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novaursa · 3 days ago

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A Tower's Tragedy

- Summary: After Gwayne is forced to break up your secret affair, a tragedy follows that no scholar will ever record.

- Paring: niece!reader/Gwayne Hightower

- Note: Be aware of the angst and death of the reader.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @deniixlovezelda @duck-duck-goose2 @zizouu23 @aadu2173 @holdingforgeneralhugs

Alicent Hightower sat stiffly in her chair, her hands gripping the armrests as if they might anchor her against the storm brewing inside her. Her son, Aegon, had just departed after yet another tiresome lecture, leaving her drained but determined. She could not afford to rest—not now, not after what she had uncovered.

The soft knock at the door barely registered before she called, “Enter.”

Gwayne Hightower, her younger brother, stepped inside. His hair was neatly combed, his armor polished to a mirror's shine. The image of a dutiful knight. Yet Alicent’s keen eyes, so much like his own, saw the stiffness in his movements, the way his gaze darted away from hers as he approached.

“You sent for me, sister?” His tone was careful, as if he already suspected the nature of this summons.

“Yes, I did.” Alicent gestured to the seat across from her. “Sit.”

He obeyed, lowering himself into the chair with a knight’s precision, though his posture betrayed unease. Alicent let the silence stretch, her eyes fixed on him with the unyielding intensity of a mother who had caught her child in a lie. Gwayne shifted under her gaze but said nothing.

Finally, she spoke. “Do you know what they are saying about you in the servants’ quarters?”

Gwayne’s brows furrowed, his confusion almost convincing. “No, I do not concern myself with idle gossip.”

“You should,” she replied sharply, her tone like the crack of a whip. “For it is your actions that give them something to gossip about.”

He stiffened, his jaw tightening. “Sister, I have no idea—”

“Do not lie to me, Gwayne,” she interrupted, her voice low and cutting. “I know.”

The color drained from his face, and for a moment, he looked every bit the young boy she had once scolded for stealing candied almonds from the kitchens. But this was no childhood mischief. This was a scandal that could unravel everything.

“I… I do not know what you mean,” he said, though the falter in his voice betrayed him.

Alicent leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “Do not insult my intelligence, brother. The Red Keep has eyes everywhere. Did you truly think I would not hear of your… indiscretions?”

Gwayne said nothing, his hands gripping the edges of the chair until his knuckles turned white. Alicent pressed on.

“My daughter,” she hissed, her voice trembling with equal parts fury and disbelief. “Your niece, Gwayne. How dare you? How could you?”

He flinched as if struck, his gaze dropping to the floor. “It was not—”

“Not what?” she snapped. “Not intentional? Not serious? Do you take me for a fool?”

“No!” he exclaimed, finally meeting her eyes. “No, Alicent, I would never— It is not as you think.”

“Then tell me,” she demanded, her voice softening but no less dangerous. “Tell me what it is, because I cannot fathom how a sworn knight of my father’s house could betray his vows in such a manner.”

Gwayne exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. “I… I did not intend for it to happen. But she is… she is not a child, Alicent. She is a woman grown.”

Alicent’s lips thinned, her nails digging into the armrests. “She is a maiden of seventeen, and your blood, Gwayne. Do not speak of her as if she were some tavern wench.”

“I would never treat her as such!” he protested, his voice rising in indignation. “I care for her—deeply. I would never dishonor her.”

“And yet, you have,” Alicent said coldly. “Do you know what they call her now? What they whisper when they think I cannot hear? They call her ‘Hightower’s harlot.’ Do you think she deserves such cruelty? Do you think she deserves to be tarnished by your selfishness?”

Gwayne’s face contorted in anguish. “I never wanted to hurt her,” he said, his voice breaking. “I love her, Alicent. I love her.”

The queen froze, the words hanging heavy in the air between them. Love. How many times had that word been used as an excuse for folly, for ruin? She had seen its effects firsthand—in her own life, in her children’s lives. And now, here it was again, threatening to destroy everything she had worked so hard to protect.

“Love?” she repeated bitterly. “Do you think love will shield her from the scorn of the court? From the wrath of her father? From the consequences of your actions?”

Gwayne looked as though he wanted to argue, but he held his tongue. Alicent rose from her chair, her skirts rustling as she moved to stand before him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look up at her.

“You must end this,” she said firmly. “Whatever has passed between you, it must stop. For her sake, if not your own.”

He shook his head, his expression pained. “I cannot. Alicent, you do not understand—”

“I understand more than you think,” she interrupted, her voice softening ever so slightly. “I understand what it is to love someone you cannot have. But you must let her go, Gwayne. Before this affair destroys you both.”

He looked at her, his eyes filled with a desperation she had not seen in years. “And if I cannot?”

“Then I will do what I must,” Alicent said, her tone hardening once more. “You may be my brother, but she is my daughter. And I will not allow your foolishness to ruin her.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Finally, Gwayne lowered his head, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I will end it,” he said quietly.

Alicent nodded, though her heart ached at the sight of him so broken. “See that you do.”

As Gwayne rose to leave, she called after him. “And Gwayne… if I hear of this again, I will not be so forgiving.”

He paused in the doorway, his back to her. “You will not hear of it again,” he said, his voice heavy with sorrow.

When he was gone, Alicent sank back into her chair, exhaustion washing over her. She closed her eyes, her mind racing with thoughts of what might come next. The damage had already been done, but she would not allow it to spread further. She would protect her daughter, no matter the cost.

The morning was crisp and gray as Gwayne Hightower mounted his horse outside the gates of the Red Keep. The city was just beginning to stir, merchants opening their stalls and beggars shuffling into the streets. His escort of four knights sat astride their mounts, ready to accompany him on the long journey to Oldtown. The weight of his armor felt heavier than usual, though he had forgone the usual green and silver cloak of his house. There was no pride in this departure. This was exile.

He glanced back toward the castle one last time. The Red Keep’s towers loomed high against the sky, their sharp spires reaching toward the heavens like cruel fingers. Somewhere within those walls, you remained, perhaps still weeping from the conversation the night before. He had not meant to hurt you, but obedience to Alicent’s command had left him no choice.

“I love you,” you had whispered, tears streaming down your face, your voice trembling as if the confession itself might shatter you. “Does that mean nothing to you?”

“It means everything,” he had said, his own voice breaking. “And that is why this must end.”

The memory of your anguished cries haunted him now, an echo that refused to fade. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the vision. It was done. He had done what was required of him, what Alicent had demanded. He would leave for Oldtown, put distance between himself and the court, and pray that time would dull the ache in his chest.

As the gates of King’s Landing receded behind him, Gwayne forced himself to focus on the road ahead. The journey to Oldtown would be long, but perhaps the monotony of travel would offer some solace.

The group had made camp by the time the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world into hues of deep orange and purple. The crackle of the fire offered the only sound besides the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. Gwayne sat apart from his men, his gaze fixed on the flames. He had scarcely touched his supper, his appetite stolen by the storm of emotions within him.

“Ser Gwayne,” one of the knights called, breaking the silence. “A rider approaches.”

Gwayne stood, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his sword. The rider came quickly, his horse lathered with sweat, and when he dismounted, Gwayne recognized him as a messenger from the Red Keep.

“Ser Gwayne,” the man panted, his face pale with exhaustion. “I bring grave news from King’s Landing.”

Gwayne’s heart sank. “What has happened?”

The messenger hesitated, his eyes flickering to the knights around them. “It would be best if I spoke with you privately, my lord.”

“Speak plainly,” Gwayne commanded, his voice hardening. “What news do you bring?”

The messenger swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he reached into his satchel and produced a scroll. “Princess Y/N… she… she has passed.”

The world seemed to tilt beneath Gwayne’s feet. “What do you mean, passed?” he demanded, his voice rising with desperation. “How?”

“She…” The messenger faltered, unable to meet Gwayne’s gaze. “She flung herself from the battlements of Maegor’s Holdfast. Her body was found on the stones below.”

For a moment, Gwayne could not breathe. The words crashed over him like a wave, drowning him in their weight. His knees buckled, and he stumbled back, catching himself on a tree. The knights exchanged uneasy glances, unsure whether to intervene.

“You lie,” Gwayne said, his voice trembling with rage and disbelief. “She would not… she could not…”

The messenger shook his head, his expression filled with pity. “I am sorry, my lord. The Queen herself confirmed it. She bade me deliver the news to you.”

Gwayne’s vision blurred, his mind racing with a thousand questions. Why? Why would you do such a thing? Had his rejection wounded you so deeply? He had thought his words harsh, yes, but necessary. He had believed that time and distance would heal the pain he had caused. But now… now there was no time. No distance. Only the cruel finality of your absence.

The camp was silent as Gwayne sat by the fire, his head in his hands. His knights kept their distance, whispering amongst themselves but leaving him to his grief. The messenger had departed, leaving behind only the cold reality of his words.

“She is gone,” Gwayne muttered to himself, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. “Gone because of me.”

He thought of your smile, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke of dragons and poetry, of the stolen moments you had shared in the shadowed corridors of the Red Keep. He had loved you, though he had never dared to say it aloud. And now, that love had destroyed you.

The fire crackled, sending sparks into the night sky, and Gwayne’s sorrow turned to anger. Anger at himself for his weakness, at Alicent for her interference, at the world for its cruel injustices.

“This is not justice,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “This is not mercy.”

The next morning, Gwayne rose before dawn, his face haggard and his eyes hollow. He gave orders for the camp to be packed and for the journey to Oldtown to resume. But as his horse trotted along the winding road, his thoughts remained fixed on the Red Keep, on the battlements where you had stood, and on the stones where your life had ended.

In his heart, Gwayne swore an oath. He would not forget you, nor would he forgive those who had forced this tragedy upon you. Not Alicent, not Otto, not even himself.

The journey to Oldtown stretched before him, but the road behind him was littered with ghosts. And he carried the heaviest one in his heart.

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #fire and blood #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #game of thrones #hotd gwayne #gwayne hightower #ser gwayne #gwayne x reader #gwayne x you #gwayne x y/n #house hightower #house targaryen

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covenofagatha · 2 days ago

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I'm a good girl, Detective (Part 3)

Word count: ~2600

Warnings: pure filth, rough sex, strap-on, blowjob, oral, lots of degradation but also softness

A/N: the part 3 no one asked for lol, just wanted a little break from sugar mommy Agatha plot to write some rough sex but part 2 for that story should be up tomorrow. Hope you guys enjoy!

