just sit tight. I’ll make it catch.”

#miasma oh miasma #how i adore you #rico writes #rico's ficlets #swiss x mountain

[ricopop]

a bynche of self indulgent oscillo dudles ... GIGGLE 😁 @cephalonheadquarters @superbellsubways ooohhh

#happy almost 4 am !!! #also i didnt rly have the wnergy to draw and write this down so its gona go in the notes uhmm #i liked the idea of oscillo working in some virus faction for big bad villain virus as like. a mechanic or sumthin :3 hes still a kid so he #kind of uses that to his advantage to gather information on other tech based beings by coming off as just a dumb unaware kid #which. he is... but he can be smart when he wants 2 ya feelll meee #anyways. coppy and oscillo found family is killing me idk why is so cute to me um #clippy and coppy's son maybe #idk hehe :3 #rico art #virtual assistants #ocs #oscilloscope #also i changed his name. im silly and i thougjt tje instrument name was ollioscope. it was not. its oscilliscope. #pronounced osk ee oh

[ironladders]

finals season is awful so i'm drawing him to cope

#once again: i need to oc post more #eystrain #tw eyestrain #i think?? the red is pretty bright #so i'm tagging it just to be safe #this also doubles as the cover for a final project #so im not entirely procrastinating . dont worry #I DO NEED TO WRITE THAT ONE PAPER THO #my art #art #artists on tumblr #oc art #oc #oc artist #oc artwork #rico #my ocs #original character art #ironladders #clip studio paint #digital art #csp #clip studio #original character

[itsrheasgirl]

AN UNEXPECTED GUEST - PART 5

Chapter 2 for Forbidden Love series. The Forbidden Love series follows a relationship between Rhea x Reader.

•

The Reader has a strong friendship with Liv Morgan.

•

Liv is in love with The Reader but hasn’t told them.

•

fem!reader.

rhea x reader

rhea x liv x reader.

mentions of damian x reader.

•

TW: coarse language, aggressive actions and mild violence, mionors read at own risk.

•

SONG MENTIONED:

(The song rhea and reader dance to)

•

@rheasbaee @riverscyberwife @you-got-me-star-lost-16 @innagnv @bittersweetastoria @chillinbri @call-me-a-simp @sithfar @rooskaya-yelena @half-of-a-gay @teenagedramaqueenlisa @gabrielleskyelar @hit-the-dirt-and-get-back-on @bl0w-m3 @l0v3e1i

•

She retains!

You were already on your feet, bouncing up and down at Raquel’s side as the referee held up Rhea’s arm to solidify her win. The smackdown women’s championship clasped tightly in her other palm as she acknowledged the roaring crowd.

“Aaaand stiiiiill!”

You screamed into Raquel’s face, a small laugh parting your lips as she took a small step back with a chuckle of her own. She could see the pride in your eyes and the excitement on your face, witnessing Rhea’s win brought out such a warm glow in you that Raquel couldn’t help the large grin that claimed her lips as she realized just how much Rhea actually meant to you.

Your gaze scanned quickly around the room before returning your attention to Raquel, your brow furrowing slightly when you realized what was missing.

“Wait.. Where’s Liv?”

Had she not come back?

Raquel’s palms rest down on your shoulders as your gaze flit around the room in panic, her voice quietly sounding in your eardrums as she pulled your focus to her.

“Y/N, hey.. I’ll find Liv..”

Raquel glanced over your shoulders, her lips twitching into a soft grin as she watched the small crowd form to greet Rhea. You should be greeting the woman you loved, showing her the congratulations she deserved and not worrying about Liv. She shouldn’t be your focus right now.

Raquel gave your shoulders a soft pat before jerking her head in the direction of the curtains where the champion was set to emerge from, swiftly turning you round to face the right way and gently pushing you forward.

“Go to her.”

“But..”

You utter, digging the soles of your shoes into the ground.

“I’ll find Liv, just go.”

Gently trapping at your back, Raquel whispered go go go as she encouraged you forward, remaining in place until she was sure you wouldn’t turn around.

As you got closer to the collection of people you paused in your tracks, glancing back over your shoulder in Raquel’s direction. Her lips curving into a soft smile as she shook her head, a gentle jerk of her chin causing you to turn back round just as the curtains parted.

You’d been in this situation before, having to stand by and watch as Rhea disappeared into a sea of people. Meeting her gaze as she tossed her hair back out of her face, you offer the warmest of smiles in Rhea’s direction— everything seeming all too familiar. Your gaze dropped, only for a few seconds but as you looked back up you’re met with an unexpected sight.

Rhea had already made her way through half the people waiting to congratulate her, showing all acknowledgment but not stopping to talk. Her sapphire hues hadn’t left you once as her lips twitched into a playful smirk. She was getting her moment with you and she didn’t care who saw.

“Hey superstar.”

Rhea’s tongue licked at her teeth as an eat shit grin claimed her lips, the last time you’d called her that and how that night transpired playing over in her head as her muscular forearms wrapped around your waist. The weight of her title cascading your spine as she lifted you up off the ground, your legs instinctively wrapping around her waist as she held onto you.

“You’re a winner, baby.”

You whisper into Rhea’s neck, her throat vibrating as she laughed softly against your cheek. The delicate flutter of her lashes tickling against your skin as you relished in the few moments you had together.

“It’s all because of you.”

She uttered as she pulled back to look at you— her make up was half missing and her features red from exhaustion, but she still found the energy to be sickeningly sweet. Your brow arched as you cupped one of her cheeks, your legs dropping back down to the ground.

“Oh really?”

Your palm fell from Rhea’s cheek quickly— remembering where you were, who was watching. Poking a singular finger into the centre of Rhea’s chest, a coy smirk claimed your lips as you stare up at her through thick full lashes.

“Thinking of you...”

Rhea hummed, wrapping the fingers of her free palm slowly around your own.

“It makes me….”

Her lips parting to allow her tongue room to coax over her upper lip, her crystal gaze shimmering with dominance.

“Feisty.”

Playfully snapping her teeth in your direction, you pull your finger free from her hold to slap your palm down against her shoulder. She couldn’t be flirting with you like this around so many people. Suppressing your laugh as Rhea reacts in faux shock to your gentle slap, you reach up on to your tiptoes and lean in enough for your whisper to be heard.

“We can play later, Mami.”

- - - - - - - - - - -

Leaning against the hotel bar you waited patiently for the rest of your group to arrive, under Bianca’s instruction you’d reluctantly agreed to join the champions on their night out. Everyone flew home tomorrow and it was your last chance to spend time with the girls for god knows how long, but part of you wanted something different.

Slender fingers wrapping around the stem of a champagne flute, you gently twirl the sparkling liquid round and round the glass as the sound of heavy footsteps approached behind you.

“Hey, kiddo.”

There was only one person in the world that called you kiddo— and as much as it bugged you, you still let him. Your lips twitching into a playful smile, you span round on your heels to face the gigantic male. Damian towered over you. Just like he did most of the people around the bar, his muscular arms wrapping around your waist as you beamed up at him.

