#dreamdefy

ship randomiser | accepting

@dreamdefy

Dean + Jeff

Finn + Jeff

Ella + Jeff

Niko + Jeff

FIRST FIVE ASKS GET A KISS || ONE OF FIVE

The first few times that Jeff and the Ohioan’s lips touched hadn’t really counted due to the circumstances and their surroundings at the time, but neither were they forgotten. In fact, each and ever time their lips had come together, Jon could swear he still felt the light buzzing against his own lips. But nothing had ever compared before and he wasn’t even sure it had really happened either because so much time had gone on from that time up until now. Which was why he found himself staring. STARING. At the older male’s mouth. 

As Jeff spoke on and on about something his band had done in a past life. Jon smiled as he listened, not a care in the world other than enjoying the sounds of that southern drawl that escaped past the enigmatic wrestler’s lips. He was crushing hard. So hard that he felt like he had been transported to a younger version of himself. That little fluttering that washed over him every time those eyes locked onto his opposing ones. The way the blond perked up just at the most minuscule mention of his name. Everyone around him had known before he did that there was something between the two of them and as much as the younger male tried to deny anything was going on at all, here was Jeff to remind him that he might as well have been lying to himself. 

the   title   was   tossed   aside,   she   barely   paid   it   any   mind   as   it   clanked   against   the   nearby   cart.   a   prize   that   she   had   thrown   away   EVERYTHING   for   meant   nothing   at   the   moment.   her   fingers   moved   through   her   hair,   tugging   at   the   roots   before   she   turned   and   stuttered   back   a   couple   of   steps   at   the   all   too   familiar   face   paint   that   she   saw.   ❝   one   door   closes   another   one   opens   ...   heard   d’at   miz   put   ya’   on   ‘da   team   after   d’at   showin’   out   d’ere.   congrats.   ❞   there’s   no   sarcasm   lacing   her   voice.   it’s   genuine.   she   might   have   her   issues   with   those   backstage   but   jeff   ...   jeff   was   always   one   of   the   good   ones. 

               It was the strangest dream. Thick fog draped over a winding road that led to one small, North Carolinian town—Cameron. Souma heard the mud sloshing beneath his boots. He felt the humidity weighing down on his shoulders, wet in his mouth with each breath he took. And he saw himself. It was like an out-of-body experience. He’d read about them online, heard stories about them from friends. But now he was feeling it. Living it. He saw himself slipping out of the underbrush and onto the desolate road. A pair of twin headlights swung around the bend. Sheets of rain hammered against the pavement.

Screeching tires. The smell of burning rubber. A blinding flash. A metallic taste. Excruciating pain all over. 

When he woke, the road was gone and daylight cast against his eyelids. But the pain remained. It was overwhelming. Every time he inhaled, his chest convulsed and tightened. It was as if his lungs were grasped tightly in a leather glove, squeezed and robbed of air each time they tried to expand. Were his ribs broken? How many years had it been since he was so seriously injured?

Not that it mattered.

He couldn’t die, he reminded himself. His body would soon begin to repair itself. But in the meantime, there was the matter of opening his eyes and lifting his head to assess his surroundings. That in itself sounded like quite the difficult feat. 

His eyelashes fluttered slowly as he finally pried them apart. The sunlight hurt and he had to squint to endure it. For the first time, fingers curling into a quilt, he realized that he was in a bed. With a great deal of effort, he managed to hoist himself up and prop onto his elbows. Immediately, he regretted this. The pain doubled and he dropped back down.  “Shit,” he hissed under his breath, reaching up to press a tender palm to his forehead. It was comforting to feel the warmth of his skin. Though he knew he wouldn’t die, the reassurance helped. Even if his horns stabbed at his hand in the process. 

Head rolling, he rested his cheek against a pillow. It sank and he groaned, wishing that he felt rested. Comfortable. But all he felt was a head-splitting pain and bile rising to the back of his throat. He swallowed it down. Forced his eyes to open. Willed them to focus. 