You can tell by the way that the door to the house slams open that your girlfriend has had a bad day.

All you were doing was dusting off the countertop and arranging a vase of daisies in one of Agnes’s purple t-shirts when all of a sudden, a sound reverberated through the walls.

Keys jangle loudly as they’re thrown into the key bowl by the entrance and footstops make their way into the kitchen. You look up and give your girlfriend, who is wearing an angry expression and the pants she always looks so good in, a cheerful smile.

She doesn’t return it. Your lips drop into a frown.

You moved in with Agnes only about a week after that fateful night when she had finally given into your flirting and fucked you. It had been a month since then, a month since you had stopped being a prostitute and instead stayed at home while Detective Agnes Harkness went off to work everyday.

In that month, you had learned a lot about her: favorite foods, favorite movies, how to read her moods, how sometimes she wanted to come home and make out with you for hours with you on her lap, or sometimes she wanted you to eat her out, or she wanted to fuck you roughly in the bed you shared. It depended on how the workday had gone.

But you’re not sure you’d ever seen her like this.

She is steaming. She had at least never not smiled back at you.

“Baby, you okay?” You ask tentatively. Agnes had walked straight past you and grabbed a bottle of beer. She scoffs and turns around to lean against the counter so she’s facing you. You’re distracted for a second by her finger tracing the rim of the bottle but you snap back to focus on her.

“Work was awful,” she practically growls. “Everyone I work with is completely incompetent and Chief doesn’t give a fuck, just expects me to clean up everyone’s messes.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” you say and walk over to her. She raises an eyebrow at your proximity and you wrap your arms around her shoulders. She tenses for a moment and then the hand not holding her drink comes around you. The two of you stay like that for a beat before you ask “Is there anything I can do?” The words come out hotly muffled against her neck and you don’t miss the goosebumps that rise.

“Hmm, that depends,” she muses thoughtfully. Confused, you pick your head out of the crook it was resting in and look at her. For the first time this evening, you see a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “Can you be a good toy and let me use you for some stress relief?”

Dumbfounded (and immediately turned on), you nod eagerly. She cups your chin and tilts it up so she can see you better.

“I need you to say it, doll.”

“Fuck, please, Agnes, use me, want you to use me,” you plead frantically. All you need right now is her hands on you.

Her eyes trace your face, looking for a hint of doubt or hesitation. When they find none, her hand slides down to your throat and she squeezes and drags your mouth to hers. She wastes no time sucking on your tongue and stealing your breath with the filthy and bruising kiss. You don’t even notice that she’s walking you backwards until you hit the wall and she slides a thigh between your legs.

You’re already so wet – you always are, for you – so you start to grind. She breaks the kiss to lean back as much as she can and watch you move on her. Amusement is written on her face and she takes a sip of the drink still in her hand and then presses the bottle to your lips.

Not breaking eye contact, she raises it and you open your mouth so the beer can slide down while your hips are still rubbing your cunt against her leg. It’s an act that isn’t sexual in nature, but turns you on even more just the same. You can almost feel the electricity in the air between you and she tips the bottle up even more.

She laughs when you splutter on the drink and pulls you back in for another kiss. You whine into her mouth, needing more than just her thigh.

And then her leg between yours is gone. You whimper before you can stop yourself at the loss of the stimulation.

You’re still aching though.

She walks back to put the beer bottle on the counter and then back to you, your heart rate climbing drastically.

Before you can think, she grabs your bicep and whirls you around, shoving you against the wall. She grabs your wrists and holds them together. A moan escapes from your mouth at the roughness, which turns you on more than you thought it would. You hear her fumbling with something and then you feel cold metal click around your right wrist, and then your left.

You gasp involuntarily.

She handcuffed you.

If you weren’t already dripping before, you certainly are now.

Agnes soothingly runs a hand on your asscheek over your (her) shirt. And then she leans in, presses her body against yours, and you feel a hardness in her pants.

Your brain short-circuits.

She must realize you’ve caught on and she moves her hips up, grinding the toy against you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, already dizzy with pleasure.

“Do you remember the safe word? Because I’m going to be rough, baby,” she says right into your ear.

You nod. “It’s ‘cake.’ Please, Agnes, want you to be rough, please use me.” You’re babbling now and you can feel her smiling against your skin.

“Good girl,” she purrs and spins you back around. “Get on your knees.”

The tile floor stings on your bare knees but you don’t even wince. You barely even notice it with how needy you are for her. What you do notice is the wet spot that is now on her navy pants from you rubbing yourself on her.

“Such a desperate slut, aren’t you,” Agnes says fondly, clearly seeing it herself.

“I am, for you,” you breathe and delight in the way her eyes darken more.

Your mouth practically waters as she undoes her belt, button, and zipper. She doesn’t even take off her pants, just reaches in and pulls out the purple strap-on that’s come to be your favorite. You prefer it this way; it feels more dirty.

“Were you wearing this the whole day?” You ask in awe, peering up at her just in time to watch her roll her eyes.

“Shut up and put your mouth to good use,” she snarls, hand fisting your hair and pushing you closer to the toy.

As if you’d ever say no. You open your mouth and lightly suck on the tip. It’s weird not having the use of your hands to leverage yourself, but you’ll make do. You run your mouth up the length, not taking your eyes off Agnes, who has her head thrown back like she can feel it. You slowly engulf the toy, forcing your mouth further down, and you gag.

“Such a good whore on her knees for me,” she groans, the hand in your hair urging you on. You can feel your saliva drooling out of your mouth as you move up and down on her, your jaw starting to hurt. “So fucking desperate for anything I give you. Such a perfect toy.”

You made some garbled noises in agreement, never stopping your administrations. She puts her other hand on your head and starts thrusting hard, your raw throat screaming for air and tears in your eyes. However, you can hear the sounds the toy makes in your mouth and that coupled with Agnes’s moans has your underwear sticking to you and the inside of your thighs soaked.

When it becomes too much, Agnes pulls out and you gasp for breath. She smears the strap all over your mouth and cheeks, making you more of a mess. She then clasps your cheeks and her thumbs wipe under your eyes, where you’re sure your mascara has started running.

“Are you alright?” She murmurs. One thing that you love about Agnes is that no matter how rough she is with sex, she always checks on you and makes sure you know how much she adores you. How soft she can get is one of your favorite things about her.

“I’m good,” you answer, voice hoarse but sincere. She seems to believe you because she hauls you up by the arm and over to the counter and shoves you down. She reaches down to move your underwear to the side and feel your pussy and chuckles meanly when she finds how ruined you are.

“God, you’re so pathetic, aren’t you? Being on your knees for me makes you this wet, it’s embarrassing. You’re such a slut,” she sneers and slaps your ass. The impact makes you jump with a moan and your hands try and scramble to touch anything but they’re still handcuffed behind you. All you can do is whimper. “What do you want, doll?”

You try to wiggle your hips against her hand but she pulls away and the air is cold on your cunt lips. “Want you, Aggie,” you mewl. You know what she wants to hear. “Want you to use me like the slut that I am, the slut I am only for you. Just your whore, just want you to fuck me like I need to be fucked.”

“Good girl, princess,” she purrs and she shoves the toy inside you. You moan louder than you ever have at the stretch and your head drops to the countertop. Her hands grip your hips so hard you can’t wait to see the marks tomorrow.

“Fuck, Aggie,” you pant and she sets a fast pace, spanking your ass every now and then.

All you can do is make noises. You try to form words but your brain isn’t working. You get so in your head sometimes, but Agnes always has a way of making you let go. It works so well for both of you.

“God, such a good toy for me, letting me use you whenever I need,” Agnes says. “So desperate to please me, you’d do whatever I wanted, wouldn’t you?”

You groan in response, the toy hitting every single right place inside you. It drags deliciously against your walls and she’s angling it just perfectly so every stroke has you wanting to scream. You feel so full, so good.

She pushes the shirt you’re wearing up and begins leaving kisses and sucking marks into your back, never letting up on her bruising pace.

“Fuck, baby, please, so close,” you say. You don’t think you could form a sentence if you tried. “So good, need more, wanna cum.”

She reaches one hand around you and rubs your clit in tiny, little circles. You clench around the toy, even more bliss spreading through your body. You can feel the tension building in the cracks and crevices of your body and you know it’s about to snap.

“Can I cum, please, Aggie, can I cum for you?” It has become an unspoken rule that you need her permission.

“Cum all over my cock like the slut that you are,” she growls and it takes three more thrusts and a perfectly timed stroke of your clit and you completely come undone. Your gasps turn pitchy and high and you think you almost black out for a second.

She doesn’t pull out right away when you finally crash back down and she peppers kisses all over your cheeks from behind.

“How are you doing?” She checks and you smile adoringly and nuzzle your face against hers.

“That was great, baby,” you say with complete honesty. You wince as she finally pulls out and then digs the key for the handcuffs out of her pockets. You flex your wrists when they’re finally off and she turns you around so she can hug you.

“My beautiful girl,” she murmurs against your forehead. After staying like that for a few more minutes, just soaking each other in, you head up to the bedroom, stopping for a quick, soft make-out session on the stairs.

“Do you feel better now, baby?” You ask once you’re both lying in bed, you wrapped in Agnes’s arms again. She had gotten you some new clothes and helped you put stuff on the marks on your wrists from the cuffs so they weren’t as painful tomorrow.

“I do, doll. Thank you.”

And then it strikes you that the older woman hasn’t cum yet.

That won’t do.

You wiggle out of Agnes’s grasp and make your way under the covers despite her protests and confusion.

She quickly picks up what you’re trying to do when you tug at the sweatpants that she sleeps in. She raises her hips to help you move them and you let out a gasp when you see how absolutely wet she is.

“You were going to go to sleep like this?” You say accusingly. She tangles a hand in your hair preemptively, feeling your breath against her mound. She’s so sensitive that her hips are already starting to buck. “What about relieving your stress?”

“You were my stress release,” she answers through gritted teeth as you run your tongue up her, collecting her wetness. “Fuck, baby.”

