My name's Nicole. I write fanfics for Chris Evans & sometimes WWE 》Heart of Glass series (Coming Soon!) 》 DO NOT POST ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!! 》My Main Blog 》Heart of Glass Playlist 》 Masterlist
I am once again reminding people that it wasn't unusual to have this sort of politics on the radio in the 2010s. It's not ahead of its time, your culture just got fascist since then.
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Introducing the official cast of my work in progress, In Too Deep:
Devyn Thorne
WWE Superstar; nicknamed "The Anomaly"; 4-time WWE Women's Champion, 2-time NXT Women's Champion, 2022 Royal Rumble Winner, 1-time WWE Women's Tag Team Champion
Damian Priest
Devyn's best friend/love interest; WWE Superstar; known as The Archer of Infamy; member of The Judgment Day faction; former NXT North American Champion, 1-time United States Champion, 2-time Undisputed Tag Team Champion, Señor Money in the Bank
Rhea Ripley
aka Mami; Devyn's best friend; WWE Superstar; member of The Judgment Day; current WWE Women's World Champion, 1-time NXT Women's Champion 1-time WWE Women's Tag Team Champion, 2023 Royal Rumble
Adonis Toussaint
Nicknamed Donni; Devyn's fraternal twin brother; NFL running back and 4-time Superbowl MVP; played for New England Patriots & Tampa Bay Buccaneers, currently plays for Philadelphia Eagles
Kandice Broussard-Toussaint
Donni's wife & the mother of his twin boy Elijah & Cason; Devyn's sister-in-law; former Boston Celtics cheerleader
Cason Toussaint aka C.J. Thorne
Devyn's father; Grammy award winning singer-songwriter and guitarist; front man for rock band Blackstone
Simone Kingston-Toussaint
Devyn & Adonis' mother; C.J's wife & childhood sweetheart; professional chef and baker; owner of Joie De Vivre Restaurant; owns & runs Diaspora Ranch
Lyric Rieux
Devyn's childhood best friend; Fashion Designer & Co-founder/Creative Director of L.O.R.E. (has made all of Devyn's ring gear); father is the bass player for Blackstone
Vega Adeoye
Devyn's best friend; tattoo artist & business owner, owner of Vines & Ivy tattoo shop, a female operated tattoo shop in Orlando & Miami, plans to open a third shop in Houston
Additional characters include Zelina Vega, Bianca Belair, Finn Balor, Liv Morgan, Raquel Rodriguez, Jey Uso, Cathy Kelly, Dominik Mysterio...
More characters to follow throughout the story...
✨Leave a comment if you wish to be tagged in future parts✨
I'm Amal, a mother of three children, living under the weight of the genocide taking place in Gaza. 🍉
Here’s my story, and I’m reaching out with a hopeful heart 💔✨, hoping someone will feel what my family and I are going through.
My son is suffering from a severe and life-threatening injury after being shot by Israeli drones. He urgently needs medical treatment outside Gaza.
Time is running out, and we are facing a critical situation. I am asking for your generosity to help us save him either through a donation or by sharing this urgent plea with others
I beg you, i kiss your feet, to help my son. My son may die at any moment.
I lost most of my family. I'm afraid to lose my son too 🥺
Mohammed deserves to live a happy and healthy life, just like every other child on this earth.
So I humbly ask you to donate even a little or at least reblog this appeal.
➔ Pairing — CM Punk ♡ f!Reader ♡ Seth Rollins
➔ Summary — On their one year anniversary, Reader remembers how she and Punk became she, Punk, and Seth.
➔ Word Count — 2.6k
🛑Warnings — NSFW. Mention of stalking/attempted kidnapping, threesome, dirty talk, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v, cum. 18+
➔ Notes — Reader has a name, but no other descriptors.
➔ Taglist — If you’d like to be added, please click here!
➔ Support — Buy me a coffee! ☕
➔ MASTERLIST
It's been a while since I've written/posted anything. I don't believe this is my best work, but I'm proud that I was able to write it and edit it and now post it. I hope you all enjoy, and thank you so much for the continued support! ❤️
It started because Lena had left the hotel room alone, Punk snoring on his side of the bed, to retrieve her forgotten earbuds in the rental vehicle.
It started because she’d let her guard down, thinking nothing could happen to her in the parking lot of a hotel.
It started because she never even made it to the SUV, a pair of huge arms capturing her, yanking her feet from the ground.
It started because, as she was flung through the air and manhandled toward a dingy black van, she’d spotted a mess of blonde hair in the distance.
It started because she’d bit one of the fingers of the hand covering her mouth, inflicting enough pain for it to loosen its grip, and she’d screamed, at the top of her lungs. “Seth!”
It started because Seth had spun around, the blood-curdling scream splitting his eardrums.
It started because he’d dropped his bags, even his phone, which shattered upon glancing off the pavement, and sprinted toward the scene.
It started because Seth had thrown a punch at her attacker’s face, yanking her roughly by the shoulder and then shoving her out of the way before climbing onto the man’s back, one thick arm around his neck, the other hooked around his wrist to apply even more pressure. “Call the police,” he’d told her, the assailant throwing them both to the ground, Seth losing all his air in a loud whoosh as the big man landed on top of him, but he never once relented his grip.
It started because Seth had held her attacker until he’d passed out, until the police arrived, until Seth was positive he wouldn’t be able to get at her again. And then he’d held Lena as they’d both answered questions despite the pain in his chest and back.
Her memory from a little over a year ago was interrupted by a shuffling Seth Rollins. She turned to look at him, eyes having adjusted to the darkness long ago, and he’d rolled from his side facing her to his back. The sheet threatened to slide off his bare hips any moment, the Vs at his waist on delectable display, and she followed the trail of dark hair from his belly button to his beard. She pressed a soft kiss to his exposed neck, nuzzling the skin behind his ear with her nose, and her smile grew as his hand lifted, then fell, resting atop hers on his chest.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Seth mumbled something that sounded like I love you, and she kissed his cheek. Untangling herself from the same sheet barely covering Seth, she maneuvered her way toward the other side of the bed, toward the other man sharing the space with her. The man she was sleeping with long before Seth was added to the relationship—CM Punk. He was stretched out on his stomach, face scrunched into the pillow, hair sticking up in every direction, and if it was possible, her grin broadened.
“Go to sleep,” Punk suddenly mumbled, eyes still closed.
“Is that a threat?” Lena giggled.
Punk sighed, lids lifting. “Why are you awake?”
“Because it’s our anniversary.”
Punk’s brows rose and he nodded, his own smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he rolled onto his back, sliding his arm under her and pulling her to his chest. “But we’re not celebrating until tomorrow,” he rasped, shamelessly groping her bare ass.
She pressed her face into his sharp, salt-and-pepper beard. “But it is tomorrow,” she argued. Her small, soft hand caressed the firm planes of his chest, fingers dancing along his tattoos, flicking his nipple, snickering when he shied away and covered it with his free hand.
“Are you really horny at—” Punk turned his wrist, maintaining a shield over his nipple while he read the digital display of his smartwatch. “—four o’clock in the morning?”
Lena glared at him. “Come talk to me when you have to sleep between the two sexiest women in the world every night.”
“Is that an option?” Punk feigned excitement.
“I’m switching places with Seth.”
“No!” both men exclaimed.
She threw her head back laughing, her heart swelling, aching, even though both these beautiful men belonged to her in every single way possible—heart, mind, body, soul. Never, in a million years, would she have imagined she’d end up with two men who loved her as she loved them. She wanted Seth just as much as Punk—her heart occupied with equal parts Visionary and Saint. She had no idea where any of it would lead—the three of them avoiding, like the plague, conversations about the future and what it might be like—but none of that seemed more important than the present.
It started because Lena had wanted to thank Seth for saving her life, though both Seth and Punk—for different reasons, she imagined—had told her it wasn’t necessary.
It started because she’d gotten her way. She and Punk had dressed up—him in a crisp, black shirt, black pants, and sneakers she’d done everything in her power to get him not to wear; she in a black dress, hair, makeup, and jewelry pristine as always, and as she’d stepped out of the bathroom, pulling on a pair of lacy, elbow-length gloves, Punk held up a finger. “Alright, I'm having a hard enough time with the dress. I draw the line at the sexy gloves,” he’d said. She’d gently squeezed his mouth between her lacy fingers, kissing his puckered lips before saying, “You’re so cute when you draw imaginary lines that mean nothing.” She’d grabbed a handful of his balls with her free hand, Punk’s eyes snapping shut, an audible mmph resonating in his throat.
It started because Seth had also dressed to the nines in a starched white shirt unbuttoned at the neck, black suit jacket, black slacks, and, thank god, black, shiny dress shoes. His hair had been in a sleek brown and blonde bun near the crown of his head. She’d expected him to treat this dinner as a joke and to show up in one of his more ridiculous suits and spend the entire evening cackling like the Wicked Witch of the West. But he’d looked absolutely beautiful and he’d presented himself like a true gentleman, and she’d stared and admired, openly, for longer than she’d liked.