“Hey, big guy.”

Catching the attention of the bartender, Damian ordered himself a drink before releasing you from his hold and taking a seat on an open barstool.

“So, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

A small laugh vibrates in your chest as you lean back against the bar top, craning your neck over to meet Damian’s gaze. The broad smile that claimed his lips had your brow arching slightly— bringing the champagne to your lips, you take a small sip.

“Did she tell you I was here?”

Your tongue swiped over your lower lip to catch a small bead of liquor as Damian chuckled, bringing his own glass up to his lips in order to knock back the amber liquid.

“It was Dom, actually.”

Of course it was.

“So you came all this way. Just to see her?”

Taking another sip from your glass, you flash Damian a weary look. You had no doubt in your mind he already knew all about you and Rhea— she’d told Dom enough for him to put the pieces together so why would he be any different.

“Something like that.”

You shot Damian a cheeky wink before downing the remainder of the sparkling liquid in your glass, placing the empty vessel down onto the bar top before pushing off the wood to stand upright. It couldn’t be much longer before the rest of your night out crew arrived right?

Damian chuckled. Motioning to the bartender with the wave of his finger, her ordered two shots of tequila before shifting his gaze back to you.

“Just try and keep it down this time.”

Your eyes widen in shock at the words that fell from Damian’s lips, the color of your cheeks flushing to a soft magenta as you collided your palms with your face.

“No.. nooo no no.. noo.”

You uttered into your palms, the embarrassment washing over you like a tidal wave.

A throat chuckle echoed from Damian’s direction as his broad palm moved to pat gently against your shoulder, to embarrassed to look up you remain hidden in the safety of your hands.

“Don’t worry kiddo, I’ve seen the way she looks at you. It was only a matter of time.”

Peeking through your fingers at the comforting smile that claimed Damian’s lips, you gently lower your palms and try so desperately to act as nonchalant as possible.

You scoffed a laugh, shaking your head gently as Damian continued to chuckle under his breath. It made your heart flutter at the idea of just how Rhea looked at you, if Damian had seen it then this had been happening for a while.

“But listen..”

Damian stated. His tone slightly more firm.

“Rhea is hard as nails, but Demi..”

You can see the passion flair behind Damian’s eyes as he spoke, the care he had for Rhea dominant in his voice as he spoke.

“Demi falls. So if this is just some fun for you and you hurt her.”

Your palms are immediately on Damian’s chest, your feet arching up on your tiptoes so you can gain some height in order for you to lower your voice.

“Damian—”

He cuts you off, his tone authoritative and stern.

“She’s like a sister to me, Y/N. I care about her and I won’t let you break her.”

You thump your fist gently against his chest.

“Will you let me finish.”

Damian chuckles, raising both his palms into the air in surrender. Inhaling a long breath, you nip at your lower lip. Your friends were finding out more about your relationship with Rhea this weekend than she knew herself. Flattening out your palm against Damian’s chest once more, you look straight up to meet his gaze.

“Damian, I love her.”

It was the first time you’d said it out loud. Actually heard the words in your own ears. You love her.

Damian’s features relaxed, his demeanor softening as he reached out to take the shot glass within his lengthy fingers, motioning for you to take the other.

“We’ll then, this one’s too Bennett.”

Your lips twitch into a coy smirk before joining him in this toast, clinking the glasses together before knocking down the fiery liquid. Holding back the cough you so desperately wished to expel, you place the glass back down onto the counter before placing your palm down on top of Damian’s upon the bar.

“I will never hurt her. I will never let anyone else hurt her. I promise.”

- - - - - - - - - -

“Make it three.”

You shouted to the bartender as you bounced up behind Rhea and Damian, a polite smile claiming your lips as you beamed up at the god like male before wrapping your arms around Rhea’s waist from behind, reaching up on your toes to rest your chin on her shoulder.

“How many has she had.”

Damian chortled as he stepped aside to allow you into the line, Rhea’s forearm instinctively wrapping around your hip to pull you closer to her.

“Surprisingly not that many.”

You chimed in, shifting your hip outward to bump against Damian’s before spinning on your nude pumps to face Rhea head on.

“Will you come dance with me now?”

The last time you’d been in this situation Rhea had to watch as a man drooled over you like a puppy, clinging to you as you’d rewarded him with a dance.

“Are we sure that’s a smart idea?”

You knew Rhea was right. Raquel had arrived at the bar alone and when you’d asked her about Liv she’d changed the subject, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t make an appearance. It was stupid, but you weren’t going to let her get in the way of yet another moment, just because she had a problem with you and Rhea having a connection outside of her knowledge.

“Bianca and Iyo are out there, she can’t stop us from having fun. Just come dance.”

Resting your palm down against the exposed flesh of her hipbone, you lean into Rhea and whisper sensually against the shell of her ear.

“Please, Mami.”

A soft groan vibrated in Rhea’s chest as she gripped her fingers around your wrist, spinning you round in one swift motion before tugging you into her chest.

“I will go with you, I do not dance.”

Winding your fingers with Rhea’s, you flash her an impish grin. Your free palm grasping the small glass of clear liquid the bartender had placed in front of you and knocking back the shot in one.

“We’ll see about that.”

Tugging Rhea forward, you blow Damian a chaste kiss before leading her off towards the dance floor. Your arrival with Rhea caused a loud cheer from her fellow wrestlers, a harmonious laugh parting your lips as you turned to face Rhea head on. Stretching up on your tiptoes to reach her ear you spoke loud enough for her to hear you over the music.

“You just need to loosen up, Dems. Relax..”

Nipping at the angle of her jaw playfully— you spin on your heels to press your back against her form, a soft hum parting your lips as Rhea leant down to press her lips against your temple.

“Dance with me.”

You called up to her, an eat shit grin claiming her kiss as you snaked you arm back around her neck to hold her lips against your skin.

“You’re going to get us in trouble.”

Rhea hummed against your temple as the DJ switched tracks— one of your favorite songs echoing throughout the nightclub, causing you to slowly move your hips back against her.

She wasn’t wrong. Every second you spent even remotely touching gave wondering eyes something to look at.

Keeping your hold secure around the back of Rhea’s neck, you roll your hips gently as they welcome the soft touch of her palms. Her fingers gripping at your exposed hipbones causing your head to press back against her chest. Her touch tingled at your skin, sending tremors up your spine as the two of you moved effortlessly with each other.

The dimly lit bar area was emptier than you’d expected for a Saturday night— most of the patrons packed onto the dance floor as the heavy bass echoed off the walls. You could barely see the table where Dom, Damian and Raquel sat, blissfully unaware of the conversation they shared.

“She said she wasn’t coming.”

Raquel called over the music, bringing her drink up to her lips as she refused to meet Damian’s gaze. The muscular male placed a singular digit on the edge of her glass, pushing it back down to the table before she could get a sip.

“Saying she’s not coming and actually not coming are two different things, Raquel. Where is she?”