You smirk against her and do it again. Agnes likes it slow and dragged out because you usually get her so turned on that it doesn’t take very long for her to cum.

Her moans grow louder and more frequent as you keep doing what you’re doing, swirling your tongue around her clit and sucking and then dipping inside her pussy. Your hands rest on her thighs, occasionally digging in whenever she makes a noise or says something that turns you on again.

“Yes, doll, just like that, that’s perfect,” she sighs, starting to ride your face. “Stick out your tongue and just let me grind against you. Let me take what I want.”

So you do. Using her hands for leverage, Agnes drags her hips up and down your open mouth, picking up her pace. You can feel her about to cum and you moan against her pussy to help her get there. You know how sensitive she gets and you just want her to feel good.

“Fuck, yes, baby, going to cum,” she says, her breathing becoming short and gaspy. All the tells are there and her voice breaks off as she finally cums all over your face. You lap at her through the aftershocks until she pulls you away after a few moments. She tugs you up by your hair into a long kiss.

“Do you feel even better now?” You joke and she smiles fondly at you, moving a piece of hair out of your face.

“I do, princess. You’re perfect.”

Your nose wrinkles. “No, you are.”

She chuckles lightly and kisses your lips and then your nose. “Come here, baby. Want to cuddle with you. You were so good for me today.”

You happily snuggle into her side, content to stay that way forever.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #kathryn hahn x reader #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha all along

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delilahsturniolo · 2 days ago

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no body, no crime

— m.s

chapter 1 . . . denial

in which. . . you and matt are private investigators, trying to figure out an unsolved murder from years ago.

warnings. . . mentions of murder, death, suicide.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. do not take inspiration without asking permission first and please credit me if you are taking inspiration from my writing. happy reading! :)

(this is based off of the book series a good girls guide to murder!)

“i think he did it but I just can't prove it.”

“no, no body, no crime.”

“but I ain't letting up until the day I die.”

the cursor on your computer moved quickly as you scrolled through different articles. you were sat in your office, your eyes glued to your laptop screen. you read the headline of the article you opened, it was published in 2015.

EMILY JONES, 17 year old girl brutally murdered by her boyfriend on June 17th, 2015.

you scoffed in disbelief as you read this.

everyone knows the story. emily was at a party with her boyfriend justin, they got into an argument and he shot her, a few moments later killing himself.

blah blah blah, you were tired of hearing that. you don’t think that’s what happened, you refused to believe it.

and why exactly? you didn’t know. but what you did know, is that you had every desire to find out what truly happened.

everyone in the detective agency thinks you’ve gone insane. there was no way you were so intrigued by a murder that happened years ago, you wouldn’t stop digging into it.

it was just all so weird, nothing added up. the police refused to investigate further, closing the case without explanation. it was suspicious, really suspicious…

and you were going to figure out the truth. what really happened to emily and justin that night?

you bit your lip, abruptly shutting your laptop and getting up. you walked out of your office and through the headquarters, entering the office of the only person you knew could help you.

detective matthew sturniolo. one of the best investigators in the company. well, to you not really. you thought he was just like any other detective. either that, or you refused to believe he was better than you. you sighed, knocking on his door.

“don’t come in!” he grumbled from the other end. you only rolled your eyes, entering his office. he turned his head to look at you from his desk.

“didn’t i just say don’t come in?” he narrowed his eyes at you. you just chuckled sarcastically. “oops.” you shrugged, taking a seat on the chair opposite of him.

“okay so what ever happened to asking—“ matt began to speak up, you cut him off though.

“i don’t need your sarcasm right now, i need help.” you interrupted, your voice laced with a pleading tone, which matt was a little taken aback by.

“you’re asking me for help? that’s a first.” matt crossed his arms, but leaning a little closer to hear your request.

you weren’t amused by his response. you took the file you were holding and placed it down in front of him. matt’s eyes furrowed in confusion, he looked up at you, his blue eyes meeting yours.

“what’s this?” he questions.

“open it and you’ll see.” you replied, gesturing to the file. matt huffed, opening the file. his eyes widened slightly as he looked at what was inside.

“y/n, really? the emily jones case? you still won’t let this shit go?” matt scolded you, his eyes analyzing the old police reports and statements inside the file. he closed the file and pushed it back toward you.

“if you’re asking me to feed into your crazy delusions and help you solve a case that’s already been solved years ago.” matt mocked you, making air quotation marks with his hands. however, you only shook your head.

“you don’t get it, i don’t think justin killed emily, it had to have been—“

“y/n, stop! everyone knows the story. justin killed emily, and he killed himself after. his DNA was on the gun. just let it go.” matt’s voice softened at his last few words.

you grabbed the file, opening it and taking out a few of the papers. you looked up at matt.

“don’t you find it weird? how the police did absolutely nothing? they didn’t even try to investigate further, they jumped to conclusions and were so quick to close the case. emily and justin were in a happy, healthy relationship. why would he just shoot her? you don’t find that a little odd? all of the suspects have different stories, something else happened that night. and, someone out there knows.” you explained to matt, his eyes locking with yours.

“matt, i don’t care if this happened years ago. people deserve to know the truth. it’s our job, we need to re open this case.” you pleaded.

matt took a long, deep breath. “alright.” he spoke casually, your eyed widened in surprise.

“wait, what?”

“alright. i’ll help you, but on one condition.” matt leaned in closer.

“just know that this doesn’t mean i don’t absolutely despise you anymore, you better not be wasting my fucking time with this shit, okay?” matt crossed his arms, you eagerly nodded.

“i promise, pinky promise.” you held out your pinky for matt to take, he chuckled lightly and connected his pinky with yours before letting go.

“alright then, let’s do this.”

“you’re on, sturniolo.”

join the taglist here! 🤍

a/n 💌: WOOHOOO first series! what do you all think?

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a1ecmcdowell · 2 days ago

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bonnie!reader & clyde!dean - the name of the game, baby!

includes, crime :( but for the good of the people! the sexual tension is high but nothing ever gets done ab it sorry for the edging pt 2 soon tho

★ ˚⋆

times were tough these days. dean hadn't known a moment of peace from the very moment he decided that hunting wasn't doing shit for sustaining him, and, well... when he met you.

he'd made up his mind already that hunting was a deadend for him. as much as it killed him to think, it was. how could you keep up a job that didn't pay you, and expect to stay afloat? he wasn't.

it started with dining and dashing when he could, scrounging together the scraps of change and loose bills in his pockets for better things than something like a meal that he had to have or he'd die. putting money directly into corporate pockets when he'd then be out of a bed for the night was not something that he ever wanted to do.

until he met you. by chance, and by the threads of fate, you wound yourself around his heart and never let go.

he was finishing up the handful of fries on his plate, eyes drifting around the room as the waitresses moved to-and-fro. they hadn't stopped by him in a while, so he figured that he was either safe, or about to get approached and interrogated about another round of beer.

he'd take one, sure, but it'd be added to a tab he wasn't going to pay, so it was in their best interest to keep their noses out of his business.

one of the women catches his eye anyways, and she's making her way over with a noticeable sway of her hips and a swish to her long blonde hair, when-

the bell over the entrance door rings as the glass bursts open. in stumbles you, buttoning up the white blouse you wore without even looking up from it, loose and disheveled hair swaying in the burst of air your entrance caused.

you were beautiful, even in your mess, and even when your mouth opened to beg for forgiveness to a man behind the counter. "sorry! my car is shit, it wouldn't start, and-"

"louise has been covering your ass for thirty extra minutes," the man interrupts, his face stoic and unbreakable. "unpaid. don't apologize to me on your lack of punctuality, apologize to louise."

dean watches the whole exchange from his red-cushioned booth by the window, each second making his eyes narrow further. great. now he was getting a heart about stealing from this joint, just because of the way he now knew you girls were treated here. probably would have to cover his tab yourselves.

he sighs. they can't all be winners.

you're making your way over to him, and at first, with his fry smothered in a slurry of ketchup, he thinks you must be the prettiest girl he's ever seen, and here he is, shoveling down fries like a starved man.

fry drops back onto the plate. the waitress who'd been on her way over to dean is halted by your worried little mouth running all over again. "louise-"

"fuck him. i don't mind a second of it." louise pats your forearm with her hand. "it's not even been busy. he's just a dick. this one's my last."

her free hand lifts to gesture at dean, and he again feels a flush of awareness when louise turns to him, and then follows you. your eyes nearly freeze him on the spot. big and bright. christ.

"no, it's okay, i've got him," you say, and the smile you give to him and then to her does freeze him, ice cold and solid in this shoddy little booth. "you just head on home, alright?"

dean at least tries to look like he hadn't been eavesdropping. drops his head again, picks up that discarded fry from his plate.

"hi, sorry about that," you say around a frazzled sigh when you approach his table, and he can't help but bristle at how many apologies he's heard you utter in the last five minutes, all of them unnecessary. "anything i can getcha?"

he actually cannot stop looking at you. you missed a button three down from your collar, the shirt a bit crooked because of the slip. your nimble hands were in the process of tying your hair up and out of your face, flyaways dancing in the fluorescents of the diner like strands of glitter.

no, he wasn't planning on getting anything else. had cemented that idea the moment he decided he couldn't just steal from this place.

but the thought of asking for the check after only getting a few moments with you... wasn't going to fly for him.

dean lifts the empty glass bottle from the edge of his table. "just another one of these, sugar."

your lips curl something wicked, and he doesn't know why, but he knows that he feels like a teenage boy again, with the way his heart flutters at the sight. "that it?"

"yeah, that's it," and you really are a little minx, not as innocent as the act you give to your boss and your coworkers, because he can almost see the fire brewing behind your eyes, "why, you got somethin' else you wanna give me?"

that usually gets him a flush, bright pink warmth on the faces of the waitresses he says it too. you, though, only seem to brighten at the question. fire stoked. "a piece of my mind, maybe."

"alright, so sit that pretty ass down and give it to me."

you seem taken aback by it for a second, your entire face warming to such a pretty pink. your eyes flit back to the kitchen, and then to the open space in the booth across from him, and slowly, you sink down into it.

"hit me, sugar," dean says, leaning back against the ruby red cushions, "give me a little piece of that mind."