It started because Seth had chosen a beautiful booth all three of them could comfortably sit on, Lena in the middle of course, and she’d become so lightheaded by the men’s imposing frames, by the colliding of their respective musks and colognes, of the sheer heat they threw off, that she’d nearly passed out.
Punk yanked her on top of him until she straddled his hips, her soft, bare pussy resting on his equally soft, bare cock. Smirking, because if it hadn’t been Punk to snatch her up, it would have been Seth—she’d be the first to confess she was utterly spoiled by these men and she enjoyed every single moment and she would never do anything to disrupt this very important aspect of her life. Her hips rolled lazily back and forth, folds separating, Punk’s stiffening cock grazing along her already slick clit. Punk groaned under her, her hands planted on his unforgiving chest, his grabbing handfuls of her breasts, kneading, thumbs flicking her nipples, and as she threw her head back with a cry, she felt a third hand on her thigh. Just a comforting squeeze, a caress of Seth’s thumb—I’m right here, sweetheart, but I’m still not awake—her hand leaving Punk’s chest to clutch Seth’s hand.
“Sorry,” she lied. “I’m impatient and … I’m just so happy.” She leaned down, pebbled nipples brushing Punk’s warm skin, and his hand was on the back of her head, pulling her the rest of the way for a searing, excruciatingly slow kiss. Her hips picked up the pace.
“Annoying,” Punk rasped between kisses. “Don’t forget annoying.”
Lena disconnected their lips with a wet smack. “Seth,” she whined.
“He’s not wrong,” Seth mumbled in the darkness.
“You guys suck,” she scoffed, moving to climb off Punk, though she was in no hurry, and she didn’t put up much of a fight when Punk flung an arm around her and flipped her onto her back in the middle of the bed. She felt Seth’s heat again as Punk sat up and spread her thighs, smacking his thick cock against her already soaking pussy, orchestrating a nasty soundtrack that echoed off every surface.
“Fuck,” Punk stammered, abandoning his original plan of stuffing his cock inside her for the one where he fucked his tongue inside her instead.
Eyes falling closed, Lena’s back arched inches off the bed, one hand grabbing tufts of Punk’s already wild hair, the other gliding along Seth’s sculpted body as he climbed to his knees beside her head. Punk’s tongue was busy, experienced—lapping desperately at her free flowing juices, at her clit, her smooth lips, her thighs—revering every inch of her body that was within reach of his strongest muscle.
“Oh, my god,” she whimpered. “Baby, please.”
“Just relax, sweet girl,” Punk cooed, his beard scratching her exposed clit, the sensitive bundle of nerves sending a jolt throughout her body.
“And open your mouth,” Seth added.
Having complete trust in both men, she didn’t need to open her eyes before opening her mouth, happily accepting the familiar, fat head of Seth’s cock as it settled on her tongue. She closed her lips and sucked tenderly, cheeks hollowing, moaning at the tangy, delicious flavor of his precum dancing along her taste buds.
“There she is,” Seth sighed, one hand on the top of her head, the other cupping a breast, squeezing, and her groan vibrated along his dick, her hips rolling uncontrollably against Punk’s still working mouth.
It started because Lena and Seth had shared a few drinks at dinner, and following the drinks came a few seemingly innocent touches to his bicep and her shoulder. A gentle whisper into one ear, the soft response into the other. A tingle in her stomach that spread to her heart—a feeling incredibly similar to the one she’d had the first time she’d locked eyes with Punk.
It started because she’d turned to Punk, pupils blown, virtually gasping for oxygen, and she’d opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Punk had smiled, brushing the backs of his fingers along her burning cheek. “You wanna invite him back to the room?” he’d asked. After a moment, she’d nodded, always honest, and Punk had leaned closer, his lips grazing her earring. “Do you wanna fuck him?” She’d pulled away from him then so she could meet his gaze, so she could look into his gorgeous green eyes and know for certain that he wasn’t pissed or jealous or offering her a good time at the expense of his own sanity. “I wanna fuck you both,” she’d divulged, “at the same time.” She pressed her forehead to his. “Is that okay?”
It started because Punk’s eyes had met Seth’s over his girlfriend’s head. “I give her everything she wants,” Punk had told Seth, and Seth had nodded. “I don’t blame you,” he’d said. Punk had stood then, taking his girlfriend’s hand and helping her out of the booth. “It was the gloves, right?” Punk had asked Seth, and Seth’s eyes had rounded as he’d tilted his head. “Dude,” he’d agreed.
Seth clutched her wrists above her head as he fucked into her searing mouth, free hand now caressing her sunken cheek. After swallowing Lena’s first orgasm, Punk had finally buried his cock to the hilt in her still-pulsing pussy, coarse hands at the backs of her knees, spreading her legs until her hips screamed.
“Fucking look at her,” Punk breathed.
“I know,” Seth huffed. Her tongue undulated against his huge, weeping cock, gentle, rhythmic whimpers in the back of her throat matching Punk’s thrusts, and the Visionary wasn’t going to last much longer.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, baby,” Punk went on, releasing her legs, hands becoming vices on her tits, thumbs grazing her nipples. She threw her legs around his waist, squeezing, lifting her hips to meet each thrust, jaw aching as she sucked Seth. “Taking your boys at the same time.”
Her boys. She would never get enough of them referring to themselves as her boys. Even in a rather filthy position, and on the verge of cumming a second time, she still felt tears of love and joy pricking the corners of her eyes.
“You gonna take our cum, too?” Seth breathed. She nodded wildly, for the first time fighting against Seth’s restraint of her wrists so she could touch her boys. “Look at me.”
Her eyes popped open, instantly breaking the suction on his cock to cry out as she came without warning around Punk. Gazing up at Seth Rollins and his six-pack, the Vs she adored on both men, his hair barely held in place by the elastic tie, eyes fixed on her as he forced his dick as far down her throat as possible was more than enough to shove her over the edge.
“Fuck,” Punk hollered, “that’s it. Cum all over my dick, baby.”
Her eyes slid to her first love, and she couldn’t tell if she was cumming again or just still cumming, but her muscles quaked, watching Punk’s sweaty hair bounce against his forehead, biceps flexing as he fucked her onto his cock.
“Oh, fuck,” Seth whimpered, “oh, fuck …” He held the obscenity for as long as he shot his load into her mouth, easily filling the cavern to the point of overflow—tiny, pearly rivers seeping out of the corners, dripping indecently down her chin.
“Don’t you swallow,” Punk ordered, and she was suddenly a lot more careful to hold Seth’s cum in her mouth as he slowly removed his softening cock. “Don’t you swallow until I cum in this pussy.” She whined in the back of her throat, nodding nonetheless, quickly becoming overwhelmed by all the sensations suddenly being thrown at her—her pussy was hypersensitive and screaming more more more and to also please stop I can’t take it, her tongue was coated in sticky salt, mouth sore from the previous blowjob and now the responsibility of holding too much of something inside it, wrists screaming from an unrelenting grip Seth probably didn’t realize he was still inflicting.
But she wouldn’t trade a single fucking second.
“Fuck, you ready?” Punk asked. “Are you fucking ready, baby girl?”
Lena nodded, squirming, desperate now for him to finish, desperate to get away, desperate to feel his cum drip out of her cunt as she fell asleep, desperate to swallow Seth’s gift.
Punk wrapped a hand around her neck. “Swallow.”
She gulped, Punk’s thumb following its progress along her throat as he emptied his balls deep inside her pussy. His hips stuttered against her, watching Seth scoop up his cum from her chin to deposit it back into her mouth, and she swallowed once more. Eventually, Punk pulled out, gently pressing her legs together and laying them delicately on the bed as she rolled onto her side. He kissed her shoulder before heading to the bathroom, Seth touching his lips to the top of her head before following, and Lena’s eyes narrowed as Punk flipped on the bathroom light. The men were running water in the sink and gathering washcloths when she passed out from utter exhaustion and complete satisfaction.
The three of them had no idea the hell that awaited them only a few hours later.
I want all of us to pretend as if we are a writer for WWE and the year is 2017-2018.
Rather than have Asuka be down in NXT, she instead is immediately flung onto the main roster but still maintains her undefeated streak and persona of "NO ONE IS READY FOR ASUKA" life. You put Asuka in the Fatal 5-Way match for the RAW Women's title at No Mercy 2017 and have Asuka win the title, beginning this undefeated arc that will not end until WrestleMania 34.
WHO DO YOU HAVE TAKE HER PLACE WINNING THE FIRST EVER WOMEN'S ROYAL RUMBLE???
(keep in mind the other champion at the time was Charlotte)
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*Thank you so much for the wonderful feedback on the first chapter! It means the world to me. 💕
I'm not sure how long to make these chapters so if you'd like them a little longer, let ya girl know!
Read Part 1 Here
Part 2
Josie stretched languidly as she padded into the kitchen the next morning, the cool tiles soothing beneath her feet. She tugged the curtains open on the small kitchen window, letting the soft morning light spill in and dance across the countertops. Through the glass, she caught sight of Tama, effortlessly carrying a surfboard across the bright white sand. The scene brought a smile to her lips; Tama seemed to exude an air of carefree ease, like a gentle breeze weaving through the trees, embodying the essence of a true free spirit.