No one had seen or heard from Liv since she’d disappeared earlier that day, no one except Raquel. Exhaling a long breath she finally lifted her gaze, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth a few times before she spoke.

“I don’t know. The hotel… maybe?”

A gust of air parted Damian’s lips as he ran his palms through long tendrils, his gaze lowering to the table only briefly until the sound of Dominik’s voice called out in distress.

“Dude. Tenemos un problema.”

As Damian’s gaze rose, the three turned towards the door to witness it close behind a very aggravated Liv Morgan. The tiny blondes jaw was clenched as she scanned the dance floor. She knew you were here and she knew who you’d be with.

Damian was on his feet before the others could even react. Crossing the bar in just a few strides, he gripped his palm around Liv’s shoulder just as she’d found her prey.

“Wouldn’t recommend it kid.”

Liv’s gaze snaps up towards Damian as she slaps his arm away from her shoulder, the words falling from her lips like a vipers venom.

“This doesn’t fucking concern you, Damian. So back off, yeah?”

Liv’s head cocks as a snarky scoff parts her lips, her gaze remaining fixed on him as she takes a step past and out of his way. She came here to make you see sense and that’s what she intended to do.

You hadn’t noticed Liv’s arrival, nor did you witness her confrontation with Damian— too lost in the fire Rhea’s touch sent through your veins. It wasn’t until the crowd of people around you started to part like the Red Sea that you spotted her. You couldn’t hide, avoid being seen. Her shimmering hues already fixed on your location as she shoved past the bar patrons before you.

“Get behind me.”

Rhea’s voice was in your ear as her arm pushed you out of Liv’s path and behind her back, her muscular frame shielding you from the fiery blonde as she approached.

“I TRUSTED YOU!”

Liv screamed as she squared up to Rhea with fire in her eyes, her palms slamming against Rhea’s chest with enough force that the taller female stumbled slightly.

“I FUCKING TRUSTED YOU.”

She shoved at Rhea’s chest again. The commotion catching the attention of everyone around as Liv continued to scream.

“YOU’RE A SNAKE. YOU POISONED HER.”

You couldn’t see what was going on, every time you moved to try and catch Liv’s gaze Rhea moved with you. She was determined to keep the two of you apart, unsure of just what Liv might do.

“What are you talking about.”

Rhea chortled, her gaze shifted to Bianca who had made her way to Liv’s side, exchanging a glance without words to the taller female Bianca grasped at Liv’s hand as she went in for another jab at Rhea’s chest.

“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME BIANCA, THIS ISN’T YOUR FIGHT.”

Rhea scoffed, glancing over the top of the feisty female to witness Damian and Dom enter the crowd. Liv couldn’t be serious, she wasn’t going to fight her in such a public space was she.

“Fight… please! A little munchkin like you, you don’t stand a chance.”

It was dangerous of Rhea to egg Liv on when she was this wound up, the tiny female never turned down a fight and Rhea’s cockiness more often than not got her in trouble.

“Demi don’t.”

Your hand grasped at the back of Rhea’s shirt, desperate for her to turn around and look at you. If you could just talk one of them down maybe you could solve this without any more shouting. Turning her head back to look at your petite frame over her shoulder, Rhea sighed as she caught a sight of your doe like hues begging her to stop.

“It’s okay, pretty girl. I can handle her.”

Rhea would soon come to regret those words. As she turned her features back to meet the angry little human, the air is knocked from her lungs as the hard surface of Liv’s balled fist collides with her jaw, causing Rhea to keel over in pain.

Your reaction time was faster than most, your slender figure sliding in between Liv and Rhea as Liv went in for another strike.

“GINNY, STOP IT!”

Keeping your gaze locked with Liv’s for a few moments— your lids not once blinking, eventually you turn to Rhea’s aid. Your palms cupping her cheeks to gently make her to look at you, your gaze searching her features for any sign of blood or bruising.

“Demi… hey, look at me.”

You could see the shock and rage that burn simultaneously behind Rhea’s eyes, her palm wiggling her jaw slightly as she began to stand up straight. You couldn’t let this continue, no one deserved to get hurt over you. Relieved to see Damian as he began to help Rhea to her feet, you spun on your heels with the intention to end this.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

You snapped.

“She knows what she’s done, stupid bitch.”

Liv spat, glaring over your shoulder as Dom held Rhea back. Her lips twisting into a malicious grin as she jerked herself in the direction of the judgement day.

“What’s a matter tough guy, worried I might hurt your precious Mami.”

You could feel the anger boil in your chest, the disrespect Liv was showing towards not only Rhea but her friends was more than you were willing to take.

“You know what Ginny, fuck you. Fuck your temper tantrums, fuck your mood swings, fuck your jealousy. You are not a child, if you’ve got a problem with Rhea and I being friends then just fucking tell me. I’m sick of this!”

You could sense Damian as he moves to stand behind you, Liv’s gaze flitting back and forth between the two of you as she scoffed a laugh.

“Friends… please. You’re still trying to convince me that your just FRIENDS.”

Your arm darted out to stop Damian as he attempts to intervene.

“It doesn’t matter Ginny, non of it fucking matters. My relationship is non of your god damn business, so believe whatever the fuck you want. I can’t deal with this anymore, I’m DONE!”

Taking a step back toward Rhea and Dom, you inhale a shallow breath— who knew this is how it would end.

Wrapping your forearm around Rhea’s waist, you curl into her chest as she envelopes you in her hold. Damian and Dom parting the crowd to allow the two of you space to leave the dance floor, you glance back at Liv for only a second before leaving her alone in a sea of judging eyes.

“I’m sorry, Dems. I’m so sorry.”

You whispered to Rhea as you remained curled into her side, crossing the nightclub towards the exit with Dom and Damian leading the way. You just wanted to go back to the hotel, to take care of Rhea and forget all about Liv’s actions.

But Liv had other plans.

#rhea ripley #demi bennett #wwe #wwe womens wrestling #wwe smackdown #rhea #ripley #rhea x reader #fem!reader #backlash #wwe backlash #puerto rico #san juan #damian priest #forbidden love #forbidden love series #an unexpected guest #my writing #my fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #herwwegirl

[steddieas-shegoes]

Sometimes I stare at a sentence that I (a native English speaker) wrote in English and I have to wonder how ANYONE ever learns this language as a second or third or any other language

This is the most ridiculous fucking language I’ve ever seen and it’s the only language I’ve ever spoken

#writing #personal #English is just so fucking stupid #my friend from Puerto Rico says her English isn’t very good looking a lot #well neither is mine and it’s my ONLY language so

[ghosttotheparty]

anyway puertorican will solace is strong in my mind he teaches nico bachata and nico is shockingly good at it

#maybe i’ll just project all my insecurities as a latino that doesn’t connect w my culture into will #he also Doesn’t Look Puertorican #(puerto rico is WILDLY ethnically diverse there’s literally no way to look puertorican) #but tans like a fuck ton when he spends time in the sun #he also isn’t fluent but randomly uses certain words and phrases in his daily life #he also loves tostones and mofongo #maybe i’ll write a fic just ab puertorican will #we’ll see #will solace #solangelo #just me talking

[thepaladincosplays]

When the volleyball gang goes to a haunted house, they find themselves in for a haunt or two to meet and greet them.