"you were gonna steal, weren't you?" you say, so fast and quick that he's taken aback this time. "when lou was leavin'. you were bankin' on her back being turned."

dean resists the urge to whistle under his breath. what an odd little talent that is, catching crimes before they happen. "nah."

"'nah'," you mimic, and his eyebrows shoot up on his forehead, "i know your type. thinkin' you're some kind of robin hood, skippin' the dollar on big brother."

"i'm not going to, sugar," he insists, more firmly this time, feeling a little on edge by your blasé attitude. he'd expect someone so accurate in their assessments to already have him by the ear, leading him into the hands of the guys with cuffs. "can't make you pay for food you didn't eat, can i?"

"i can afford a beer and a plate of fries, babe," you shoot right back at him, a sickly sweet smile on those pretty pink lips of yours. "i can't afford to sit here and waste my time cracking jokes with a joke."

dean does whistle this time, a scoff of laughter falling from his mouth. "y'think i'm a joke, huh?"

"i think anyone who claims they're doing things to damn the man is." your arms fold over your chest, the blouse bunching up beneath your breasts and pushing them up just enough-- "hey. eyes up here." fuck. "that's exactly what i'm sayin'. all damn the man but you're still a tool."

"that mean you wanna use me?"

this little back and forth was the most fun dean had had in weeks. months, even, if he discredited the cheap nights with easy girls in dirty motel rooms.

"no," you stumble the words out, spluttering them out like they burn your tongue. "i don't even know your name."

"dean."

your eyes linger on his for a few moments longer, like you're trying to assess if this is another one of his lies. you must like what you see reflected back, though, because you smile, slow and languid. "dean."

the silence that follows is short-lived and buzzing. then, your lips part again. "were you really going to dine and dash?" a test. you don't sound mad, or like you're interested in turning him in at all.

his shoulders lift in a slight shrug. "that's just the name of the game, baby." he leans forward with his elbows resting on the rickety table between the two of you. "damn the man, right?"

one second passes, then two, and then you're snatching a fry from the plate in between you, dipping it in the pool of ketchup on the edge of his plate. "there are much more fun ways to damn the man."

notes, WEEEEEE i was gonna do fallen angel!dean first but something ab these two were STUCK in my head hope u dont mind

tags, @jasvtsc @depressionbarbie2023 @figthoughts @titsout4nicholas

(if u wanna be added to this btw / u are supposed to be and i keep forgetting pls know it's not a vendetta i am just a silly lil lady who doesn't know what she's doing ok)

#──★ ˙🍓 dahlia’s jrnl #──★ ˙🍉 dean x saga #jensen ackles #dean winchester #bonnie and clyde #bonnie!reader x clyde!dean #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester one shot #spn #supernatural #supernatural one shot #spn one shot

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tyunized · 2 days ago

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AFTERCARE WITH TXT~ (thoughts)

warnings :: mentions of sex (minors dni 🔞), mentions of oral, fluff, long-termbf!txt, touching, kissing. Did I miss any?

fem!reader

note :: Since you all liked the PDA with TXT thoughts, I think you will like this one ❤ again thank you for 100+ notes on that one guys, I really appreciate it.

my rules.

🌱 ― Soobin.

After making love to you, he would gently fetch a cool, damp cloth to tenderly wipe you down, knowing how steamy and hot things can get. As he soothes your skin, he can't resist stealing soft kisses here and there, his lips brushing against yours with warmth. Between each gentle touch, he whispers sweet reassurances, telling you just how amazing you were “The way you rode me was amazing, baby”.Then a gentle touchy cuddle session will happen, he enjoys cuddling face to face with you, caressing your shoulders or hands, just admiring your beauty.

🌱 ― Yeonjun.

Yeonjun would carefully wipe you down with a cool towel also like Soobin, ensuring your comfort after the intimacy you shared. Thoughtful as ever, he'd make sure you stay hydrated, offering you a glass of water or a soothing cup of tea. Once you’re refreshed, he’d wrap you in a warm blanket, pulling you close as his gentle voice asks about your favorite moments, eager to hear what made you moan the loudest. Between your words, he’d pepper you with soft kisses on your forehead. reminding you how much he adores every part of you. As the conversation flows, he’d share his own favorite moments, his voice warm and filled with affection, making sure you know just how much he treasures the time you spend together.

🌱 ― Beomgyu.

Beomgyu wouldn’t miss the chance to tease you after sex, a playful smirk lighting up his face as he leans in close. “I guess I really am the only one who can make you feel like that,” or “You were losing it when I ate you out—you really can’t handle me, can you?” His teasing would leave you flustered, he loves your adorable reactions. But beneath his playful personality, Beomgyu is just as caring. He’ll encourage you to take it easy, his tone softening as he says, “You should rest now, babe. It’s good for you.” He believes the importance of letting your body recover, insisting that sleep or relaxation is the best way to recharge. Pulling you into his arms or tucking you in with a warm blanket, he’d make sure you’re completely comfortable before letting the teasing drop, just for a little while.

🌱 ― Taehyun.

Taehyun is all about romance, he’ll run a warm bath for both of you (candles and everything). Terry doesn’t recognize his own strength sometimes so he knows sex can be a bit rough, causing you to be a bit sore afterwards. He’d run a warm bath for both of you, and bring in your favorite bath oils. The water would be just the right temperature, the soft glow of candles dancing off the surface as he guides you in first, his hands steady and reassuring.Settling in behind you, he’d let you lean against his chest, with his muscles gently hugging around your shoulders and neck. His wet hands, firm yet gentle, would glide over your skin, seeking out every knot of tension. Starting with your shoulders, he’d work his way down your back. “Does this feel good for you, love?”

🌱 ― Hueningkai.

Kai will make sure that you have a cozy environment after sex, setting up more pillows if you need, dim lighting, making up the bed. With quiet care, he smooths out the sheets and straightens the blankets, making the bed a sanctuary (STREAM THE ALBUM) of warmth and relaxation. He moves with ease, pausing to check in with you, his gentle smile or a soft touch on your shoulder letting you know he’s focused entirely on your comfort. As he finishes, he might sit beside you, brushing a strand of hair from your face or whispering sweet words, ensuring you feel completely safe, loved, and at peaceful space that he created.

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kigieri · 3 days ago

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Resting Stars

Max Verstappen × Reader

What happens when you've reached your dreams and goals? Max Verstappen has just won his fourth world title, and before he has to race again, he shares a few moments with the most important person in his life.

A/N: Surprise fic! I had to post something for our man! Four-time World Driver's Champion! This was written very sleepily during the race, and I'm very happy with it. I hope you enjoy it.

This fic on AO3!

The flat was silent. She trotted into the kitchen after doing her morning routine in the bathroom. Max was already sitting at the table, drinking coffee from his favourite mug. He smiled when he saw her and she returned it.

His face was more contemplative than that of a fresh four time world champion should be. She made herself a tea, before sitting opposite him. "Are you still sure?" He looked at her and nodded. "Yeah, I want to do something else." She nodded too and took as sip from her mug. "Then it seems decided."

They shared a quiet breakfast before slumping down on the sofa. Their sleeping rhythm had been destroyed by Las Vegas, especially after the party they had had. Max had another race on the next weekend and there were still celebrations to be had and congratulations to be accepted, but for now they simply wanted to enjoy the peace and quiet.

"Are we going to get more cats?" She looked up at him from where she had laid her head in his lap. He shook his head. "I'm still going to race, just not F1." He looked over at the patch of sun where Donatello was laying. "When I'm old and gray and don't leave the house any more we can get more."

Silence settled over them once more, Jimmy jumped onto her stomach and rolled up, waiting for her to pat him, which she did. "It's going to be weird. Way weirder for you than for me."

He nodded his head. "Yeah, but I'm going to like it. Doing something else will be good." She looked back up at him from where her eyes had been focused on the cat. "You're going to miss it, even if you don't want to admit it."

He made a questioning face. "Won't deny that I'll miss it, but I'm going to enjoy doing something else, and I can always go back. Someone's bound to take me. But I don't think I will. I'll just enjoy life, racing, being with you, with the cats. Not a care in the world." She cuddled closer to him, if that was humanely possible, and let her eyes drift back to Jimmy.

Max looked down at her, thinking about the ring box that was securely hidden away between his Sim gear. Life would be very different, but he was more than happy with that. His time had come and gone, not in the eyes of others, but in his own. He had loved racing in F1 with his whole heart, but that heart beat for racing, not only in a single category, so he wanted to see more of the world, more of racing. There was so much to be explored, and he had reached his goals in Formula 1.

His retirement would surprise some, but not others. He would be happy with it, had made peace with it before he had voiced the idea for the first time. At this moment, while sitting with her head in his lap, looking out of the window into Monaco, he knew that this decision would change his life, but he also knew it would be a change he welcomed.

"Ik hou van je." His words were clear and steady and as she looked up at him her smile spread all over her face and her eyes were shinning. "I love you too." Max hand wandered over to hers, where she was stroking Jimmy, and squeezed it shortly, before also starting to stroke the cat. It would be a new, and very welcomed, part of his life.

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dedeinthewild · 3 days ago

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Omd please if you could do a story where arvids girl is teasing him abt being more boyfriendy with pepe bcos they're in the 'honeymoon" phase and she gets jealous

soo, I'm really sorry 'cause it isn't exactly what you requested but I had an idea with Pepe and I wrote it down. Let me know if you like it anyways, or I will make one just like you wanted it!

pepe martí x reader, established relationship

~ "that's a terrible one"

Pepe was determined, kind, and so intelligent that he could make anyone smile just by meeting him.

But above all, he was dedicated.

He was deeply grateful for his journey in motorsport and always trusted the Red Bull driver academy and his team, despite the terrible luck that had made his season challenging.

With the two-month break from Formula 2, and his girlfriend busy with school, lessons, and studying, he had plenty of time to reconnect with the junior categories and work alongside the academy’s new entries.

Among them was the incredible Formula 3 rookie, Arvid Lindblad, who had left everyone in awe and was set to join Campos in the 2025 season.

In the preceding weeks, the Spaniard had traveled to Barcelona to watch the Eurocup3 and Spanish Formula 4 race weekends, reconnecting with his roots. Then, at the team’s request, he and Arvid attended the final MotoGP race, surprising everyone with their instant chemistry before even racing together.