His presence hung with her as she filled the kettle and leaned against the counter, watching him more closely than she would care to admit. She couldn’t help but wonder what her life might look like in a few months—who she'd be when this town and its people had finished working their way into her heart.
The phone rang suddenly, jolting her from her thoughts. She scrambled to answer, “Hello?”
“Didn’t wake you up, did I?” Violet’s voice sang on the other end.
Josie laughed. “No, I’m up…” Her smile was audible.
“Good! Lunch at my place? Some of us are dying to needle you with invasive questions and feed you obscene amounts of food.”
Pausing for a split second, Josie glanced out the window again. She could see Tama now, planted near the surf's edge, his board upright in the sand beside him. “Sounds perfect,” she replied, heart thumping in agreement.
She reached up for a mug, running her fingers over the handle as she poured herself some coffee. It wrapped comfortably in her hands, an old favorite in this new place.
She joined Tama at the beach, still in pajamas and holding two steaming cups. He waved from the shore as he waded out from the waves.
“Mornin'!” His voice was bright and teasing when he finally reached her. “Ready to take on the ocean yet?”
“Doesn’t it know I’m new in town?” she asked, sidestepping his playful splash of water toward her legs.
He grinned, expertly drying off with a towel and accepting the coffee she offered. “Maybe it’s just excited. We all are.” He took a sip, gazing out at the sparkling stretch of water. Josie let herself sink down beside him on the sand, feeling the day start to unfurl around them like a promise.
“Get any sleep?” he asked, turning his attention back to her with a curious tilt of his head.
“I did. Best I have in a while.” She softened into her words, surprised again at how easy it was to admit these things here.
“Good,” Tama said, contentment threading through his voice.
They watched as small silhouettes dotted the early morning waves—Isabel’s boys most likely, from the excited shouts that carried back to shore. It was warm already, sun glinting off the water, holding everything in a golden embrace.
“When I first got here,” Tama started, thoughtful, “I was convinced I’d made a huge mistake —moving so far, leaving everything behind. But…” He looked over at her, shared understanding in his gaze. “Turns out it was the best thing I ever did.”
Josie glanced over at him, struck by how much his confession mirrored her own fears. “I think I get that.”
He smiled with something like relief, like recognition. They sat there together, quietly building new foundations, letting the soft rush of the waves do all the talking.
“Violet invited me for lunch,” she said, turning back to Tama. “Can I bring you anything back?”
“I’m good. Got some work to do around the house." He dug his toes into the sand, relaxed and easy. “Be warned though… She’ll have half the neighborhood there.”
She laughed, imagining the chaos and laughter it would bring. “You’re not coming?”
“I might stop by later. Just to make sure they haven’t completely overwhelmed you.”
“I can handle it,” she said with mock bravado.
——————
Violet’s house was alive with chatter and tantalizing smells that wove through the air like a welcome embrace. Josie paused on the porch, taking it in, before Isabel yanked open the door with dramatic flair.
“You’re here!” she exclaimed, pulling Josie inside and wrapping her in a quick hug.
“Barely,” Josie laughed. “There was almost an incident involving too much sand and not enough balance.”
“Sounds like initiation to me,” Violet chimed in from the kitchen, where she stood over a riot of dishes, each more colorful than the last. She wiped her hands on a floral apron and motioned Josie further into the bustling scene. “Grab a plate before these vultures finish it all.”
Josie obeyed, weaving around a jumble of people and chairs, feeling the electric hum of community surge through her. She barely had time to fill a plate before Isabel’s boys swept past, laughing and noisy, igniting movement in their wake. They circled back with broad grins, one pulling on Josie’s sleeve.
“Are you coming to the bonfire tonight?” he asked eagerly.
She hesitated, surprised by how much she already felt part of things. From across the room, she caught Violet’s eye—mischievous and encouraging. “There’s a bonfire? We just had a block party…”
“Of course she is,” Violet answered for her, with a wink in Josie’s direction. "Now you boys go play!"
Josie smiled at the boy’s cheer and nodded. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
“I can’t tell if you’re trying to make her popular or just stress the poor girl out,” Isabel said with a mock sigh as she sank into a seat.
“Yes,” Violet shot back gleefully. “So, tell us! What brought you to our little corner of the world?”
Three voices chimed in with agreement. The women leaned in, curiosity sparking like kindling, and Josie felt a warmth rise that had nothing to do with the abundant spread of food before her.
“I needed new scenery, I guess,” she said, picking words as carefully as the ripe mango on her plate. “It was time for some big changes.”
“Lucky us!” Isabel’s voice was bright and genuine. “I mean, ditching that glamorous city life for a quiet, small-town and sand in your shoes—that’s brave. I’m assuming you were a city a girl…”
Josie smiled ruefully. “Yes. Chicago to be exact. But I wouldn't call it glamorous."
“Chicago? You poor thing, you must be burning up down here!” Isabel said, laughter on the edge of her words.
Violet nodded with mock seriousness. “We have a strict ‘everyone in shorts and flip-flops’ dress code around here.”
“We’ll have you acclimated in no time,” said another woman, red-haired and freckled with a kind smile. She introduced herself as Willow and reached over to fill Josie’s plate with more food.
“Well, I do adapt quickly,” Josie admitted, taking a bite of something delicious and unidentifiable. Around her, the room was alive, each person a new story; every corner seemed to hold a small discovery just waiting for her to stumble upon it. She could almost feel herself unfolding along with this new life.
By nightfall, the beach was dotted with flickering lanterns and knots of people gathered around a towering bonfire, the flames dancing high and bright against the cool fabric of the sky. Josie lingered at the edge of the crowd, marveling at how easily she’d slipped into this world. How familiar it felt—the way everything glowed.
She spotted Isabel’s boys tumbling across the sand, leading a pack of children in shouted games and laughter. Several people waved when they saw her, pulling her into their conversations as naturally as if she’d been here all along.
“Fitting right in, I see.” she heard a familiar voice behind her. She turned to see Tama standing there in a white linen shirt and shorts, wearing a grin that was pure invitation.
“Look who decided to show up,” she teased, nudging him lightly with her shoulder.
“I said I’d check in on you,” he replied. “Make sure you survived the lunch.”
“I think I’m officially adopted now,” she confessed, unable to keep the satisfaction from her voice. “Turns out they don't just throw huge parties every once in awhile—they do it twice a day.”
Tama laughed, the sound mingling with the crackle of the fire and the murmur of the ocean at their backs. “You’ll get used to it. Besides, it feels more like family this way.”
They walked closer to the fire together, warmth licking their skin. Josie felt herself melting into the moment, into this place that was new but not quite as foreign. She watched as Violet and Isabel led a group in song, their voices rising over the rhythmic crash of waves.
“If every day is like this…” Josie said, tilting her head toward Tama.
“Not everyday, but a lot of days. I promise once the new wears off they’ll leave you alone.”
Josie shook her head, letting the music and laughter vibrate through her, a melody she never knew she’d been longing for. “Not sure I want them to.” She looked at Tama, her eyes betraying a dreamy wonder she didn’t bother to hide.
They stood in comfortable silence as the night danced around them. Josie watched the firelight flicker across faces that felt both brand new and surprisingly dear; each one greeted her with easy smiles and open arms. It was dizzying in a way that left her exhilarated, like she was riding the cusp of an endless adventure.
“I’ve never had anything like this… people who want to see me, want to spend time with me. Get to know me…” Josie marveled, letting the admission hang in the air between them.
“I think,” Tama said softly, “that you’re what they’ve been waiting for too.”
She gave him a startled look and then a slow smile, both incredulous and delighted at how right that seemed. They watched the sun slide into the horizon, trailing streaks of color like careless brushstrokes across the sky.
“Maybe this is too much?” Josie asked suddenly, sweeping her hand at the scene—the bonfire, her new life.
“Not enough if you ask me.” Tama said, but he was only looking at her, not the fire.
Josie felt a flush creep up her neck at the way his eyes lingered on her face. She looked away, focusing instead on the dancing flames.
"You know," she said finally, "when I left Chicago, I didn't imagine I'd find... this." She gestured toward the gathering—Violet now leading an impromptu conga line, Isabel's boys burying Jasper's feet in the sand.
"And what exactly is 'this'?" Tama asked, his voice soft beside her.
She considered the question, watching the tide of people ebbing and flowing around them. "I don't know yet," she admitted. "But it feels like... possibility."
The baby kicked then, a strong flutter that made her press a hand to her belly. Tama noticed but said nothing, just smiled in that easy way of his that made everything seem simpler than it was.
She watched his smile stretch wide and felt the flutter again—almost as if the baby was dancing right along with the rest of them. What a strange thing, she thought, to feel so new and so deeply connected at the same time.
They stayed there a while, watching as the bonfire burned lower, casting everyone in a warm amber glow. The conversations had mellowed, voices soft against the persistent rhythm of waves. Children were being gathered up by yawning parents, sand-crusted and happy.
"Think I'm going to head back," she said to Tama, who'd been a constant presence at her side all evening. "I’m getting a little tired."