Commission for @kururu418

#thepaladinrambles #tales of mewni #callyieverse #commission #my commissions #writing commission #tony #gordon #helmut #akielah #rico #chris #dallas

[witchofthesouls]

Undercover jazz sounds fab if you ever Drabble I will read and love. Recently found your blog and I’m in love. That’s for being cool

(Aww thank you, anon! Here you go!)

"I don't believe you."

"What," he knew you wouldn't enjoy the truth, but he doesn't expect complete denial of the details lining up.

To be honest, Jazz didn't expect any of this. Not you on Earth. Not you caught in the recent battle. Not you rounded by his own bit in your forge.

You shrug, wrapping the sheet tighter, covering the swell of your midsection. He wonders if anyone else stepped up because you look dull with such a rounded belly. Strange, considering the close presence of Seekerkin...

Alright. Plan C then.

He shifts his weight. Looking careless as he tilts his helm to the side, arms crossed and leaning on a wall, his voice carries low and only between you and him.

"You're so good with your hands that you were an Underspeaker," and those red optics brighten but you say nothing at the words. "I clanged you over a bartop and finished in the alley to stop some thugs from taking advantage of a "claimed" 'con."

Your face is carved from steel, so he goes for the kill by activating the private comm.

:: You had a wild petrorabbit as a sparkling and you nursed it back to health. You cried when it went missing, but you knew what happened when your creators scraped together a hot meal for you and refused to look into your face. It was the most delicious thing you had for vorns and you still remember the taste of Quickjack. ::

There's that soft, sharp inhale, and your optics shutter. It's the same vulnerable look he'd seen when he woke up on a ledge off of Volpex to you hanging over him. The ship had malfunctioned and you plugged his systems from bleeding dry. There was no surety there would be a search party, so you and Ricochet told little, meaningless secrets in the dark...

"Nice try," you snap. "But it isn't going to work. Rico's got a cruel streak-" You're not wrong. Ricochet is one of his bloodthirster folders, "-so I'm not surprised you and him talk."

His brows are raised beneath the visor. Not quite right, but not totally wrong. Jazz and Ricochet (and so many covers with slivers of himself) are the same mech. "And why's that, sweetspark?"

"Simple." You say with utter conviction and Jazz knows he's not going to like the reason. "You and Ricochet are split-spark. And everyone knows split-sparks are strange mecha onto themselves."

Jazz can't do anything but gape at you through the bars.

#ask #transformers #transformers g1 #g1 #jazz #reader insert #con!reader #cybertronian!reader #pregnancy #sparklings #bitlets #injury #near death experience #mentions of death #My writing #dubcon #look ricochet is NOT a nice or good guy #but Rico would keep his “things” safe

[blueflyingturtleontheway]

Since I know Gabe is kinda your boy so “somehow, i expected that this would happen eventually” if you still have time

Yesss Gabe's absolutely my boy, thank you!

"Somehow, I expected that this would happen eventually." Gabe shook his head. He looked over Rico with a glare that could make mountains cower. "Traitor," he spat.

"Oh, I'm the traitor?!" Rico stabbed himself in the chest so hard it must've hurt. "You knew full well what you got yourself into!"

"You know what? You're right, I shouldn't have let you get here in the first place."

Rico barked out a short laughter.

"You really think you could've stopped me?"

"I know I could've... And I can still stop you now!" Gabe jumped from his seat.

"Oh yeah? I'd like to see you try!" Rico grabbed him by the collar.

"Get your hands off me..."

"If you think you're better..."

They started talking at the same time.

"I swear you'll regret it!"

"Guys!"

Naomi broke them up and pushed herself between them. Once she made sure they weren't going to bite each other's throats out anymore, she heaved a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I know it's the last taquito, but you can just share."

Thank you for requesting, can you believe that this was practically the first scenario that popped to my head when I saw your message XD

Prompt lists

#my post #answering asks #cartoonfangirl1218 #blue's writing requests #blue's writing #eoa #elena of avalor #gabriel nuñez #gabriel nunez #gabe nunez #gabe nuñez #rico villalobos #naomi turner

[riconas]

@myghemicalghostmance @media-noche

happy to announce the hotel room only had one bed.

sequel to this ficlet

It’s late when they get to the hotel. The only rule Papa tells them to abide by, albeit with very tired eyes and the air of a man who has seen too much for his time, is “don’t break anything.” Everybody looks very pointedly at Dewdrop as he says so. Aeon wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. 

He’s assigned a room with Rain, but knowing his packmates, on-paper roommates never really stay as they are. The moment keycards are distributed, he sees them swapping hands. He trails behind Rain all the way to the lift, while Dew and Aurora race to press the button first. 

“Swap with me,” Swiss says to him in an aside, holding his keycard between his index and middle finger. “I’m with Dew.” 

Aeon looks up at him gratefully. “You don’t mind rooming with Rain?” 

“I’d love to room with Rain,” Swiss purrs. “Rainy, come here.” 

Rain turns around. “What do you want?”

Swiss curls a hand around the back of his neck, pulls him closer, and puts his mouth right next to Rain’s ear to whisper something. Rain’s eyes go wide as he lets Swiss push him into a corner of the lift. Aeon strains his ears to listen, but he only catches tonight, can’t walk, and everyone knows. 

The tips of Rain’s ears go a deep maroon. Swiss smiles, and gives his neck an affectionate squeeze. 

“Here,” Swiss says cheerfully, placing his card in Aeon’s hand and nimbly plucking Aeon’s away. “Thanks, darling. I owe you one.”

The room is at the very end of the corridor, right before the suite Papa thankfully isn’t staying in. Aeon’s hands shake far too much when he taps his card. He wipes his palms on his jeans again, before pushing the door open and shouldering his way through with his duffel bag. 

Dew’s waiting for him already, splayed out on the queen-sized bed, shoes and leather jacket haphazardly strewn aside. He perks up upon hearing the door open. “Aeon? Hey! Leave your stuff. Check this out—this bed is so soft, come here.” 

Aeon kicks his shoes off, drapes his jacket over the back of a chair, and plods over to where Dew’s making snow angels on the bedspread. They showered at the venue, so they’re somewhat clean, and he can’t resist—he plonks down beside Dew, marvelling at the downiness of the duvet, rolling onto his side to grin stupidly at Dew’s pretty face. 

Papa is spoiling them. 

“Thanks for coming,” Dew says sweetly, his palm pressed to Aeon’s cheek. “I hope you haven’t forgotten. Swiss took a lot of convincing, you know.” 

Aeon rolls his eyes. Swiss is only next door, probably about to pound Rain into tomorrow and the day after. “Really? He seemed pretty happy to swap. For Rain, I mean. So he could be with Rain. Not because he didn’t want to room with you. Or anything.”