On one side was the tall, polite, composed Spaniard who listened and responded with a smile. On the other was the whirlwind of words that was the British rookie, dressed in oversized trendy outfits, bringing a fresh vibe to Campos.

They had spent a lot of time together, laughing and creating content around the circuit, perfectly delivering what the team wanted while giving fans exactly what they loved.

A week later, Gaby and Christian had decided to organize a weekend in London with Pepe and his girlfriend.

“He’s got Arvid now; he won’t even look at me” his girlfriend joked to the British woman walking beside her, loud enough for Pepe to hear from ahead where he was walking with Christian.

“Sorry?” the Spaniard turned around, hands buried deep in the pockets of his blue jacket.

“I said you don’t even look at me anymore. You’ve got Arvid now.”

“He’s been cheating on me, and you didn’t care to tell me?” Christian chimed in, clutching his chest dramatically as they strolled through St. James’ Park.

Everyone burst out laughing while Pepe’s girlfriend tucked her hands into her scarf, hiding her nose and cheeks, which were slowly turning red from the cold.

“I’m sorry for cheating; Gaby will treat you right” Pepe teased Christian, pretending to steal his girlfriend while Christian clung to his own.

Pepe’s girlfriend, a petite five-foot-something figure walking beside him, smiled. Her hair was tucked into her scarf, and she breathed in the air of a London she loved.

“Are you cold?” Pepe asked, taking her hand and slipping it into the pocket of his Red Bull jacket, his thumb stroking her knuckles.

“I’m always cold, Pepe” she replied, knowing full well that her constant chilliness was something he always took care of.

Pepe and Christian had a strong bond, and seeing them together was a joy. So, when the F3 driver invited them for the weekend, they had packed their bags immediately. Spending time with Christian and Gaby also brought the two women closer, as they, like their boyfriends, perfectly complemented each other, creating a fun and close-knit group.

They loved teasing and joking with each other, and this was the perfect moment to poke fun at Pepe. His girlfriend seized the opportunity without hesitation.

“And what do you mean about Arvid?” Pepe asked, glancing down at her as they walked along the little path that ducks shared with their ducklings.

“He’s all you’ve been thinking about for the past month. Don’t even get me started on those videos.”

Pepe chuckled, raising his eyebrows as if to ask if she was serious. She, however, maintained an honest expression.

“Are you saying that for real?”

“I mean, you’re really boyfriendy with him.”

“And I guess you’re implying that I’m not with you.”

Her head tilted back slightly, the wind brushing her cheeks as she gave him a playful smile. She was joking, and both of them knew it, but they were curious to see how far it would go.

“I mean, you spend a lot of time with him and look at him as if he were the love of your life.”

“And what should I say about you and Gaby?” he retorted, grinning. “You’re always going on your dates; I think she’s a pinned chat on your phone, and—”

She couldn’t help but laugh as Christian and Gaby lined up at a café while she and Pepe stopped, standing face-to-face.

This spot was one of her favorites in London, where she loved walking with a hot chocolate in hand, headphones in, and music blasting.

“I should remind you that it’s only because you’re in your honeymoon phase with Arvid. You’ll see the bad sides later.”

Pepe took her other hand, slipping it into his jacket pocket to warm it with his, moving closer with that sweet look he always wore.

“I have to say, it’s a great honeymoon nonetheless.”

She bit her cheek to keep a straight face, though her playful expression was giving her away.

“And what do you mean by bad sides?” he asked, curious. “Are there bad sides to being with me?”

“Many, many for sure.”

Pepe leaned down slightly, wrapping her completely in his arms and burying her face in his blue Red Bull jacket.

“List them, then,” he teased.

“You’re too nice, and everyone loves you.”

She placed her hands on his shoulders, hugging him back, as Christian and Gaby returned with steaming cups of tea.

“That’s a terrible one" joked the Campos driver, kissing her forehead before handing her the cup Christian had given him.

As they strolled down The Mall, the four chatted, surrounded by a slightly windy but not too damp London, kissed by timid sunshine.

The scent of falling leaves mixed with the sweetness of candied almonds from nearby stands, while some passersby asked for directions, and others watched them laugh and enjoy their time together.

“Pepe and I decided something” his girlfriend suddenly announced, grabbing the attention of Christian and Gaby while Pepe played along.

“We’re splitting up but staying good friends,” she said seriously.

At that moment, the world seemed to crumble for the Australian and the Brit, whose jaws dropped as they stared at Pepe to figure out if it was a joke or the truth.

“We realized we have some differences that the other doesn’t enjoy, unlike with other people, so it’s better this way.”

“What do you mean?” Christian asked, his eyes wide in shock.

“We’ve had some flings” she replied casually.

Gaby, convinced that if those two broke up, she’d never believe in love again, couldn’t process it. Pepe and his girlfriend were the perfect match—two people who effortlessly connected in ways she’d never seen before.

“No, you haven’t” Gaby declared, shaking her head.

Pepe and his girlfriend smiled, struggling to keep the joke going, even though their friends’ sad, confused faces made them feel a bit guilty.

“With who?” Christian asked, earning a gentle smack on the hand from Gaby, who thought it wasn’t the time for such questions.

“Your girlfriend” they replied in unison.

The Australian furrowed his brow, confused.

“Both of you? Pepe?” He was at a loss for words.

“No, stop this nonsense; it’s not funny” he said, visibly upset.

At that moment, Pepe and his girlfriend burst into laughter, exchanging looks as if they had just pulled off the joke of the decade while walking ahead of the group.

“You assholes!” Christian exclaimed, exasperated.

“You actually believed it?” Gaby asked, holding onto Christian’s arm, relieved to see them laugh it off.

“As if you didn’t” Pepe retorted.

That evening, after a lovely dinner at a restaurant near Chinatown, they all headed back to their hotel, trying to teach Pepe how to navigate the Tube using a rule his girlfriend had devised.

“If you miss a train or anything, just get off at the first stop and wait there. We’ll come find you.”

“I’m not a child,” the Spaniard protested, sitting on one of the Piccadilly Line trains with his arms crossed, playfully nudging his girlfriend’s feet as she studied the map.

“I’m quite positive you are” she replied with a smile, focused on the intricate map, unaware that Pepe had taken out his phone and snapped a picture of her.

Later, once they were in their room, changed into their pajamas, and cuddled in bed watching a movie, Pepe sent her the photo.

As she opened the message, he began to speak.

“Honeymoon or not, you’re the only thing about me without bad sides” he said.

She smiled, her eyes soft and warm.

“And I love you like I love yapping about nerdy facts.”

“I think that’s the most thoughtful way you’ve told me you love me.”

Pepe leaned his head back against his hands.

“Still, maybe you’re right. I’m rather boyfriendy with Arvid.”

“Be careful, I’m a little jealous of you,” she said, giving him a quick kiss where his ear met his jawline.

“You said it—everyone loves me,” he joked, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her closer, breathing in her scent and feeling as though, even fifty years from now, they would still be just like this.

Because, as Gaby thought, if those two ever broke up, no one would believe in love anymore.

Beyond all the jokes and teasing, Pepe and that girl had found each other through some stroke of fate, and they were never meant to let each other go.

~ not proofread or anything so there might be a few errors, I hope you all like it 🍀

(please find me a pepe, thanks)

#f2 #f1 #motorsports #prema racing #f3 #formula racing #pepe marti #pepe martí #campos racing #pepe marti x reader

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insidekatmind · 22 hours ago

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Secret love~Pope Heyward

It was a humid afternoon on the beach, the air heavy with the salty scent of the sea and the sun baking the dunes. Sitting on the shiny hood of your SUV, you watched the Pogues playing frisbee farther ahead, JJ’s laughter echoing through the air. But your eyes were fixed on him: Pope Heyward. Despite the differences, despite the fact that you were a Kook and he was a Pogue, something about him had always drawn you in. His intelligence, his calm but determined spirit. And now, after months of secret meetings, the bond between you two had grown into something deeper than you’d ever imagined.

---

“Pope, we have to be careful,” you’d whispered the night before, while the two of you hid in the old warehouse behind the Twinkie. There, far from prying eyes of friends and family, you had found a little refuge.

“Careful about what?” he had replied, his hands clutching yours. “That someone will find out we’re happy? That I, a Pogue, dared to love a Kook?”

His eyes were filled with emotion, a mix of frustration and yearning for freedom. But you knew how risky it was. Being discovered would mean scandal for you and perhaps worse for him.

“It’s not that simple,” you’d said, taking a shaky breath. “You don’t understand how my world works. Appearances are everything. And you… we… we can’t be found out, Pope.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” he’d said, with an intensity that made you hold your breath. “But you know what? I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of acting like it doesn’t mean anything when you’re next to me. I can’t keep hiding as if I’m the one doing something wrong. This is love, not a crime.”

---

The next day, while the other Pogues enjoyed the sun, Pope approached your car quietly. You only noticed him when he knocked lightly on the window.

“We need to talk,” he said, his voice serious.

You knew it wasn’t the right place, but something in his eyes made you nod. You moved to the passenger seat, letting him climb in.

“Are you crazy? What happens if someone sees you here?” you hissed, but he didn’t seem worried at all.

“I don’t care anymore,” he said with disarming sincerity. “I don’t care if JJ or Kie or your family finds out about us. I don’t want our relationship to be a secret. Why should we be ashamed of something so beautiful?”

“Because the world isn’t that simple, Pope,” you replied, your voice trembling. “You live in a world where you’re free to be who you want. I… I’m a prisoner to other people’s expectations.”

“You’re not a prisoner to anything,” he shot back, taking your hand. “You decide who you want to be. And if you can’t break free from these chains, then tell me, is this even worth it? Is it worth hiding, lying, when we could just be happy together, out in the open?”

You felt breathless because a part of you knew he was right. But another part of you was still terrified. That fear kept you awake at night, and now it was keeping you tethered to your world of appearances. You didn’t answer right away. You looked out the window, toward the ocean, as the internal struggle consumed you.

“Pope…” you started, but he interrupted you.

“You’re everything I want,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “But I can’t keep living like I’m stealing something that doesn’t belong to me. Tell me what you really want. Tell me this isn’t just a dream, and I’ll fight anyone for us.”