"I'll walk ya," he offered, helping her up from the beach blanket. They said their goodbyes, each farewell punctuated with promises of coffee dates and dinner invitations that made Josie's heart swell.
The night air was cool against her skin as they made their way up the wooden steps that led from beach to street. Palm Drive was quiet, cottages glowing with soft porch lights that dotted the darkness like fireflies.
"You know," Tama said as they walked along the moonlit path, "I've lived here almost three years now, and sometimes I still wake up feeling like I've stepped into someone else's life."
Josie glanced at him, her expression softening. "Good or bad feeling?"
"Good. Definitely good." He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Like I accidentally stumbled into exactly where I was supposed to be all along."
They reached Josie's porch, the steps creaking softly beneath their weight. The night seemed to hold its breath around them as they lingered there, neither quite ready to part.
"Thanks for walking me home," Josie said, one hand resting on the porch railing.
"Thanks for letting me," Tama replied. He hesitated, then added, "You know, if you ever need anything—day or night —you can always find me."
"I will," she promised, a warm fluttering in her chest as she met his gaze. “But I’m trying hard not to lean on anyone.”
Tama chuckled softly, the sound wrapping around them like an embrace. “Look" he replied, but his tone turned serious then. “Josie, I mean it. You’re not alone here. Not unless you want to be.”
She felt the weight of his words sink deep beneath her skin—like an anchor tethering her to this unexpected home and the steadily growing connection blossoming between them.
“I think,” Josie breathed, her heart racing with vulnerability and hope, “that it’s just going to take me some time to adjust…this has been a lot for my first few days here. Just a little overwhelming.”
Tama nodded, a flicker of understanding passing between them. “Change never comes easy. But sometimes it can be a beautiful thing if you let it settle in.”
Josie took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the sea and the faintest hint of jasmine from the flowers that crept over her porch railing. “And what if I don’t know how to let it?”
“Then I’ll help you,” he said, that reassuring smile returning to his lips. “I’ll help you learn to embrace it. Besides,” he added playfully, “what kind of friend would I be if I just left you to figure all this out alone?”
The warmth blooming in her chest shifted into something else—an exhilaration laced with curiosity. Here was someone willing to guide her, to stand by her side as she navigated this uncertain but inviting territory.
“Okay, then,” she replied, a grin breaking across her face. “Let’s be friends.”
“Friends.” he agreed.
As Josie stepped inside her cottage, the door clicking shut behind her felt like a barrier against the swirling world outside. The scents of salt and smoke still lingered in her hair, mingling with a trace memory from another time—one that did not belong to this vibrant new beginning. She leaned against the cool wood of the door for just one moment longer.
But as she stood there rooted in place, those memories began to rise uninvited—a shadowy echo lurking at the fringes of joy. Flickering visions danced before her mind’s eye: crowded streets pulsing with life but also fear; late nights spent clinging desperately to hope while suffocating beneath expectations.
Chicago bubbled up fiercely against this backdrop of tamed waves. Questions danced clumsily through the air like fireflies, illuminating doubts she had thought extinguished.
The countless nights spent hiding bruises beneath layers of clothing and makeup, the biting sarcasm and bitter words echoing louder than laughter ever could. Josie shivered slightly at the thought—Elijah's shadow loomed large in those memories, a dark cloud that threatened to rain on her newfound hope.
“You have to forget him,” she whispered to herself as if saying his name would conjure him into reality too starkly; like summoning a ghost for which she had no place anymore. She remembered how he used to keep her captive—not just physically but emotionally wrapped tightly within the confines of doubt and despair. It had been three weeks since she escaped Chicago’s grasp, yet remnants still clung stubbornly around her heart.
But then there was tonight—the warmth from Tama’s smile fleeing across her mind like sunlight dispersing clouds ready to storm once more. This beach-centered community reminded her so vividly what resilience felt like when woven through kindness rather than spiteful hands that sought only darkness.
She swiped at the tears rolling down her face, “Stop,” she vowed softly, “You can’t cry anymore.”
But the tears wouldn’t listen, cascading down her cheeks like a sudden downpour. Josie turned away from the door, rubbing her eyes as she let the wave of emotions wash over her. The memories were relentless; they pounded against her like waves crashing on the shore, but tonight, for the first time in months, she actually felt herself wanting to fight back.
Her breath hitched in her throat as she wiped the moisture from her face. She wouldn’t give Elijah the power to dampen this new beginning. Not when every fabric of her life was being interwoven with colors so vibrant they could drown out even the darkest shadows.
She picked up a small journal from her kitchen counter, its pages filled with hopes and dreams she had started drafting not too long ago. Her fingers traced over the words she'd written just days before arriving. Dreams that had seemed impossible then now felt within reach, like fruits hanging low on branches just waiting to be plucked.
She began to write, her pen moving across the page with newfound purpose:
I think I might have found it—that place where I can breathe again. Where the air doesn't feel like it's crushing my lungs with every inhale. The people here look at me and actually see me, not just what they can take from me or how they can control me. And Tama...
She paused, pen hovering over his name. There was something about him that both terrified and exhilarated her—something in the way he seemed to understand exactly what she needed without her having to say a word.
It's like he knows there's more beneath the surface but doesn't demand to excavate it all at once. He's patient, kind, and nothing like what I'm used to. That's what scares me most. He has the most gentle soul that I’ve ever encountered.
He's kind in a way I never knew existed—like he slipped out of some dream where people are good simply because they can be. But I'm afraid of trusting too quickly, of building sandcastles at the edge of the tide. I know better than anyone how easily they wash away.
She moved to the window, drawing back the curtain to gaze across the street. Tama's cottage glowed with soft light, and she could just make out his silhouette moving past the window. Something in that sight anchored her, reminding her of what was real and present. Tama wasn't a figment or a dream; he was flesh and bone and genuine kindness living just across the street.
Josie's hand drifted to her belly, cradling the small bump that had become her constant companion. "We've got good neighbors," she whispered, feeling the baby flutter in response. “I think they really like us.”
As she turned away from the window, her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. A text from an unknown number lit up the screen:
"Sweet Dreams. This is Tama, by the way. Violet gave me your number. Hope that's okay."
A smile tugged at her lips as she read the message, warmth spreading through her chest. She typed back quickly:
"It's more than okay.”
She hesitated, then added: "An oasis after being lost in the desert."
She sent the text before she could second-guess herself, then set her phone down with a shaky exhale. The gesture felt small but significant—a stepping stone across waters she'd been afraid to traverse.
The baby kicked again, stronger this time, as if applauding her courage. Josie laughed softly, rubbing her belly. "You liked that, huh? Maybe we're both braver than I thought."
Her phone buzzed again with Tama's reply: "Happy to be your oasis."
Simple words that somehow managed to wrap around her heart like a promise. Josie hugged the feeling close as she prepared for bed, letting it carry her into dreams far gentler than the ones that had haunted her for so long.
Sleep came easier that night than it had in years. Dreams of ocean waves and bonfires replaced the nightmares that had plagued her since fleeing Chicago. For once, Elijah's face didn't materialize in the darkness, and she woke to sunlight streaming through her curtains instead of cold sweat and racing heartbeat.
*This will be somewhat of a slow burn, so please don't come in looking for smut right off the bat.
I'm really enjoying writing this one and I hope that you will enjoy it as well. As always, comments and shares are very much appreciated! 💕
You can find more Tama stories here: Master List
Part 1:
Josie cut the ignition and squinted against the hazy morning light. The “For Rent” sign swung lazily in front of 28 Palm Drive, peeling numbers barely visible beneath layers of old tape.
"Yeah,” she murmured to herself, rubbing her belly absentmindedly before sliding out and shutting the door behind her with a solid thud. “This is perfect.”
Bags stacked on boxes, she surveyed her chaotic living room, and sighed. Moving at five months pregnant should've felt more like a marathon than a sprint, but she was making it work by sheer willpower—and secrecy.
Her ex wouldn't think to find her here; she'd driven far enough south to be almost erased from the grid of his memory. A smile tugged at her lips as she thought about Elijah's face when he discovered what she'd done.
Serves him right. He’d been so sure she’d never leave.
She pushed through the sea of cardboard and dropped onto a lawn chair that doubled as her couch. She rubbed her belly again and whispered, “Just us now, baby girl.” A soft flutter responded, like the baby was reminding her she’d never truly be alone.
“Everything alright in here?” a voice called from the door.
Stan, the landlord, stood holding a dusty fan. His bushy eyebrows danced across his forehead like two woolly caterpillars.
“Just trying to get settled,” Josie said, managing to sound more optimistic than she felt.
“You’ll have it feeling like home in no time, Miss. Josie.” He set the fan on top of a tower of boxes marked KITCHEN. “This summer’s gonna be hotter than hell, so you’ll need this.”
“Thanks, Stan.”
Walking back outside as Stan drove away, Josie gulped the fresh air, savoring the blend of salt and honeysuckle and the newness of her own untethered existence. It was a sense of liberation she hadn't realized was possible—a lightness that seemed to lift from her chest and ripple through each breath. She hadn’t yet unpacked the boxes but already felt the tingle of freedom, of possibility, in the soles of her feet.