He’s babbling. He shuts his mouth, embarrassed, but Dew just laughs.

“‘Course he was! It’s ‘cause Rainy doesn’t fight like I do. He just lies there and takes it.” He smiles dreamily, holding out his arms. “Cuddle?”

Aeon slots himself against Dew’s chest and wraps himself around Dew’s twig-like body, octopus style. It’s cold outside, and it was freezing when they’d performed, but Dew’s like a furnace, a life-sized heating pad. He presses himself as close as he can, chest-to-chest, hip-to-hip, nestling his head in the junction of Dew’s neck and shoulder. 

“Kiss me there,” Dew breathes, petting over Aeon’s hair, so Aeon presses his lips to Dew’s blistering pulse, laying a trail of kisses all along the line of his throat. Dew sighs happily, wrapping his legs around Aeon’s hips, tilting his head back to expose more of his lovely skin. “That’s so nice,” he says, as he threads his fingers into Aeon’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “That’s so nice, keep doing that.” 

Emboldened, Aeon scrapes his teeth over Dew’s collarbone, leaving the tiniest nick in his wake. He isn’t sure if he’s allowed to do that, but Dew doesn’t seem to mind, not with the way he gasps and arches and ruts sharply against Aeon’s crotch. He’s hardening up, cock pressing through his jeans. Aeon’s no better off. 

They go at it like that for a while, grinding and humping and breathing into each other's mouths, until Aeon whines so plaintively Dew stops in his tracks, pressing a finger against Aeon’s lips. Aeon wiggles in protest. 

“Go to my bag,” Dew says softly. “Second pocket. Bottle of lube. And take your clothes off.” 

Aeon scrambles to comply. He hears the delighted chime of Dew’s laughter behind him, the ruffling noises of Dew shucking his t-shirt and pulling down his jeans. He didn’t think to prep himself before tonight, too caught up in Rain to bother getting ready. He wonders if Dew will be gentle, or if he’ll try to outdo Rain, or they’ll have to pay a fine for noise complaints. 

“Better hurry,” Dew calls. “I can hear Swiss and Rain next door. They’re getting pretty noisy already.” He catches the bottle Aeon throws at him, pops the cap, and drizzles a good amount onto his cock. “Come here. I wanna finger you.” 

Dew is vicious, Aeon realises. And stronger than he looks. He bites his knuckles and pulls his knees up to his chest as Dew scissors him open, watching him with a cocky smirk on his face, stripping him bare. It’s considerate, and efficient, but Aeon doesn’t want to wait any longer. 

“Can I touch myself?” he asks shyly. 

“No need to ask,” Dew replies, casual as anything, sliding his fingers out to circle Aeon’s rim before pressing back in with three. “I’m nicer than Rain.” 

Aeon grabs his cock, squeezes the shaft, cups his heavy balls in the palm of his hand. If he really listens, really concentrates, he can just about hear Rain’s heavy breathing through the walls, the muted slap of skin on skin. It spurs him on, gets him worked up. Gets him desperate. 

Dew pushes in without warning, holding his legs up and to the sides, and Aeon yelps in surprise. When he turns his head a little, he can see his feet beside his shoulders, flexed and tensed, toes curling reflexively. He rubs at his own nipples, pressing himself into the mattress as Dew sinks all the way down to the hilt and tucks his face beside Aeon’s to blow a hot puff of air right against the shell of his ear.

“You hear that?” he huffs, knocking Aeon’s hand away, pinching Aeon’s nipple and rolling the bud between his thumb and forefinger. “I think I hear Rain crying. Whining like a little bitch.”

Aeon whines too, scrabbling at Dew’s back. Dew isn’t moving, just keeping Aeon stuffed and still, and he’s heavier than he looks so Aeon can’t really move either. With Dew lying on him like a very uncomfortable weighted blanket, Aeon is helpless, and it’s driving him crazy. He worries Dew might just stay like that forever, might make Aeon cockwarm him until he goes soft. Desperately, he kicks his heels into Dew’s bony ass, and Dew scolds him by knocking a palm into his windpipe. 

Dew is most certainly not nicer than Rain.

“He isn’t crying,” Aeon pants, once he’s stopped coughing. “He’s tougher than that.”

“‘Kay,” Dew says flippantly. Then he’s pulling out and Aeon’s eyes go wide before he pushes in again, all at once, with a slap that makes Aeon flinch. He does it again, squeezing Aeon’s throat for leverage, gripping his hip until it hurts and Aeon has to jerk away. 

Satanas, Dew’s just as nasty as Rain. The cuddles were all a ploy to get him all soft and subservient, to knock his defences down, and he’s so gullible that it actually worked. He reaches to touch Dew’s stomach, tracing lightly over the lean contours of his abs, dragging his fingers up to tug at the rings through Dew’s nipples. He really likes them, likes how they make the buds all puffy if he tugs hard enough. 

(He’s heard there’s a ghoul at the abbey who knows his way around a needle and a taper. One of the older fire ghouls, if he remembers right. He makes a mental note to seek them out when he gets back.)

“Love your hole,” Dew breathes. “So tight. Squeezes my dick real good.” He rubs a palm over Aeon’s lower stomach, feeling for the shape of himself inside, and Aeon stares in wonder. Dew could have used more lube, he thinks, but he finds he doesn’t really mind the burn, doesn’t really mind the smudge of hurt.  

“You like using it?” Aeon asks daringly, squeezing around Dew's dick.

“Fuckin’ love using it,” Dew groans. “Perfect little cunt.”

Aeon closes his eyes. He doesn’t need to think about how hard that word made his dick kick. 

“Harder,” he says, touching Dew’s wrist. “I want it rough. Like Rain did today, in the dressing room.”

Hearing Rain’s name must snap something in Dew. Maybe it’s his competitive streak, or his possessive tendencies, but his voice loses its soft edge after that, turning sharp and ragged, like the edge of a broken rock. 

“Like Rain?” he snarls, grabbing Aeon’s throat and squeezing tight.

“Uh-huh,” Aeon replies, nodding as best he can. 

Dew snaps his hips hard, fucking him with brutal punches that have Aeon’s head spinning. “I’m fucking you and you’re thinking of Rain?” He spits Rain’s name like it’s a dirty word, a bad taste in his mouth. “Why don’t you go next door, then, if you want Rain so bad? Bet he’d love to use your dirty hole. Maybe Swiss will join in, fuck your throat while he’s at it.” 

Aeon wants to tell Dew to keep it down, that he’s being too loud, that the hotel is way too nice for this and they’re going to get funny looks at breakfast tomorrow, but between the cruel jab of Dew’s cock and the growing ache in his gut, he loses the words before they get past his tongue. He presses his face into the pillow and twists his fingers into the sheets, trying not to look too smug, lest Dew discover this is what he wanted all along. 

“You’re better,” he says instead, cock-drunk and stupid. “You make me feel better than he did.”

Dew laughs out loud. “Then you’d better make me cum. Treat me better than you treated Rain, alright? You hear me?”