---

You turned toward the beach, watching the waves crash against the shore. The weight of his words pressed heavily on your heart. You knew Pope was right. You knew that hiding wasn’t fair, that what you felt for each other deserved to be lived in the open. But there was a part of you, the part raised among the rules and expectations of the Kooks, that still resisted.

Yet, at that moment, as you watched him walk away, something inside you changed. You couldn’t let him go. You couldn’t let your love for him be suffocated by fear. You shot to your feet, stepping out of the car and running toward him.

“Pope!” you called out, your voice trembling but resolute. He stopped, turning back with a surprised, almost disbelieving expression. When you reached him, you halted a step away, your breathing uneven.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you said, your voice breaking with emotion. “You’re right. There’s no point in hiding. There’s no point in being afraid. I love you, Pope. And I’m ready to fight for us.”

He stayed silent for a moment, as if trying to process whether you were really saying those words. Then, an incredible smile spread across his face, and his eyes lit up with a happiness you’d never seen before.

“Do you really mean that?” he asked, a trace of hope in his voice.

You didn’t answer with words. You stepped closer and kissed him, oblivious to the world around you. It was a kiss full of emotion, of liberation, as if in that moment, you’d found the courage you’d been missing. You felt his hands wrap around you, his warmth enveloping you. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the Kooks, not the Pogues, not the rules. Just the two of you.

When you pulled away, Pope looked at you with eyes full of emotion. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment,” he said softly, brushing your cheek. “I don’t care what anyone else says. As long as I have you, I can face anything.”

You laughed, a spontaneous and light sound, realizing how silly it had been to be afraid for so long. “Then we’ll face it all together,” you replied. “I’m done hiding.”

As you walked back to the beach, hand in hand, the Pogues looked up at you, clearly surprised. JJ let out a theatrical whistle, and Kie’s eyes widened, but no one said anything. You knew there would be difficult moments ahead, but in that instant, with Pope by your side, you felt invincible.

The choice had been made, and for the first time, you felt truly alive.

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luxheroica · 2 days ago

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under your tree (2/3)

Part 2/3 - our Ekko, Jinx, and the tree.

Part one

Also on AO3

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He drags her off that ledge by stealing seconds and finding the right words, and once he’s pretty sure she won't blow the both of them to smithereens he holds out his hand to her.

Ekko doesn't think it's possible but Jinx takes it. Holds onto it. Her grip is so slight he thinks she might slip away, but as long as he's holding her hand it means she's still here.

“Come with me?” he asks.

She doesn't protest. He isn't sure if it's assent or empty resignation. He's not sure if she knows which one either.

He doesn't know what's happened to her while he was gone. He hasn't seen her since the fight on the bridge, and the only reason he knew she was still alive was the Enforcers were still looking for her. If she were dead it would have been sung from the rooftops.

Jinx is… broken. Not in the way she usually is, mad and manic and dangerous and wild and the creature who replaced the girl he once knew. She is silent, and her cheeks are streaked with black tear tracks.

Ekko takes her to the only place that makes sense. The place that has always represented healing and light for the undercity for him.

He takes her to the tree.

Nobody stops him–he’s Ekko, and he’s returned from the dead, and nobody wants to question him– but the other Firelights scatter when he walks in with Jinx.

This raises the first reaction he's had out of her in their long walk. She snorts. “So, this is your little hideout,” she says, looking around. “Aren't you worried I'll come and blow it up?”

Ekko looks at her sidelong. Maybe before he left and came back. Maybe before he found her like this, with her eyes bruised and her voice faint. “Nah. That's not gonna happen.”

That earns the ghost of a smile from her. “Just wait– the day’s still young.”

He leads her further into the Firelights camp, and she takes it all in with a wide and hungry expression. Her gaze roams over the tree, green and live giving and towering over everything. Her fingers intertwine stronger with his as she takes in the camps all around.

She stops dead when she sees the memorial wall.

Ekko can see her tracing each of them with her eyes and her lips. Claggor. Milo. Vander. Benzo. Vi.

Powder.

He doesn't say a word, and for a long time she stands there in silence. Just staring and taking it all in. For a moment he wonders if he's sent her on another spiral, if he's going to have to play another game of chicken with a bomb meant to end the both of them.

“You really think I'm dead, huh?”

Her voice is light and contemplative and whatever reaction he was expecting it wasn't this. He’s wondering if it would be better to apologize or try to explain, when Jinx blows out a breath.

Her hair runs away from her exhalation. “Not that I would disagree.”

“Powder’s gone,” he says. “But you're still here, Jinx. And I'd like you to stay.”��

She hasn't taken her hand from his. Jinx’s fingers curl. “Huh.”

He’s willing to stay there as long as she needs, hand-in-hand and staring at the memorial wall. He meant it when he said that he gave up on her once, and he isn't going to do it anymore.

“Would you mind?” she asks at last, looking up at the painted faces. “If I added to it?”

Ekko is surprised, and reluctant to leave her alone just now– but he nods. “Sure,” he says. His fingers slip from hers and she doesn't move. “Let me go get some paints. Be right back.”

She doesn't even nod. He's not even sure she's listening. But he goes as fast as he can to gather up his paints and brushes and run back. He's not entirely sure she'll be there when he gets back or whether he’ll find a black scar on the ground.

Jinx is still standing there transfixed by the wall when he dumps the painting supplies at her feet.

“Thanks,” she says, and she spends some time picking out the paints she wants and then hoisting herself up and picking an empty spot on the wall and starting to sketch.

Ekko watches until she turns back to him with a roll of her eyes that's the most normal thing he's seen from her all day. “You can stop hovering like a weirdo, you know. I promise not to blow anything up.”

Thus (mostly) reassured, Ekko leaves her to her painting. A couple of the other Firelights express concern at her presence, but he talks them down. She's not a threat to them, not like this.

And it's time he started trusting her.

Jinx is still painting when exhaustion overtakes him and Ekko at last can't keep his eyes open and longer and he falls into a much needed sleep.

Hours later he starts awake. He's sure that Jinx is going to be gone when he rushes to the memorial wall, but she's there and sleeping under a thin blanket she scavenged from somewhere. Ekko lets out the breath he's been holding.

There are two new figures on the tree. Both are drawn in bright colors– clashing and complimenting his realistic style with neons that nearly hurt the eye. Both figures are nonetheless unmistakable.

One is Silco, and for a moment it feels wrong to see his face on a memorial alongside so many of his victims. But, he thinks, Silco was no less a victim of the undercity. He had hope for a bright future once. Who is this paint depiction hurting?

The other one is a young girl Ekko doesn't recognize. At first he thinks that it is Powder, that Jinx put herself on the tree– but no, it’s someone else entirely. There's brown mixed in with her violently blue hair, and he never saw Powder wear that helmet.

He traces her lines, wondering who she was. Why Jinx felt compelled to draw her on the wall.

“Her name was Isha.”

Ekko turns around to see Jinx waking up and watching him with wide eyes. He steps away from the wall and towards her.

“Who was she?” he asks gently.

At first he thinks she won't answer. That she can't. He won't press her if she doesn't want to.

“A friend,” she says at last. “Just this kid I knew. She followed me around like… some lost puppy. I ran with her for awhile. Begged me for the blue hair like she wanted to be me, like being me was so great. And then she…”

Jinx clutches at her wrist, her fingernails digging deep into skin.

“I'm sorry,” Ekko says, approaching gently.

“Yeah, well, I shoulda known it was coming. Everyone around me dies, remember?”

He thinks that she will stop him when he takes her hand and gently prises her fingers from where they are digging deep furrows in her wrist. Instead she just stares, eyes wide.

“I'm not going anywhere.”

Jinx looks askance at the time travel device resting on his hip. “Yeah, well it helps when you can cheat.” Then her eyes fix on it like she's really seeing it for the first time, and her gaze narrows. “Who was it, this person who taught you there was something worth building?”

Ekko chuckles. “You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.” She folds her arms over her chest in open challenge.

“Sit down,” Ekko says, and to his amazement Jinx obeys by flopping down next to him. He joins her in a cross-legged position as he thinks about what how to begin this story. He hadn’t planned on telling her– there's parts of his journey to that other world that are too personal. “She was you– or, well, another you. From an alternate universe.”

Jinx snorts. “Yeah right.”

“I told you you wouldn't believe me.”

“Oh, I believe you about the alternate universe part. That's just the kind of wild shit that happens in this city. But me, helping you? That's rich.”

Ekko wonders how to explain that other Jinx who never became Jinx, who still went by Powder, who still had most of her family. “Vi was dead, in that other universe. She died young, before everything that happened. And it changed a lot of stuff– Zaun was finally independent and standing on its own, Vander and Silco made up– they were married and running the bar together.”

Jinx makes a face. “Eugh.”

Ekko laughs. “Believe me, it was weird.”

A ghost of a smile flits across Jinx’s lips. “It makes sense though. Vi created the Jinx, so if she died before she could do that…”

Ekko doesn't bother untangling whatever's going on in her head. “And you were– happy. Two dads who loved you, and you had friends, and we were all gunning for this science contest. And you were helping me– or well, she was helping the other Ekko, actually– to build an energy device.”

Jinx tilts her head at him, disbelieving but still listening. “Science contest? And I was in it?”

“Yeah.” Ekko strokes the edge of his time travel device. “Trying to invent something that would help the world. Milo and Claggor had this plant thing that was cleaning up the air, and the other me wanted to build an energy device, but he couldn't do it without your help. She– you– ended up doing like half of the work.”

He sees the way her eyes trace him hungrily, like she doesn't quite believe him but desperately wants to.

“Why'd you leave?”

Ekko turns to her, surprised.

“I mean it sounds perfect– other than Vi, I guess. I wouldn’t have wanted to come back to this shitty universe, except I guess I would have probably fucked that one up too.”

“Because you needed me,” Ekko says. When she raises a skeptical eyebrow he realizes what he said, what it implies. He flushes. “I mean, you all– this universe. And that place, it wasn't mine. I was just borrowing it for a while.”

“Smooth, brain-boy.” Jinx snorts. Then she rocks back so she's staring up at the murals. “What was she like, the other me?”

“Like you,” Ekko says, and she blows out a breath in disbelief. “I'm serious. Maybe she was more stable– she had people around, people who loved her– but she liked to mess with people, and she liked bright colors and tinkering with things.”