The neighborhood, if she could even call it that, was a scattered collection of brightly colored beach cottages, the air whispering tales of summers long faded. Sun-bleached chairs lounged lazily on porches, each one seeming to invite her to sit a while, to rest, to make herself at home.
A figure jogged across the street toward her porch. He was shirtless and wore cargo shorts and no shoes, his hair a tousle of long dark curls bouncing with each step.
“Hey there!” he called out cheerfully before waving an exaggerated hello.
Josie blinked in mild surprise but managed a polite smile back. “Hi.”
“Tama,” he said when close enough to extend an easy hand towards hers—a light grip that lingered just long enough not to feel awkward or demanding of attention it didn’t deserve; Tama seemed practiced this way —not only in gesture but in a whole way of being. “Just movin' in?” he asked, a crooked smirk cutting across his handsome face.
“Yeah, trying to at least,” Josie replied, pushing her hair behind an ear. The breeze tousled it right back down her cheek.
“Need help with anything?” Tama leaned against the bottom of the porch rail, nodding at the towers of boxes as if they were an exciting challenge.
“That obvious, huh?”
“Little bit.” He grinned wider. “Don’t mind lending a hand, if you want.”
Josie hesitated. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t lean on anyone this time, like she had with Elijah. Like quicksand, he’d called it when he'd grown bored of playing house—a mess of obligation sucking him into fatherhood and maturity. But Tama’s offer seemed easy, like the slow roll of ocean waves onto gentle sand; nothing possessed, nothing assumed.
“You know what? I think I might take you up that offer. I’m Josie by the way. Just moved in this morning.”
“Well, Josie-just-moved-in-this-morning, welcome to paradise.” He gestured grandly to the swath of azure horizon and the tiny box of a house that sat squarely in front of it.
She laughed. “Paradise huh?”
He nodded. “Hell yeah!”
“Paradise was my plan,” she admitted, slightly unnerved by how easily he seemed to read her intentions.
“Good plan. You're in the right place!” he said, taking the steps two at a time to survey the chaos within. “Where should we start?”
“There's no real method to the madness.” Josie joined him inside, feeling a pleasant sense of inevitability in having company—someone kind, someone new. “Maybe start with the stuff for the kitchen?”
Tama nodded and crouched to lift a box labeled cookware. “You got it, boss.”
Josie giggled and picked up a smaller one and followed him down the narrow hallway, her heart thumping in time with their footsteps. She whispered to her belly, “Looks like we’ve got some help.”
Hours passed in a cascade of small jokes and small talk, Tama’s laughter filling the little house like warm sunlight. Every box opened, and items put in their rightful place. Josie looked around the nearly organized space in disbelief. Stacks of boxes had transformed into stacks of plates, glasses lined neatly in cabinets, a life unfurling from beneath cardboard flaps.
“Wow,” she said, swiping the back of her hand across her forehead. “This went faster than I thought it would.”
Tama laughed. “Told you. Paradise has its perks. Plus, you didn't have a lot to unpack."
“Guess I owe you a thank you.”
“Call it neighborly duty.” He smiled, “So what brings you to our fine little corner of nowhere?”
Josie hesitated, holding his curious gaze for a beat longer than she’d intended. She’d lied to herself for years about her reasons for staying with Elijah—caught up in promises and unkept expectations, and more abuse than she would ever admit outloud—but here was something simpler and pure: just a question, without the weight of consequence attached to it.
“Just wanted a fresh start.” she settled on.
When they finished Tama flopped onto the lawn chair and stretched his arms behind his head, sweat glistening across his brow. Josie handed him a glass of iced tea, watching as he took a long sip and closed his eyes in exaggerated bliss.
“That hit the spot,” he sighed, peering at her through one open eye. “Well, first day in the new house down. How you feelin’?”
“Better than I expected,” Josie replied sincerely, marveling at how much lighter the space felt with everything unpacked. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Anytime you need a hand, you know where to find me. Right across the street.” He tipped his head.
As Tama stood to leave, Josie felt a twinge of something she couldn’t quite name—a buoyancy almost too light to be called hope. “Thanks again,” she said. “I really appreciate your help.”
“Anytime. Now get some rest!” With that and a backward wave, Tama bounded down the porch steps and sauntered back toward his bright white cottage.
Josie leaned against the doorframe, watching him weave his way across Palm Drive. He stopped suddenly and turned on his heel.
“Oh! Kinda short notice,” he hollered, “but you’re welcome to come by at seven tomorrow for our block party—couple folks are getting together down by the dunes.”
Josie blinked in surprise. She’d barely settled into her own skin here; meeting new people felt like an adventure she wasn’t prepared to tackle quite yet, but instantly caught up in a surge of eagerness that was partly hers and partly what seemed carried on wind currents from Elijah’s distant orbit—the baby shifting inside as if echoing Josie's inner- Yes Exactly That—that she nodded anyway.
“Um yeah, maybe I will.” Her voice wobbled with ambivalence but came out more delighted-sounding than uncertain-pitched after all.
“Well, maybe I’ll see you there.” he replied, walking backward across the street. “Night Josie!”
——————
Josie nervously smoothed her bright yellow sundress as she slowly made her way across the beach, the “Block party” as Tama had called it was already in full swing.
Whole families sat in circles, chairs sunk deep into the sand, portable grills sizzling as they spit tiny clouds of smoke into the sky. Kids chased each other with neon water guns while dogs darted joyfully between them. She hesitated, caught between the urge to retreat and something else—a pull towards this spontaneous community she hadn’t expected to find.
“Hey, Josie!” Tama’s voice rang out. He was standing next to a cluster of people, all holding red plastic cups and laughing at something she’d missed hearing.
This is it, she thought, her first big leap into something new. She raised a hand in greeting and picked up her pace, trying not to let the nerves show too much on her face.
“Glad you could make it!” Tama said as she reached him. The others turned towards her with curious, welcoming smiles.
“I almost didn’t,” she admitted, noting how easy it was to be honest here. “But I’m trying this new thing where I actually do fun stuff.”
Tama laughed. “You’re in the right place then.”
She laughed nervously, “That’s what you keep telling me.”
A willowy, older woman with sun-bleached hair handed Josie a cold drink. “I’m Violet,” she said, eyes aglow with interest. “We’re so happy to meet you.”
“We’ve been speculating about who swooped in on Stan's place all week,” added a tall man with round glasses. “I’m Jasper, by the way. Violet's better half.”
Josie took a sip of her drink and let out an involuntary sigh of contentment as the cool liquid slid down her throat. “It’s nice to meet you guys too,” she said, feeling some of her awkwardness melt away.
“Hope you like veggie burgers,” Jasper said, gesturing toward the grill. “Tama made us promise not to scare off any new neighbors with our cooking.”
She giggled, glancing at Tama as he feigned hurt. “He's still not over that potato salad incident.” Jasper quipped.
“I’ve been traumatized,” Tama replied. He stepped closer to Josie, making a disgusted face while handing her a plate. “He put vegan mayonnaise in it. That's a real thing…vegan mayo. Ughhh.”
“So you’re new in town?” another woman, Isabel asked, passing Josie a burger wrapped in a napkin. Her eyes were bright with the kind of genuine interest that Josie still didn’t quite know what to do with.
“Am I that obvious?” Josie replied with a smile, feeling some piece of herself relax into their easy company.
“She’s just about settled in though,” Tama put in, mouth full as he nodded at her. “Officially unpacked and everything. Thank you very much!”
“You work fast,” Rivers, Isabel's husband added. “It took us three months to find our coffee mugs.”
Josie smiled, nodding toward Tama, “I had an excellent helper.” She settled into the circle, feeling more at ease than she had in a long while.
“We do this every few weeks,” Isabel said. “Summer’s our excuse, but we don’t really need one.”
“Got a whole neighborhood’s worth of stories to catch you up on,” Violet added with a wink.
“Like how Tama got elected Welcome Committee,” Jasper teased, patting Tama on the back, “Shockingly unopposed.”
“Oh, I can only imagine,” Josie replied, laughing. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d stumbled into a secret club and that someone might still tap her on the shoulder and point out she didn’t belong. But with every moment, every smile or warm word, that fear eased further away.
As the sun began its lazy dip toward the horizon, Josie found herself on a blanket, watching kids roast marshmallows over a bonfire. The air was thick with laughter and smoke as she leaned back on her hands, feeling more at ease than she’d thought possible after everything that led her here. Tama settled beside her, brushing sand off his legs.
“Didn’t think a bunch of strangers could be so friendly, huh?” he said with a grin.
“I’m starting to get the idea.”
“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “everyone here loves an excuse to hang out. You could throw a party and call it your housewarming.”
She arched a brow at him. “And delegate all the work to you again?”
He gave her a wide-eyed look of mock innocence. “Who, me?”
She laughed, feeling the last of her nervousness dissolve into the sea air. Maybe there was room here after all, for more than just a fresh start. She had never felt like she belonged anywhere, maybe this is what it felt like.
She glanced around at her new neighbors—new friends—and nodded slowly. “Yeah,” she said, half to herself as the baby shifted inside her once more, echoing the clarity Josie was now sure was hers. “Maybe I could.”