A man stared back at him. Odd facial hair, salt and pepper and shaved in a creative pattern. Wide green eyes. Pale skin, which was paler still with shock. Blood covered his front as though he had dumped it upon himself. Souma wondered if he was injured for only a moment before he had the gut-turning realization that it was his own blood. Worse still, he recognized the man. But from where? It wouldn’t come to him. He searched his memories vigorously, but nothing came. It was just at the back of his mind: teasing him but never slipping out of the shadows. 

Brother-in-law or not, the relationship between Reby and Jeff seemed to be the only thing that had stayed strong following both of their divorces. Not only was he the boys’ uncle, he was the only Hardy that didn’t seem to hate her, so it seemed obvious to Reby to keep him close. Maybe it was her not wanting to be lonely. She was a mom now, so going out, or even dating again wasn’t even an option. And the fact Jeff was a father too; the two were slowly becoming the best of friends. Matt wasn’t exactly pleased that his brother saw his kids more than him, but he’d made it clear he rather it Jeff than any other man.

Maxel tugging at her leg, repeated calls of ‘momma’ between each tug as she shut the car door, Wolfie balanced precariously on her hip, Reby sighed. “Alright doll” muttered as she began towards the house, a sad feeling in her heart. As much as she loved her family, it was incomplete. A hole left by Matt. And she felt a sense of longing for just a second to be young again. Without the ties of family, to enjoy her birthday the best way she knew how. “Momma-“ a voice breaking Reby out of her own thoughts. More like interrupting. But still.

The brunette sighed, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she spoke. “mommy gon’ spend her birthday with uncle jeffy”. There was no answer, Maxel completely ignoring her, a usual reaction, instead, running for the front door. He was her baby, a gorgeous little jet haired baby, but he was growing up so quickly; a sore spot for the New York native as she watched him reach the steps, waving back at her.

Reby had knocked, waited, with her face erupting in the biggest smile once Jeff appeared from behind the door. An awkward, one armed hug, with both trying to avoid squishing Wolfie between them, Reby already looking over Jeff’s shoulder as Maxel had barged his way inside and already had the tv remote in his hand.

SEND “🔮+ A CHARACTER” AND MY MUSE WILL TELL THE FIRST THOUGHT THAT COMES TO MIND! || still accepting

because we all know my boys can’t just have one simple thought, i present you with a tornado of thoughts that coincide with the first word that comes to their minds regarding your muses

Muse: Jeff

First thought = Actually there was no one specific word, just a whole lotta confusion.. #trash

                        WORRIED WASN’T THE APPROPRIATE WORD FOR HOW SHE FELT RIGHT THEN.      she’d noticed that about ten minutes prior, jeff sneaked off elsewhere. he didn’t   look right   but the ravenette only thought it fair to let him have space–—–for the moment. though, as she wandered the halls aimlessly in attempt to discreetly stumble upon the older man, she found the corners of plump lips dipping downward. he was   no where   to be found. a thought that he might be in trouble or worse invaded her mind, creating a bit of panic within her chest like a million bats pinging off her rib cage. thankfully, it dawned on her to check the roof.

                        saraya breathed a sigh of relief after making her way out into the chilled air.   his safety   was prioritized before how cold she was. seeing that he was merely smoking a cigarette and getting some fresh air was as though a tremendous, burdening weight was lifted from her shoulders. the closer they’d gotten since his move to smackdown the year prior, the more she’d found herself doing   everything possible   to keep him safe and keep him in her life; he reminded saraya to learn to live and she’d be eternally grateful for that.

                        “   don’t worry about me bein’ cold,   ”       a small smile spread with a light rosy tint to her cheeks that the brit would pass off as the cold irritating her skin if she   had to. long, yet slow strides toward him were lazily taken before getting to a point she was able to plop down beside jeff. jet black tresses fell to the side with a tilt of the head, wondering what   exactly   was going on inside his mind, but that was probably as big of a mystery to him as it was to her, she thought.      “   so... you gonna share or make me look like   a twat   waiting for a cig?   ”      it was an attempt to lighten the mood, show him she was not judging or shaming him for smoking in any sort of way. she had a few times before and if it helped him   ease his nerves, she’d gladly support that.