“Lucky her.”

“There was a dance, and she wore all this bright makeup, it was neon blue but then there was like this gradient of colors, and… I couldn't help but think, Jinx would totally wear this, if she ever had an occasion she wanted to dress up for.”

Jinx levers herself up on her arms. Scornfully asks, “Ok, was I like your date to the dance?”

“Uhh…”

“Seriously Ekko, what the hell? Did you ask me out in another universe, who does that?”

“You were my girlfriend so it's not like I had much choice!” Ekko defends himself without thinking. Then he cringes. “I mean she was his– the other Ekko’s– girlfriend.”

Jinx taps her fingers on the metal of the platform, thinking. She looks at him askance and he can’t tell what’s going on in that head of hers, but he feels like she’s sizing him up. “You don’t say.”

“I didn’t mean to bring it up,” Ekko says. “I didn’t want you to think I came looking for you only because, well– of her. I came looking for you because it’s you. I gave up on you once, Jinx– I’m not going to do it again.”

She tilts her head at him. Considers him for a long time. “Would you kiss me like her, Ekko?” she asks, almost too quiet to hear, but the words reverberate in his chest. “Like I’m someone who deserves–”

He cuts her off, surging forward to smash his lips to hers. Jinx is surprised, her eyes wide and her whole body tense. Ekko presses, cradling her face like she’s something precious and hard to hold, and she is– his explosive girl, always slipping through his fingers.

Jinx responds at last, surging forward and nipping his upper lip with her teeth. He responds by opening his mouth so she can tease him with her tongue.

At last they break apart, although Ekko doesn’t let go of her face. He only stares at her, amazed that out of every possible universe they’re here.

“You know, I always kind of liked you,” he admits.

Jinx smirks. “Did you now?” And she pulls him in for another kiss.

#arcane #arcane spoilers #timebomb #ekko x jinx #ekkojinx #my writing

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kurishiri · 2 days ago

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18.5 . . . “ a meaningless emotion ”

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— 🤍 his side story, chapter 18. this is one you can purchase on your second play through of his route.

— cw: the very end may be considered suicidal ideation.

Alfons: ...I think I’ve had just about enough of this blasted sob story.

I slipped out of the bed and changed——if I loitered around the castle, running into her would be a pain.

(Today there’ll be some merrymaking happening amongst the eccentric nobility.)

It wasn’t as though I wanted to go out of my way to go there, but it was a perfect way to kill time.

—— Time skip ——

Alfons: Alright then, what shall we bet on next?

Drunken man: I got it! How about this oil painting that my old man said was his most valued one, not that I know anything about it!

Crossdressing woman: Did you steal that? Vincent… huh, who is this? Never heard of him. Isn’t it just a cheap thing?

Alfons: Hehe, I must say it’s quite unlike nobility to worry over the value of the good.

Crossdressing woman: But it’s not so exciting, you know, it’s better to have something that shows its value.

Alfons: Well then… how about I give a dream where “this painting is worth 500 pounds?”

Man smoking a cigar: Oh, that’s a good idea.

Whether it was nobility, drunken people at some street corner of the bar, the orphans at the East End, and what have you, they weren’t so different.

They would find any pleasure they could through gambling, liquor, or sex, so they could live while avoiding their pains and worries.

Drunken nobleman: Hey, Al, is that rumor about you having a recent favorite true?

Noble lady with gloves: Al, you mustn’t become someone’s partner! We need you to stay a star of all single nobles.

Alfons: Yes, yes, such was my intention.

Drunken nobleman: So you say, but your heart’s already taken by that person, isn’t it?

Alfons: Hehe, I digress.

Man smoking a cigar: …Let’s just leave it at that. If we question him any more, he may never come again, and that would sure put us in a bind.

Man smoking a cigar: Even if his heart’s got its sights set on someone, it’s fine as long as he shares some of that pleasure… isn’t that right?

Noble lady with gloves: Well, I suppose. Ahh, I hope my father gives up on matters of my marriage soon…

(‘My heart’s already taken by that person’… huh.)

When I heard those words that seemed to embody the soul of romanticism,

Kate was the one and sole person who came to mind, and for a moment, I felt called out.

——You hurt me so much and leave me in the dust, but now you decide to commit? That’s just cruel…!

At some point, the little robin had made its home within my mind, making an angered face and suddenly turning away.

(Hehe… it’s not as though I’m committing.)

Alfons: Perhaps I do have some guilt left in me… ah, it’s a straight flush.

Drunken man: Al’s win again?!

As I was staring in a daze at the trump cards raining and fluttering down,

just as I had intended, time melted away into idleness.

I ended up drinking through the night until dawn and having a meat pie from a street seller for breakfast, I returned to the castle, and——

Alfons: Oh?

In a stroke of bad luck, I happened upon Roger and Miss Kate walking together.

Kate: Ah... w-welcome back.

Roger: Hey there, Al.

Leaving aside the mentally strong former doctor who, regardless whether he was aware he was being hated on, would initiate a conversation with a light tone and carefree smile,

Miss Kate very obviously looked awkward.

(I can’t even flatter your acting skills.)

She was the complete opposite of me, who had a lot of practice when it came to plastering on a smile.

Alfons: Well I’ll be, are you on your way to a most friendly outing, the two of you?

Kate: Ah, no, we’re...

Roger: What, curiosity got you piqued?

As if to make a point, Roger wrapped his arm around Kate’s shoulder snugly.

Kate: Roger!? What are you doing—

Roger: Alright then, let me fill you in. We’re gonna be spending the whole entire day holed up in a locked room, just the two of us. Let’s get along now, yeah?

(This man needs to get a hobby.)

(I hardly have any intention of hopping on that cheap provocation.)

Alfons: Oh my, is that so? It would appear you’ve found yourself a lovely playmate while I was not around. I’m happy for you, Miss Kate.

Kate: …

I gave a smile to convey I didn’t think anything of it, and Miss Kate, as though hurt, furrowed her brows.

(Aha, you poor soul, you.)

I figured she probably wasn’t clinging to Roger in hopes that he would heal her broken heart.

I knew very well that she was hardly the type to be able to do such things.

Her single-mindedness in facing me no matter how much I refused or hurt her was staunch to be sure.

(And that’s exactly what makes her different from me… I suppose.)

(Well, whether she’ll make it out safely from the basement after being alone with this man is a different story…)

(But it doesn’t have anything to do with me, so.)

The moment I tried to leave, Miss Kate opened her mouth, as though trying to pull me back.

Kate: Alfons..!

Alfons: ? Yes, what is it?

Kate: ...I still very much like you.

Alfons: ...Come again?

Roger: ... (O_O)

It was such a sudden confession of love, I stiffened out of instinct.

(………Has she gone bonkers?)

(You do know I’m the man who played your feelings of love, and to top it all off, told you it was all a ‘nuisance’ and left the bed, right?)

And yet she still insisted on pouring these dazzling words on me; what else could I think her as, if not crazy?

Kate: Even if this all amounts to a nuisance to you... this is the ‘truth’ for me, so.

Alfons: .........

(Ah, now I’ve done it. This should be the part where I laugh it all off.)

I needed to make her think that, no matter how earnestly she threw her feelings at me, they would never get through, so she could give up on me.

(So that these feelings of love she holds for me amounts to nothing but garbage…)

(I need to laugh at her, to deny her——)

My mind knew that, and yet for some reason, my lips couldn’t form a smile.

Kate: Okay, we’re going, Roger.

Miss Kate, seeming as though she wanted to run from my silence, ran down the staircase leading to the basement.

Roger: Pfft, haha... I feel like I haven’t seen you so dumbfounded in forever.

As Kate’s footsteps grew more distant, I heard an unpleasant laughter.

I hated how this man would not seem to pay any mind to the feelings of others like that.

Alfons: ...Oh, believe me, she is far from the first who’s rendered me so positively dumbfounded like this.

Roger: Hmm? So is it safe to say she’s no different than anyone else to you then?

R: Because if so, I may or may not end up stealing her away for real.

While slowly turning for the staircase, those egoistic lips showed a provoking smile.

Roger: After all, it’s not like you’d really care what happens to a toy you don’t need anymore, right?

Alfons: ………

Perhaps the reason I felt displeasure rise up from within me was because the one before me was a man filled with haughty arrogance.

Or was it because she was the one getting stolen?

(Whichever it is, I shouldn’t care for the answer.)

(Because, in any case, I didn’t have such a choice to step even further into her life to find the reason for this temporary displeasure.)

If that was the case, thinking on it was foolish. And yet——

Her lips, which were trembling as she declared how she ‘still liked me,’

the palms of her hands, which were gripped tightly together as though grasping onto courage,

and those eyes that looked so directly at me, as if to say to not misunderstand,

were all engraved into the back of my mind, refusing to let go.

The heavy footsteps going down the staircase grated on my ears, severely so.

For the feeling of a favorite toy being stolen away, it felt extremely bitter.

(Is this… jealousy? Me, of all people? But, how?)

The notion of getting something I said I didn’t need taken away, and then still feeling displeased over it and whatnot, was much like a child’s selfishness.

And besides——

(…The most I was able to do was imitate love, feeling nothing but emotional disconnect.)

Alfons: …I suppose the biggest mystery to one is themself.

Labeling the jealousy I felt that bubbled up from somewhere in me as ‘meaningless,’ I threw it behind me.

Thinking on it more would only make my helplessness more clear than it already was.

Hoping to idle the time away, I walked to my room, when all of a sudden, a certain question came to mind.

(Come to think of it, if they’re not doing anything shady, then what in the world are those two doing in the basement…?)

For a moment, I felt a sense of unease.

Miss Kate, who had said she ‘still liked me,’

was with Roger, the one who spouted off some nonsense about ‘changing fates’ and whatnot,

and they were in the basement, where a lot of documents concerning ‘Cursed ones’ were abundant, which would mean…

Alfons: …Now that just can’t be. She wouldn’t be so much a fool as to not know when to not give up, would she.

I denied it with my voice, but my chest got more and more filled with that uneasy feeling.

(What if, even after I pushed her away this far, it was already too late?)

(What if she poured even more of her feelings into me, continuing to spend more time with me——?)