“We’ll all come running.” Tama leaned back, supporting himself on his elbows as he gazed up at the darkening sky. “No veggie burgers, please... or vegan mayonnaise!"
“Don't worry.” Josie laughed and nestled deeper into the soft pile of blankets, taking in the scene around her—the blanket of stars stretching across the night, the flicker of sparklers lit by wide-eyed kids, the hum of voices mixing with the ocean’s rush. It felt surreal, this easy acceptance, this unexpected coziness of the makeshift tribe she'd wandered into.
“I don’t know what I was so afraid of,” she admitted out loud, more to herself than anyone else.
Tama gave her a sidelong glance. “Change is scary…”
She wanted to say that she hadn’t felt like she fit anywhere for as long as she could remember, but instead, she just nodded, “Yeah, it is.”
Violet settled in next to her as Tama was pulled away by the kids to hunt crabs in the dark. “Out here, you can just be,” Violet said, an understanding softness in her voice.
Josie soaked in her words, watching Tama’s silhouette gather up a giggling pack and head toward the darker edge of the beach. “I think I like that,” she said.
Violet smiled, then leaned in conspiratorially. “Plus, you get to see which of us is weirdest.”
“Besides Tama?”
They both laughed. It was a sound Josie hadn’t heard from herself in too long—a sound full of both release and promise.
She looked around at the tide of people ebbing and flowing through the night, caught by surprise at how easily she was buoyed by them all. Isabel showed up with more drinks as Jasper added wood to the bonfire that washed them all in warm light. There were mismatched chairs and shared secrets and future plans that unfolded before her with the kind of effortless joy she'd assumed happened only for other people in other places.
“How far along are you?” Violet asked out of the blue.
“Oh, I’m not-”
“Your secret is safe with me my dear,” the older woman added. “I’d put you at six months or so.”
“Close, five.” Josie smiled, a slow admission of truth. Somehow, she didn’t mind that this near-stranger might know more about her than she had meant to say.
Violet squeezed her arm. “So many good things ahead.”
Josie nodded, taking in the scene with wonder. Four days ago, her life was a jumble of boxes and uncertainty. Now, here she was—connected, expectant, surrounded by warmth.
“Your whole life will change.” Violet said wistfully. She put an arm around Josie’s shoulders, squeezing gently. “We’ll make sure you’re good and ready for it.”
It struck Josie then—she wasn’t just a curiosity or novelty here. They were already claiming her, wrapping her up in their crazy, wonderful fold with no questions asked.
She spotted Tama in the distance, his laughter carrying over the waves. One of the kids was perched on his back, and even from here she could see his face beaming wide against the night sky.
“You know he’s single.”
“I…I am not looking.” Josie said quickly, but she knew her cheeks were giving her away. Her heart did a little flip at the thought, unexpected and fast. She watched as he scooped up another child, effortlessly balanced them both, and spun around, letting the world turn with him.
Violet gave her a knowing smile. “He got divorced about three years ago. Moved here looking for a new start, just like you. He’s a good one. Not to mention good looking…and that body.”
“Violet!” Josie gasped at the older woman’s admission.
“I’m old but I’m not dead, honey!”
Josie’s eyes lingered on Tama as they spoke, marveling at how long she’d kept herself from this—simple happiness, risky and beautiful. She drew in a breath, letting the salty air fill her lungs, find its way through her.
“I'm back!” Tama called, jogging back toward her with the kids in tow. He was breathless and bright-eyed, alive with the kind of energy she thought she’d lost somewhere along the way. He tilted his head with a curious smile. “Got room for one more?”
Josie looked up at him, the spark in his eyes warming something deep within her. She nodded, sliding aside so he could join them on the blanket. The kids flopped down around them, chatter mixing with the sound of waves and crackling fire.
Maybe it wouldn’t be such a terrible thing if this moment lasted forever. It felt like possibility had opened up around her, as wide and endless as the sea.
Tama leaned close, voice low and teasing over the din. “You look like you’re thinking big thoughts.”
Josie gave a soft laugh. “I guess I am.”
He tucked his arms behind his head, lying back on the blanket, “Care to share with the class?”
She glanced around, hesitating for just a second, but the faces she saw—their little makeshift family—were waiting with such easy expectation. Her heart swelled.
“Yeah,” she said slowly, the feeling of rightness overtaking her. “Not yet, but soon."
Tama’s grin widened, and Josie felt herself mirrored in it—confident and ready to take on everything new that shimmered on her horizon.
To be continued...
Tag list: (if you'd like to be added or removed, please let me know)
WWE Superstar; nicknamed "The Anomaly"; 4-time WWE Women's Champion, 2-time NXT Women's Champion, 2022 Royal Rumble Winner, 1-time WWE Women's Tag Team Champion
Damian Priest
Nola's best friend/love interest; WWE Superstar; known as The Archer of Infamy; member of The Judgment Day faction; former NXT North American Champion, 1-time United States Champion, 2-time Undisputed Tag Team Champion, Señor Money in the Bank
Rhea Ripley
aka Mami; Nola's best friend; WWE Superstar; member of The Judgment Day; current WWE Women's World Champion, 1-time NXT Women's Champion 1-time WWE Women's Tag Team Champion, 2023 Royal Rumble
Omari Cree Lennox
Nicknamed O.C.; Nola's fraternal twin brother; NFL running back and 4-time Superbowl MVP; played for New England Patriots & Tampa Bay Buccaneers, currently plays for Philadelphia Eagles
Adonis Jahlil Lennox
aka A.J; Nola and Omari's baby brother; currently studying Film & Media Scoring as well as Music Production & Engineering at the Berklee College of Music in Boston; wants to make music for Film & Television in the future
Charles Lennox Jr aka C.J. Lennox
Nola's father; Grammy award winning singer-songwriter and guitarist; front man for rock band Blackstone
Saphira Harlow-Lennox
Nola & Omari's adopted mother; A.J.'s bio mom; professional chef and baker; owner of Joie De Vivre Restaurant
Lyric Rieux
Nola's childhood friend; a travel photographer and graphic designer; father is the bass player for Blackstone
Vega Adeoye
Nola's childhood best friend; tattoo artist & business owner, owns three female ran tattoo shops in Orlando & Miami
Additional characters include Zelina Vega, Bianca Belair, Finn Balor, Liv Morgan, Raquel Rodriguez, Kayden Carter, Jey Uso, Cathy Kelly, Dominik Mysterio...
More characters to follow throughout the story...
✨Leave a comment if you wish to be tagged in future parts✨
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A/N: Sooo... this is actually a rework of an old Seth Rollins one-shot I had made years back, but I decided to revamp it into a Damian Priest one-shot. This has absolutely no tie-in to Just Friends whatsoever.
Word Count: 2.9k
Enjoy!
DING!
The elevator comes to a halt upon the arrival of yet another floor. A robotic, yet feminine voice comes over the loudspeaker:
“EIGHTH FLOOR.”
The metal doors slowly open to reveal a black and gray hallway with artwork of abstract watercolor paintings hanging on the walls. Standing towards the back of the car, leaning against the safety bar, you watch your best friend and maid of honor Sydney step off the elevator. Placing one hand in front of the elevator door so it wouldn’t close she scans the hallway, looking left and then to the right, all to make sure that there was no one around.
After a few minutes, she finally turned her gaze back into the elevator. A small, loving smile softly forms and she extends a hand.
“Coast is clear,” she whispers.
You nod and push off the safety bar, throwing the thick strap of your purse over your shoulder. You grab hold of your carry-on and step off the elevator.
Sydney places a hand on the swell of your back while the other pulls her suitcase. Your gaze falls to the floor as the two of you walk down the hall, focusing on the hotel’s unusual carpet pattern as she scans the placards on the wall looking for the right room. Every so often you could feel her eyes practically burning a hole through before quickly turning away to look back up at the placards.
She was worried. She had every right to be. Since leaving the arena over an hour ago you'd barely spoken a single word. Not to her, not to Rhea, no one. You were catatonic.
But who could blame you? After what you had just seen, anyone would react the exact same way if they were in your shoes.
As you continued down the hall, you could feel the consistent buzzing of your phone through the thin fabric of the hoodie. Slow at first, but quickly becoming more often with every unanswered second passing by.
It almost felt like with every step you took, the phone would go off.
Step.
Buzz.
Step.
Buzz.
Step, step.
Buzz, buzz.
Normally you would have answered by now. But instead, you chose to ignore whoever it was and kept going.
You finally reached the end of the hall and stopped in front of a door marked 827. Sydney pulls out a key card from the pocket of her jeans and slides it into the automated lock. A few buzzing sounds later, a green light flashes and a loud *click* signals the door had unlocked. She turns the handle, pushes the door open, and then moves to the side to usher you into the room, following close behind.
Placing your purse on the dresser, you look around at what would be your new home for the night. For the most part, the room looked like every other hotel room you’ve stayed in while on the road. Granted, this was probably the most luxurious of most of them, but still pretty standard.