Aeon hears him, loud and clear. He clenches as hard as he can, revelling in the sting of Dew’s shaft catching on his rim and the stilted gasp Dew lets out. His own cock is hard against his stomach—he’d gotten no relief after Rain used him earlier, and it’s catching up with him now. He spits on his hand and grabs his dick, thumbing underneath the slit, polishing the head with his palm. He’s waited so long. 

Dew shifts, and the change in angle puts his cock right up against Aeon’s prostate, neglected until now. Aeon grits his teeth to stifle his moan, gripping the sheets so hard he fears he may rip them. 

“You’re mine,” Dew snarls, pistoning his hips like a fucking machine, so hard Aeon nearly bounces off the mattress with each thrust. “You don’t think about anyone else when I’m fucking you, you understand?”

“Yes,” Aeon says, his voice cracking.

Dew slaps him. “Yes who?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Aeon gasps. 

Over in the next room, Rain wails. 

#rain doesn't watch (unfortunately) but hopefully this makes up for it #what is a ficlet? not this #1.9k nonsense #rico writes #aeon x dew

[ricopop]

more. vital asimsts. .. UVH!!!MMM GEOCITIES 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤!!!

sorry for fhs tags its tradition i think ugnm inspo by @superbellsubways and @cephalonheadquarters ^_^ !!!!! super lazy stephanie .sorry.. . art block 🤤

#also i. dont think she has a canon name so i just chose one for her lololololol #also geocities uses they/it protons i forgot to write that 💔 #clippy #virtual assistants #webcore #kevin #I NEED TO DRAW KEVIN ! ! ! ugh #ocs #rico art #coolio

[venus-lights]

Burlería zine by omarysfont:pudimcereza // get one at https://ohmynews.bigcartel.com

#zines #illustration #creative writing #literatura comparada #babushka #independent artist #puerto rico #support artists

[itsrheasgirl]

AN UNEXPECTED GUEST - PART 4

Chapter 2 for Forbidden Love series. The Forbidden Love series follows a relationship between Rhea x Reader.

•

The Reader has a strong friendship with Liv Morgan.

•

Liv is in love with The Reader but hasn’t told them.

•

fem!reader - rhea x reader.

mentions of raquel x reader.

•

@rheasbaee @riverscyberwife @you-got-me-star-lost-16 @innagnv @bittersweetastoria @chillinbri @call-me-a-simp @sithfar @rooskaya-yelena @half-of-a-gay @teenagedramaqueenlisa @gabrielleskyelar @hit-the-dirt-and-get-back-on @bl0w-m3 @l0v3e1i

•

You pulled Rhea into your room so fast that the taller female collided harshly against your petite frame— forcing a gust of air from your lungs. Your wrist flicking to close the door behind her, as both your arms wound around her waist in a tight embrace.

“—Hi.”

Rhea laughed softly, her own arms winding around your torso as you nuzzled against her chest. You always felt so at peace when Rhea held you, the sweet scent of her perfume intoxicating.

“What did Liv want?”

You hadn’t stopped worrying about why Liv had gone to Rhea’s room, trying to convince yourself that it was nothing— that they were just hanging out, but you couldn’t shake the fear.

“Straight to the point, huh?”

Rhea chortled, resting her chin down against your head.

“You don’t need to freak out, pretty girl.”

Unwrapping your arms from around Rhea’s waist, you lean back slightly within her hold to place your palms down against her chest. Your gaze meeting hers as a manicured brow arches.

“Freak out… I’m not freaking out.”

The tone in your voice was clearly higher than usual, the speed of your heartbeat increasing as you kept your gaze fixed on Rhea, the warmth behind her features causing a soft smile to tug at her lips.

“Riiiight.”

She chortled— her lips kissing softly against your forehead and her palms moving to cup around your jaw, she tilted your head back to press her lips against the cushion of your own in a quick peck.

“She just wanted to apologize. For last month. Trust me, there is nothing to worry about.”

Rhea lied as her sapphire gaze sparkled down at you, a wave of emotions crashing on her like a ton of bricks. She kept her features warm and comforting, as she battled with herself in her subconscious. You have to tell her, she deserves to know the truth before you fall too deep. One side shouts, the other returning a rebuttal. Don’t be ridiculous! You want her and you know you do. This isn’t your fault. Liv was just too late.

- - - - - - - - - - -

“I call shot guuuuun.”

Liv shouted as she ran through the lobby— bag in hand, as you followed along behind her with Rhea and Raquel. A small laugh leaving the two females that walked either side of you, you shake your head slowly. Liv always seemed so happy, constantly full of energy. How she wasn’t embarrassed about being so bubbly in public, you had no idea.

Sneaking a quick glance over at Rhea as you made your way to the car, you take note of her slightly sullen features. It was clear she’d wanted to sit up front with you, but was taking the hit to avoid issues. I’m sorry you mouthed, the two of you separating as your walked round the front of the car to the drivers side. Slotting her suitcase behind the back seats, Rhea hops over the door and drops down in the seat behind you— her brows arching slightly as she spots everyone staring at her.

“What?”

She questioned, shifting her glance between each individual in front of her. Looking at Rhea dead on and then down at the door handle, Raquel pulled the door open as she looked back up in Rhea’s direction.

“There’s no roof.”

Rhea stated, point a lone finger up towards the sky with a raised brow.

“Why bother with the door?”

All four of you burst into laughter as Raquel drops down in her seat, your head shaking gently as you turn the key in the ignition and start up the car.

You enjoyed hanging out with the girls, being part of a group that just jelled well together. It wasn’t often that you were all in the same place, usually only when larger fights were in the works. But it always gave you something to look forward too, seeing Liv was always fun— but seeing all of them was better.

WWE always made sure their champions were closely located to the arena— saved on travel time, so you didn’t have to spend too long listening to Liv sing along with the radio out of key. You glance flitting up to meet Rhea’s in the rear view mirror, a warm smile capturing your features as you saw her watching you. Of course you’d much rather she was in the front with you, but challenging Liv over a shot gun was like challenging a child. You weren’t going to win.

Taking a quick glance over in Liv’s direction, you’re relieved to see her leaning against the door frame watching the world go by. Giving you the perfect timing to slip your palm between your seat and the door and back in Rhea’s direction, a soft smile claiming your features as you feel her fingers winding with yours.

It wasn’t the smartest move for you to be showing Rhea any kind of attention with Liv in such close proximity, but you weren’t going to let your trip go to waste. You’d come to San Juan for her after all. But with Liv distracted you had to seize the opportunity— little did you know you hadn’t gone completely unnoticed. Raquel’s gaze catching your little interaction, the muscular female did her best to not react, her lips pressing into a tight line in order to suppress her smile.

“So Y/N..”

Rhea states, leaning forward into the back of your seat to wrap her free arm around your chest— attempting to hide your conjoined palms.

“You gonna sit ring side this time? It’s a much better view.”

You knew exactly what Rhea was doing, she wanted you to be ring side. She wanted you there for support, so she could have you there when she won— it had nothing to do with the view.