There were two Queen beds each donning a fancy purple duvet with no less than eight of the fluffiest pillows you’d have ever seen in your life, a giant flat screen TV mounted above a black dresser, cashmere floor rugs draped across cherry hardwood floors, a cozy little reading area near the windows with a small leather loveseat, and a wet bar fully stocked with overpriced snacks and tiny bottles of alcohol.
The one thing that did make the room stand out was the incredible view. Floor-to-ceiling window panels centered on the main wall of the room leveled with the New York skyline, showcasing a near perfect image of the city. There was even a clear view of the Empire State Building in the background, lit up in red and blue lights as night blanketed the city.
You sit on the edge of the bed, looking out the window. Looking out at the city you couldn’t help to think about how different life was a few hours ago. You were engaged to the love of your life. You were in the final countdown before the big day, less than a week. You were at your rehearsal dinner downtown surrounded by your closest friends and family, all gathered to celebrate your upcoming nuptials.
But all of that seemed so long ago now.
How could this have happened? How could he do that to me?
But before you could think of an answer to your question, the sound of boots clacking across the hardwood floor brought you back to reality.
“Well,” Sydney says with a satisfied sigh, “this is nice. Really nice as a matter of fact, especially with it being super last minute.”
You brought your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms tightly around them, never once looking away from the window. “It’s fine, I guess.”
“Fine?” she snorts, “Y/N, come on! Look at what we got. Gorgeous view, fancy sheets, free Wi-Fi, a fully stocked bar...”
You hear movement from behind and see a light flicker on through the window’s reflection. “Oh my-, Y/N you’ve gotta see this bathroom! It’s got a huge shower and…” she pauses, “Oh. My. God. The floors are heated. Y/N the floors are heated!!”
But you don’t move. You don’t spring up from the bed to revel in her excitement over heated floors or whatever other fancy details the room had to offer. Instead, you stay seated in silence, holding yourself as you gaze out into the city and its nightlife.
You observe the streetlights perched on the sidewalk creating an ominous glow on the pavement. The mixture of city cars and yellow taxis, halted by ongoing traffic as they struggle to reach their destination on time. The small groups of tourists stopping every few minutes for selfies with various buildings in the background, including this very hotel.
All the while your mind replays the events from earlier. A single tear manages to escape as your mind begins to torture you with a play-by-play of what happened. It all still felt like a dream to me, a sick twisted nightmare that no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t wake up from. Your brain searched and scanned through every single memory collected from the last three years.
You were desperate to find any little detail you missed, something that could explain just where everything went wrong. Something that could’ve prepared you for what would eventually happen.
But you found nothing.
No hints, no little clues.
No hidden messages or blaring warning signs.
Nothing that screamed out: “Y/N don’t be alarmed, but the night before you’re supposed to get married… you’re gonna find your fiancé with some random woman bent over a table.”
Boy that would’ve been a great fucking warning now, wouldn’t it?
You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t felt the bed dip, nor did you flinch when you felt a set of arms pull you into an embrace, resting your head under Sydney’s chin. One hand settled at the swell of your back, tracing small circles with her finger, the other gently stroked your hair. Sydney had been your best friend ever since you were both in diapers, you knew just how much it pained her to see you like this; this deflated catatonic alien that had replaced her bubbly best friend. You knew she probably had a million questions for you, but rather than bombard you, she said nothing and just held you.
Throughout your nearly three decades of friendship, there was never a time in your life where you couldn’t rely on her to be there for you wherever you needed the most. And tonight was definitely one of those moments when you needed her.
The two of you stayed in this comfortable silence for seemed like forever, just staring out into the night as she held you.
“You feel like talking about it?” you hear her ask, her voice just above a whisper.
You say nothing.
“Ok, that’s fine, we don’t have to talk about it yet. We’ve got tomorrow to figure everything out, but tonight,” she pauses, leaping from the bed, “tonight we are getting shit faced.”
Once again you say nothing but watch as she makes her way over to the wet bar. You knew what Sydney was trying to do. First she would pump you with some top shelf liquor, order a bunch of room service, and then put on your favorite horror movies to get you in a relaxed and neutral state while she did damage control.
Unfortunately, Freddy Krueger and tequila weren't going to fix this problem. Not this time.
“Tell you what. Why don’t I call Rhea and see where she and Bianca are with the rest of your things, and then I’ll see if I can wrangle us up some food. How does that sound?”
You think it over for a moment before nodding in agreement.
A smile forms on Sydney’s face. “Awesome. What do you feel like? We could do chinese, pizza, maybe some Thai food? I could see if room service is still available…?”
You look over at her, her hazel eyes meeting yours. “Could we do a little bit of everything?”
A small laugh escapes Sydney’s mouth. “Hell yea we can! I’ll even get some ice cream from that bodega we passed down the street. Why don’t you change out of that dress, take a nice hot shower, and I’ll start getting everything ready.”
You give her a small smile and with one final hug from her she grabs her purse and heads out, leaving you alone. You slide off the bed and walk around the large room. You stop in front of one of the many conveniently placed touch screen panels on the wall. Scanning over it, you find an app called Night and tap it. Instantly, large panels begin descending over the large window panel, slightly darkening the room and hiding the skyline away for the night.
You move about the room making your way inside the en-suite bathroom. Once inside, you shut the door and lock it. Sydney was right, this was an incredible bathroom, like something straight out of Architectural Digest. Apart from the aforementioned heated floors, there were heated marble countertops, eucalyptus scented plush Egyptian cotton towels, two complimentary plush bathrobes with matching slippers, full-sized bottles of luxury brand skincare and body products, & a huge glass walk-in steam shower with two large overhead rainfall showerheads and shower wall panels on the front and side walls.
On the outside of the shower was another touch screen panel to control the shower. You look it over for a few moments, looking over your choices before choosing the one labeled “rainfall.” The overhead showerheads come alive and water begins to rain down, quickly filling the bathroom with steam.
Moving back to the sink you look at the wide selection of skincare products laid out when you felt your phone begin its incessant vibrating once again. But rather than ignore it like before, you pull your phone from your hoodie pocket and stare at the screen.
The first thing you see is your background. It was one of your favorite pictures of the two of you together, Halloween 2022. The two of you had dressed up as Frankenstein and The Bride of Frankenstien. You were looking at the camera but his eyes were focused solely on you, a smile stretched across his face as he did.
You unlock your screen and view the notifications: over a dozen missed calls. Dozens of voicemails. Way too many damn unread text messages.
With a sigh, you begin scrolling through the list of missed calls, seeing one name appear more often than others.
Damian.
Damian.
Rhea.
Bianca.
Damian.
Damian.
Kayden.
Finn.
Dominik.
Damian.
Damian.
Damian.
Bianca.
Finn.
Damian.
Rhea.
Damian.
Damian.
Damian.
Damian.
The nerve he had to call you, the absolute nerve. What in the hell would make him think you wanted to hear anything that he had to say? Did he think that simple sorry was going to change everything? Or was he calling to explain that what you had seen wasn’t what you thought it was.
You toss your phone onto the counter in annoyance before walking back into the main room, not caring much where it landed. You free yourself of your hoodie, your dress, and the rest of your clothes. You grab two of the plush bath towels underneath the sink, placing one on the back of the toilet and place the other on a hook outside of the shower. You grab one of the bottles of complimentary body wash and open the shower door, the rush of steam engulfing you as you step inside.
You move to stand directly underneath the showerhead, letting the warm cascade over your body. The sound of water splashing against the tiles echoed off the walls but it wasn’t enough to drown out your own thoughts as your mind displayed every kiss, every touch, every ‘I love you’ ever said playing on an endless loop in your mind, attempting to pinpoint the moment where everything changed.
Meeting for the time wrestling on the indies. Meeting again after signing your WWE contract. The night he first asked you out, the night he first said I love you, the night you first made love. Meeting each other’s families.
You try to shake these thoughts from your mind, but it won’t work. No matter what else you attempt to think about, no matter what other happy memories you attempt to form in your head, nothing can keep them at bay. A few stray tears push their way out but you’re quick to wipe them away.
No, you thought. You are not going to do this Y/N. This isn’t happening right now. Stop it!
You reach to grab the bottle of body wash from the shelf inside the shower...
And that’s when you noticed it. The tan line on your finger, now completely visible on your left hand that only a few hours ago bore the beautiful oval cut diamond engagement ring.
The ring that he claimed to have been carrying around for months, hoping to find that right moment that never seemed to come.
Until the night of WrestleMania 37, just hours after you retained your title against Asuka and watched him compete in his first Mania alongside Bad Bunny. The two of you found yourselves back in your shared hotel room, bodies entangled with one another, holding you close against his chest when he would whisper in your ear the two words that would freeze time around you both:
Marry me.
He would reach over to the bedside table next to the bed and pull out a small black box. He would tell you just how much he loved you, how he has always loved you from the moment he met you, how he doesn't wish to spend another day on this earth without you. Then he would slip the dainty ring on your finger and ask you to spend the rest of your life with him.
Now that finger is bare. The ring was gone, given or rather thrown back at him after what had happened.
And just like that, it all came crumbling down. That false sense of reality you created since leaving the arena had finally collided with actual reality and had smacked you dead in the face.
Damian Priest, the love of your life, the man you were set to marry tomorrow, had been cheating on you.
And you had caught him tonight.
Your legs carried you backward until your back hit the wall of the shower. A wave of nausea swirls all around your empty stomach and your chest tightens like someone was stomping on it repeatedly. The first sob was quiet, nothing short of a small childlike whimper as the tears fell. But more and more as reality continued to sink in, they grew louder. The tears flowed more, so much so that I couldn’t tell what were tears and what was from the shower.
Three years of your life, all gone in a flash. Plans for the future, for children, traveling the world… all just illusions and fantasies that would never come true now.
Your body sank to the ground and before you knew it you were curled up into a ball, sobbing into your knees as the water turned from warm to cold.
But you didn’t care. Your head swam with half-formed regrets. Your heart felt as if your blood had turned into tar as it struggled to keep a steady beat.
There was nothing left to feel, nothing left to say, nothing left but the void that now engulfed you in the swirling blackness.
My friends had dragged me out of the house practically by force to go to a Halloween Masquerade. They had convinced me I would have a good time. I was tired from being on the road for the past three straight weeks but here I was dressed as a vampiro. The party was in full swing.
Ironically a lot of people from work are here but so are their friends and few family members. I am talking with Finn and Dominik as I see someone talking with Rhea. She wore a pale blue dress, her dark brown hair was curled and up showing off a neck I wouldn't mind sinking my teeth into.
"Who is with Rhea?" I nod towards Rhea and the mystery woman.
"That's her oldest friend. She's know y/n since she was kid. Was a nanny to a friend. Y/N is American," said Dominik "Why?"
I didn't answer as I walked over to Rhea and her friend "Rhea," I said smiling.
"Dame," she smiles "Have you met my friend y/n y/l/n?" she asked as y/n turned. Her face may have been half covered by a masquerade mask but I can see those green eyes of hers and those plush pink lips. She gave me a smile and I swear I think my heart stopped at that moment.
"Hi," she said extending her hand. I took it and kissed the back of it.
"Mi amor," I said with a smile and Rhea rolled her eyes.
"He's a charmer," she said to y/n.
"I can see that," smiles y/n "Lucky for him. I like a charmer."
"And who may you be dressed as?" I asked as I hook her arm with mine leading her to where we can talk.
"Elizabeth Schuyler," she said with a smile.
"Hamilton? That Elizabeth Schuyler?" I asked as we sat in a secluded area.
"That would be the one," she said smiling bringing her drink to her lips and sipping "And you're a," her eyes moved over me "vampire?"
"Vampiro," I said.
"Oh," she smirks "a vampiro," she lazily placed a hand on my forearm.
"Mind if I see your entire face?" I asked reaching for her mask. She gently grabs my wrist.
"What's your rush?" she asked.
"I want to see if those beautiful eyes are as beautiful as your face," I said.
She smirks "After I know your real name. I know it's not Damian," she said" Just like I know Demi's name isn't Rhea Ripley."
My lips curved into a smile "Okay. Okay. Luis Martinez," I said offering my hand.
"Pleasure to meet you Luis," she said as she removed the mask and reveals an equally beautiful face.
I smile "And it's a pleasure to meet you, y/n y/l/n," I said as y/n took my hand and shook it "This party just isn't it. Want to go with me somewhere?"
Y/N grins "Why Mr. Martinez are you suggesting we blow this popsicle stand?" she laughed.
I chuckled "Yeah. I got my car here what do you say? We go anywhere but here," I said.
"Well if I can change," she said "This dress although lovely. Is kinda of cumbersome. My place is like ten minutes from here. If you don't mind," she smiled at me and well I was toast.
"Your wish is my command," I said raising to my feet and offering my hand. She placed her hand into mine and I couldn't help but notice that it fit so perfectly into mine. She rose to her feet and I offer my arm. She linked her arm with mine. We weaved our way out of the party. Stopping only briefly for y/n to grab her purse that had been with Rh-er Demi.
"Be good," teased Demi.
"Always am," said y/n.
"I was talking to Luis," she said giving me the you hurt her you die look.
"I will be," I said as we head from the party. I lead y/n to my mustang and she let out a low whistle.
"Ooo," she said "A 1966 cherry red mustang," she traced the door with her delicate fingertips "My dream car."
I grinned "Nice. Now shall we go?" I asked as I brush my lips against her ear.
"Yes," she said.
🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷
At y/n's place.....
She came out of her bedroom. Dressed casually in jeans and t-shirt a very interesting t-shirt. I raised an eyebrow "My shirt?" I smirk.
"What?" she asked a playful smirk on her face.
"Interesting shirt you have there," I said.
"Oh this," she laughed lightly "It's my favorite shirt," she sat beside me on her sofa "Now. Are we going to sit here or are you going to change too? I can't imagine that vampire. I mean vampiro get up is comfortable." I studied her face. Her eyelashes naturally are long and curly as I could see her bare face as she washed the makeup off. My eyes wandering from her eyes to her lips and back again "Instead of gawking at them. Why don't you kiss them?" I am taken aback by how forward she was "I'm waiting for an answer."
I smirk before leaning in and kissing her. Pulling her close to me. She wrapped her arms around my neck. The kiss turns steamy quickly. My hands roam her curves. We pulled back only because our lungs needed air.
"Woah," we both said panting slightly as our lungs filled with air again.
"Remind me to thank Demi for dragging me to that party," she said.
I laughed and nod "She definitely deserves flowers," I said wrapping y/n in a hug "I am thankful my friends dragged me to that party too."
Y/N laid her head on my chest and we spent the rest of the night. Watching TV and getting to know one another.
Yes. I was very thankful we were both dragged against our will to a party neither of us wanted to be at.
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well 🧍♀️ as a reminder this blog is NOT a safe space for trump supporters but it IS a safe place for women, queers, trans ppl, people of color, undocumented people, and any marginalized group.
Once again Lin Manuel Miranda has changed the concept of theater and Broadway as a genre.
On October 18, 2024 he and co-producer Eisa Davis released a concept album inspired by the 1979 cult classic film The Warriors. The movie follows the street gang the Warriors as they make their way from The Bronx to their home turf of Coney Island while being hunted by rival gangs and cops. One of the major differences between the film and the concept album is the switching of genders of the Warriors.
The album features a slew of veterans Broadway alum such as Phillipa Soo, Anessa Folds, Amber Gray, Joshua Henry, and Jasmine Cephas Jones while packing an astonishing list of artists such as Ms. Lauryn Hill, Nas, Busta Rhymes, Billy Porter, Ghostface Killah, RZA, Marc Anthony, Colman Domingo, Kim Dracula, and Shenseea.
From start to finish the album sucks you in and by the finale you are left wanting more but in the best way possible. The blending of multiple genres backed by the creative lyricism expected from Lin-Manuel Miranda makes this album an absolute must listen for anyone who loves Broadway, good storytelling, or just good music in general.
It's no longer a question of if this will get a Broadway adaptation rather WHEN we can expect the announcement. It's my hope though that we get a film adaptation straight to streaming with the original cast first, simply because I selfishly want to see Ms Lauryn Hill belting "If You Can Count" as many times as I want from the comfort of my home.
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Do not be alarmed if you see the first chapter of Heart of Glass as well as everything associated with Heart of Glass suddenly disappear from here and my main page.
You know what would be fantastic but also terrifying because I would be afraid they would fuck it up??
If they remade the 1999 The Mummy franchise... but as a TV series.
Like a ten episode series about a young aspiring Egyptologist, working as an intern for some kind of museum in either England or in Egypt, when the museum receives several artifacts including a very strange black book and a sarcophagus from the once believed fictional city of Hamunaptra.
(you kinda see where I am going with this right??)
Anyway, word of the discovery gets out and while studying the artifacts at night, the museum is broken into by thieves and our main lead is attacked by whoever has broken in for information on the artifacts, specifically just where sarcophagus and the black book are. But before they can get any information from her, she is rescued by a man cloaked in all black.
The thieves are able to escape with the sarcophagus but the black book is safe with our lead as the lead and the man in black drive away from the museum. On the way the man reveals himself to be Ardeth Bay, formerly a member of descendants of the Pharaoh's bodyguards known as the Medjai and guardians of Hamunaptra. He explains to her that the thieves who got away with the sarcophagus are a group of religious extremists who seek to free the creature within the tomb and bring forth the end of the world, blah blah blah you get the picture.
We spend the next two to three episodes watching the lead, Ardeth, and either the lead's colleague or friend try and track down the religious group to try and steal back the tomb and in the breath save the world, but by the end of either the third or fourth episode they accidentally help in not only opening the tomb but in reanimating the creature from the dead, Imhotep.
They quickly begin to realize that they are insanely outnumbered and Ardeth tells them that they now require someone who has firsthand knowledge of what exactly is going on and most importantly, knows how to destroy Imhotep before he returns to Hamunaptra and regains his full power. We close that episode with them driving up to this huge mansion in the middle of a rainy and stormy night, the main lead knocking on the door, AND WHO THE HELL ANSWERS THE DOOR?!?!?
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