Removing your hold on Rhea’s palm— in order to keep one hand on the wheel, you pat it down gently against her forearm a few times before shooting her and Raquel a look in the rear view mirror.

“Ooooh no can do, Ripley. I’ve already made plans to watch backstage with Liv and Rocky. Right girls?”

You watch Rhea roll her eyes playfully, a glimmer of disappointment flashing in her crystal gaze as she releases a faux huff before leaning back into her seat. Sure she was pretending to be upset for Liv and Raquel, but you could tell it wasn’t all fake. You just hoped she wasn’t actually upset with you.

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

Zelina Vega was a spitfire, small and agile— but when it came to down to standing face to face with Rhea Ripley, she didn’t stand a chance.

Your slender legs rested in Liv’s lap as you all sat with your gaze locked on the big screen, you waited patiently for Rhea’s match to start. Loud cheers for the smackdown woman’s champion rang in your ears as she made her way to the ring— of course they’d sent her in first.

“Y/N…”

You hadn’t notice as Liv repeatedly tapped her palm against your shin, your gaze shifting from the tv to the bubbly blonde as she continued her motion.

“Did you hear me, I want some water.”

You raised your brow slightly, watching as she continued to tap against your leg.

“Do.. do you want me to get it?”

Liv chortled softly, pushing your legs off her lap before rising to her feet and spinning back to face you.

“No I got it.”

Without another word Liv disappears from the back room, leaving you alone with Raquel.

You slowly turn your gaze over to where Raquel sat, a slight tingle of confusion washing over you as you find the fellow female staring at you. The corners of your lips twitch into a nervous smile before your tongue parts them to coat each with moisture. What was she looking at? Your brows furrowing and your nose crinkling, you can’t help the small chortle that vibrates from your chest.

“Why are you staring at me?”

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching you both, Raquel hoped up from her chair and hurried over to the couch where you sat confused. She was full of energy— her features glowing with excitement as she dropped down on the couch beside you, her muscular arm swinging round your shoulder before giving it a gentle squeeze.

“So…”

So.. so what? Your brows remained arched as your confusion grew, your gaze flitting from Raquel’s hold on your shoulder and back up to her features a few time.

“This should be a good match, don’t you think? Zelina doesn’t stand a chance against Rhea.”

You chewed nervously on your lower lip, glancing back towards the tv as the bell rang and the match began. You were always on edge when watching Rhea fight— whether it be in person, or at home alone on your couch. What if she got hurt? Seriously hurt and it left her out of action. Rhea worked so hard to be where she was and the idea of her having to take a step back always worried you.

“Ye.. yeah, she’s got this.”

You were still confused as to why Raquel was so close to you, still holding on to your shoulder as she gently jabbed a singular finger into your ribs.

“You care about her.”

Your eyes widen instantly as you snap your gaze away from the tv and round to lock with Raquel’s own chestnut hues. Shifting your entire frame over on the couch a few inches, your turn yourself inwards to face her head on. What did she mean by care? You cared for Liv, you cared for her. Did she mean you cared for Rhea in the same way?

“She’s alright.”

Raquel dropped her features in a do I look like an idiot manors, a singular manicured brow arching slightly as she watched you begin to fidget with your fingers in your lap. A soft laugh of discomfort parting your lips as you tried your best to act natural.

Slowly placed one palm down over your hands, Raquel gave it a gentle squeeze of encouragement. You didn’t need to be so timid with her, she understood what nerves felt like.

“I saw you guys in the car, on the way here. You were holding hands.

A lump formed in your throat as Raquel spoke, struggling to swallow it down as you tried to process what to say next. You could deny it. Say you had no idea what she was talking about. But what would be the point?

“Please don’t tell Liv.”

Your voice was quiet, the words leaving your lips in barely a whisper. You still hadn’t had the time to talk with Rhea one on one about your relationship. Could you even call it that? Fooling around didn’t always mean something and until you’d spoken with Rhea, you didn’t want anything becoming public.

“I got you.”

Raquel chortled. Tapping her palm down against your knee, she gave your leg a little shake before returning her gaze towards the tv. The room was fairly silent as the small groups of wrestlers chat amongst themselves, some watching the match just like you as others prepared for their own.

You didn’t know if Raquel could be trusted to keep your secret from Liv, but you believed she wouldn’t betray you and that’s all you needed to relax.

“She’s pretty popular now, huh?.”

Raquel uttered, not too loud but loud enough for you to hear. The corners of your lips twitching into a coy smile as you kept your gaze fixated on Rhea through the screen. She had blown up around the world and you were so proud of how loved she was.

You hadn’t been keeping tabs on the time that past, unaware of Liv’s return to the room. She was like a ninja, always popping up in places without a sound. Water bottle in hand she paused in her tracks as you spoke, your words causing her to swallow harshly.

“She’s… important. Incredible really.”

She’s important. The words that fell from your lips stung in Liv’s chest, a red hot pinch piercing her heart like a knife. She couldn’t breath, her delicate palm gripping tightly around the bottle of water in her hand. She’s important! Her subconscious screamed, causing the tiny blonde to stumble backwards a few steps.

Without a word, Liv backed up slowly. Rage boiling under her skin like fire, she bit down tightly on her lower lip as to stop herself from making a scene.

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, it couldn’t be a coincidence.

You were in love with Rhea.

#rhea ripley #demi bennett #wwe #wwe womens wrestling #wwe smackdown #rhea #ripley #rhea x reader #fem!reader #raquel rodriguez #wwe backlash #backlash #puerto rico #san juan #wwe fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction #herwwegirl #forbidden love series #forbidden love #an unexpected guest #liv #morgan

[koa-international]

I’m going to be putting a full-length book with chapters and a continuous story for ‘Rico’ on my Wattpad and yeah ik Wattpad can be cringe but she’s cute and aesthetic sometimes okay?….

Wattpad: @kxxxaa

#cod mw2 #call of duty #platonic imagine #platonic reader #rico #sergeant rico #may also write it up on my ao3 we’ll see #and yeah wattpad is cringe but so am i 🤞🏽😩

[laurandreawrites]

physical copies of my poetry chapbook came in! get yours now here!!!!

#poetry #poet #poetry chapbook #queer writers #writing life #am writing #bottlecap press #puerto rican writer #boricua writer #puerto rican literature #puerto rico literature

[ocean-blue-whump]

A Coach and a Canvas

For other Marlow posts: #marlow lancaster: wildcat

Taglist: ask to be added!

CW: gang setting, mentions of prior kidnapping, post fistfight

***

Marlow can still feel the blood pounding in her ears. She sits down on the bench in the locker room, holding a towel to the cut above her eye. Fuck, that was…something out there. Her heart is still racing from the fight. She doesn’t remember exactly how she got here, how this ended up happening, but a few nights ago, she met a guy who put her down on a schedule and told her to show up at this address. 

Not even an hour ago, she was standing in front of a metal door with no idea what she got herself into. She was the first fight of the night, facing off against a big, muscular woman. It was…Marlow doesn’t know what happened. She had kept light on her toes and bounced around, and eventually, the woman tired out. A few well placed punches to the jaw and chest had her on the ground with the crowd roaring. 

It was still a hard fight. The woman was strong enough that every single hit she landed hurt like hell, leaving bruises and splitting Marlow’s skin open. 

Marlow bends over and spits a mouthful of blood into the towel, then puts it back to her head. The adrenaline is still coursing through her body. Listening to the spectators…she doesn’t think she’ll forget it any time soon. It was fucking addicting, the power that surged through her when she stood up from the sawdust-covered ring, blood dripping from her face, bruises forming on her bare torso. She wants to bottle that feeling and breathe it in over and over. 

She’s so lost in her own thoughts that she doesn’t notice the other person in the locker room until he clears his throat. Marlow jumps a little bit, wiping her face with the bloody rag. “Oh, sorry. Can I…help with something?”

The man isn’t too tall, his jet black hair slicked back and his goatee neatly groomed. He’s muscular, in a skin tight gray shirt and black joggers. He smiles warmly at her, his hands in his pocket. “Marlow, right? You fought Misty tonight?” 

“If that was her name, yeah.” Marlow sets the rag down, hoping she doesn’t look like a maniac with blood all over her face. “I did my best.”

“Have you been trained before?” the man asks, sitting down on the bench next to her. “I mean, you won, but it was…rough.” He laughs a little, smiling at her. “So did you have formal training or informal or nothing?”

Marlow stares at the ground, lacing her bruised hands together. “Umm, nothing. I just kind of waited until she got tired.”

“Smart move. The bigger someone is, the more likely you’ll be able to wear them off. You also took hits pretty well. Of course, you’re bleeding now, but you were good at keeping calm when she decked you. Got back up pretty quickly.” The man stands up and moves in front of Marlow, leaning against the lockers. “I have to be honest with you, Marlow. I don’t really care about making small talk. At this point, you probably realized we work outside of the law here, but there’s profit in it. Tonight, you fought on a small ticket independently. There wasn’t any money in what you did. You were like an appetizer for the bigger events. You came into this independently, but the fighters on the big tickets aren’t independent. Most of them work under a coach, and really, there are only four coaches that matter here. Four of us train, manage, and support the biggest fighters in the arena.” He smirks at her, holding her gaze confidently. “I’ve been looking for a new fighter. The problem is that there are two main groups of people. The first are good fighters, yeah, but they’ve been trained before. They’re damaged canvases. What I can teach won’t matter because they already have their habits. The other group is untrained, yet shows no potential and no skill and no will to learn. You’re in a third group. You’ve got a lot of skill, and you’re a very, very appeasing blank canvas. No one will see a girl like you coming, and with my help, I can make you a legend here. The crowd you had tonight? Don’t play dumb, Marlow. I know you loved it, and when I make you a big ticket fighter…there’s nothing quite like it. You’ll have all those people hanging on every little move you make. My name is Rico Lochan, and I’m the best of the four top coaches. I can take you to the top. I can make you lethal, and all you have to do is say yes.”

Marlow listens to Rico’s speech and tries to absorb as much of it as she can. Everything he’s saying sounds promising…too promising. “What’s the catch?” she asks, crossing her legs at the knee. 

Rico chuckles. “I’m glad you asked. I’d be worried if you didn’t. The catch, Marlow, is that…I’ve tried to train others to be my prodigy, and, well, let’s just say I’ve gotten mixed results. A lot of people can’t handle what it takes to be the best. They don’t want to give themselves to this life. Devotion is a difficult thing to come by these days. And, of course, I’m not an easy man to work with. You look about college age, I won’t interfere with your classes, but I will ask you to give me everything you have. I’ll push you to your breaking point, Marlow, and you’ll either sink or swim.” Rico shrugs, his voice still light. “To be honest, there’s something in your eyes, kid. I’m not going to make assumptions about who you are, but there is just something about you. I’ve tried fifteen other trainees to find a prodigy. Not one of them, after winning their first fight, had that smile on their face when they one. Not one of them would have kept getting up after taking the beating you did.”

“I’m eighteen,” Marlow says in a hoarse voice, looking up at him. When he doesn’t stop her, she keeps talking. “I’m eighteen years old. You don’t need to know where I’m from or anything else about me, but you do need to know that breaking me down isn’t possible. I don’t know what weak ass bitches you tried to train before me, but I’m nothing like them.” She stands up from the bench and all she can think about is what it felt like to stand over Misty with blood hands and hear people roar for her. There was so much peace in that violence. Marlow hasn’t felt calm…ever, especially not since the kidnapping incident. That is, until she caught the underside of Misty’s chin with an uppercut. There was calm in her muscles burning and her body begging her to stop. “You want a fighter, I can learn.”

“Good girl,” Rico says with a smile. “First thing’s first. I can call you Marlow, but your name to anyone else, coaches or other fighters, is a weakness. People do bad shit if they see someone threatening their winning streak. You need a name. Marlow Lancaster doesn’t belong here. She’s a weak little girl. Wildcat, on the other hand…that’s a name people could bet on.” His grin is slow and wicked and dark and Marlow’s heart is going to beat right out of her chest. “Say it, Wildcat. Tell me what you’re doing here. Give yourself to me and I’ll make you the most powerful woman in this whole fucking city.”

Marlow focuses her energy on Rico. There’s no room for fear, and yeah, she could beat Misty, but that’s not enough. She needs to protect herself because she never wants to be a scared girl kidnapped by a serial killer again. “I give myself to you,” she says, green eyes cold. “Body and soul, Rico. I want to fight. So push me. Teach me how to win here. Teach me how to fight.” 

Rico steps forward, holding Marlow's chin and tipping her head up. He examines her, tilting her face around, his eyes lingering over the streaks of blood and blossoming bruises. “We’ll make something out of you, Wildcat. Tomorrow, four in the morning. Meet me here and we’ll go over your schedule.” He lets go of her chin and starts walking towards the door, but stops with his hand on the handle. “Clean yourself up and hide those stupid fucking bruises. No trainee of mine walks around looking like that from such an amateur fight. Getting beat by fucking Misty. You might have won, but that performance is nothing to be proud of.” 

Marlow watches him slam the door, her head spinning. His mood changed so fast, but his voice still stayed light. In five seconds, he brought Marlow’s fantasy crashing back down to earth. She brings her hand to her face, suddenly aware of how she looks. “Fuck…” she mutters, staggering over to the sink. The girl who stares back at her is bloody and bruised and exhausted. Not a fighter. 

It’s been ages since she’s slept well. It’s been so long since she’s felt anything other than helpless. The girl in the mirror isn’t anywhere close to a wildcat, but Marlow has to try. She splashes some water on her face, puts on her jacket, grabs her bag, and steps out into the night, fishing in her pocket for a cigarette. 

#marlow lancaster #marlow lancaster: wildcat #whump writing #lady whump #rico lochran #blue's words