Alfons: …Should that time ever come,

A: Perhaps I should simply up and disappear, just like that.

← back next →

masterlist🪞 ╱ ko-fi ☕️ ╱ comms 🤍

NOTE: this is the last his side story i will translate, and the last chapter i will translate concerning alfons main story. thank you for accompanying me so long in this translation, to those who have read it all! it really means a lot to me! i enjoy translating for al lots, and i hope that came through as you were reading overall 🥹🙏

to those who will be reading his route in en, i hope you enjoy what this roller coaster of a route has to offer! theres a lot of complexities woven into his route thats sure give you something to think about. i translated this last chapter to close off the project, putting in my best wishes for you 🫶

i have heard from those who have read what i did for elbies main story that reading my tl has helped enhance their reading experience in en, and i hope this can do the same for you! or if you cant afford the premium stories or dont want to grind for these his side stories, i hope i could provide a way for you to access them more freely. again, thank you to everyone who has supported me, read my tls, interacted with these posts, etc.

its largely thanks to you that i can close this project and look back on it with positive memories! 🪞🤍✨

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ tags🏷️ ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ @drachonia

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fuck-customers · 46 minutes ago

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This whole situation just does not sit right with me.

I witnessed the situation and this is what I saw from my perspective:

The register line was a bit long and a young black girl (I think this is relevant in relation to the way the other woman reacted, as I will explain in a sec) seemingly decided that whatever she was waiting in line for was not worth the wait and since she was 2nd in line, just moved towards the front to the register to reach the exit doors, saying "excuse me/excuse me, can I get through?" multiple times to the older white woman in front of her, who did not move. (This I did hear and even spoke up to ask the older white woman to let her through)

The older white woman (I'd estimate she was in her 50s or 60s) either didn't hear her or purposely refused to move over, so the younger girl had to awkwardly squeeze by her doing that side-shuffle thing.

Then the older woman starts screaming at the young woman (who was probably 18-25) and calling her a thief and claiming that the girl's hand was in her purse and that she was trying to steal.

Just throwing out my personal biased opinion, I think the older woman was completely full of shit and was either racist, a Karen wanting attention, or both. Either way, I had to do my customer service shtick and humor her.

So I asked the older lady to please take a moment to look through her bag and confirm whether or not anything was missing, while I called for my manager.

These next 2 things are what really did not sit well with me. The manager comes up, I briefly explain the situation, she also asks the woman to confirm her belongings, during which the woman herself confirmed that there was nothing missing from her bag, but still insisted on pressing charges. (How? We don't know who the girl was and I don't think she could be accurately identified from the security cameras. Also, somehow in the confusion someone said she was an employee at my store? She was not.) The woman confirming that nothing was missing, but still wanted to press charges seemed sus to me, but I could write that off as a Karen Karenning.

The part that really left a bad taste and made me lose a lot of respect for her, was after the whole situation was settled and my manager got the Karen's contact info and assured her that she'd get the security footage and yadda, yadda, yadda, and the woman left the store. My manager asked me to recall the situation as I saw it, which I retold the story and emphasized that I did not actually witness the girl stealing or even having her hand in the woman's purse. My manager starts parroting the woman's story to me as if she witnessed it, saying "no her hand was IN HER BAG" How do you know? You were on the far opposite side of the store. You didn't witness shit. We're alone now, you don't have to keep playing customer service, so that means you actually believe a crime that you did not witness?

I didn't have a lot of respect for my manager before this, but this just squashed the last drop of respect I did have for her.

My personal belief is that the younger black girl simply wanted to get out of line and unfortunately chose to squeeze by the wrong white woman and I think the white woman saw an opportunity to play the victim and was possibly a racist herself and get attention like a Karen and seized the opportunity. I do not believe anything was stolen (as the white woman herself confirmed) and the older white woman simply wanted to make a scene to get attention because she was bored or hard up for attention.

Posted by admin Rodney

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acute-crashout-jeyuso · 15 hours ago

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Possession: a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley x Jimmy Uso fanfic.

Chapter 8: Elevated

Thursday, December 5th, 2024 8:39 PM

Jey pulled up to the curb outside the airport, the headlights cutting through the cool night air. Rhea glanced at him as he put the car in park, his expression softer than it had been in days. As much as their week had been tense, this moment felt like a small reprieve.

Jey turned to her, a hint of guilt in his voice. “Baby, I feel way better now that you’re gonna be rooming with Joe instead of Jon,” he said, his hand resting on hers. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass all week. When you come back, I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

Rhea smiled, her heart tugging in different directions. “I love you, babe,” she replied, leaning in to kiss him.

The kiss lingered, bittersweet, and when they pulled apart, Rhea grabbed her luggage from the backseat. Jey stepped out of the car to help her, his arm brushing against hers as he hoisted the bag onto the curb.

“Text me when you land,” he said, his voice low but warm.

“I will,” she promised, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

She turned toward the terminal and spotted Joe waiting a few yards ahead, his hood pulled up and sunglasses shielding his face. Always incognito, he gave her a subtle nod as she approached.

Rhea waved back briefly before glancing over her shoulder at Jey one last time. He stood by the car, watching her with a faint smile, and she felt a pang of guilt twist in her chest.

With a final wave, she joined Joe, her luggage rolling beside her.

“Ready?” Joe asked quietly, his deep voice steady.

“Yeah,” she said, stealing one more glance behind her before they stepped inside the bustling terminal.

The check-in process was uneventful, Joe expertly navigating the crowds with his usual calm demeanor. Rhea stayed close, her thoughts buzzing as she clutched her boarding pass.

As they waited for security clearance, Joe leaned in slightly. “You good?”

Rhea nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Joe studied her for a moment but didn’t press further. He simply gestured for her to follow as they moved through the checkpoint.

The weight of the week—and the secrets she carried—settled on her shoulders as she walked beside him, the noise of the airport dull in her ears. She didn’t know what the weekend would bring, but she was determined to keep everything in check.

For now, she just needed to focus on the task at hand: getting through the next few days without letting the cracks in her life show.

—

After what felt like an eternity, the plane touched down in Minneapolis, its tires skimming the runway as the city lights flickered in the distance. Joe and Rhea moved swiftly through the terminal, their bags in tow and their demeanor guarded. They kept their distance from prying eyes, slipping into the waiting black SUV at the curb like seasoned professionals.

The ride to the Four Seasons was mostly quiet. Joe leaned back in his seat, scrolling on his phone, while Rhea watched the city blur by through the tinted windows. Her mind was restless, a mix of excitement and guilt swirling within her.

When they arrived, the doorman greeted them warmly, but Joe waved him off with a subtle nod, leading Rhea inside. The lobby was grand, its high ceilings and chandeliers oozing luxury. Joe checked them in, handling everything with ease while Rhea stood by, feeling slightly out of place.

They took the elevator up to their floor, the quiet hum of the ride filling the space between them. When the doors opened, Joe gestured for Rhea to step out first. He unlocked the suite and pushed the door open, revealing a space that was nothing short of extravagant.

Rhea’s jaw dropped. The suite was massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The decor was modern and elegant, a stark contrast to the no-frills motels she and Jey often stayed in.

Joe chuckled as he set his bag down. “You’ve never seen a suite before?”

Rhea shook her head, still in awe. “Jey always wanted to save money, so we’d get the cheapest rooms,” she said, running her fingers along the plush couch.

Joe smirked. “That does sound like Jey. Well, you’re not slumming it this weekend. You can take the room on the right; I’ll take the one on the left.”

Rhea nodded and grabbed her bag, heading to her designated room. She opened the door and found herself in another gorgeous space, complete with a king-sized bed, a sitting area, and an en suite bathroom that looked like it belonged in a five-star spa.

Closing the door behind her, she set her suitcase on the bed and began unpacking. Her fingers brushed against her ring gear for Monday, and she pulled it out, laying it across the bedspread. The black leather, studded one-piece was edgy and bold, paired with fishnet stockings and thigh chokers to accentuate her curves. It was a perfect reflection of her “Mami” persona, confident and unapologetically dominant.

Next, she pulled out her outfit for the following day. It was one of WWE’s newest shirts, featuring a graphic of Jimmy with the words Samoan Heat emblazoned across it. She paired it with black jeans and her signature black boots.

Rhea stared at the shirt for a moment, her stomach tightening. She hadn’t let Jey see it when the company mailed it to her. She knew anything involving Jimmy was a trigger for him, and she didn’t want to deal with the inevitable tension. Still, the shirt was striking, and part of her looked forward to wearing it.

With her clothes neatly hung and folded, Rhea sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the city lights through the window. Her mind drifted back to Jey, to Jimmy, to the tangled web she was caught in. She exhaled deeply, trying to push the thoughts aside.

—

Jimmy checked into his room at the Four Seasons, sliding the key card into the door and stepping into the spacious suite. He set his duffel bag down near the closet and took in the luxurious space—the crisp white sheets on the king-size bed, the elegant furnishings, and the soft glow from the bedside lamp. He sighed, shaking off the fatigue from the flight, and collapsed onto the bed.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he immediately texted Rhea: “Wya?”

He barely had to wait a moment before her reply came through: “Already here. I’ll wait till Joe falls asleep, and then I’ll sneak out.”

Jimmy smirked, the thrill of their secret rendezvous igniting a spark of excitement in his chest. He typed back quickly: “Can’t wait to kiss you again.”

He set the phone down for a moment, staring up at the ceiling as anticipation curled in his stomach. The thought of her slipping out of her room and into his, unseen by anyone else, was as intoxicating as the woman herself.

His phone buzzed again. Another message from Rhea popped up: “You’re impossible 🙃 but okay.”

He tossed the phone onto the bed beside him, running a hand over his face. This was reckless. Dangerous. But, damn it, he didn’t care. Rhea was worth the risk.

He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 11:45 PM. Still a couple of hours to kill before their planned meeting. He grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV, aimlessly flipping through channels to distract himself, though his mind was fixed on what the night would bring.

—

The clock struck 3 a.m., and Rhea’s phone buzzed, its soft vibrations pulling her from sleep. Groggily, she reached over to grab it and saw Jimmy’s name flashing on the screen. She swiped to answer.

“You fell asleep?” Jimmy’s voice was low but teasing.

Rhea yawned softly. “Yeah, for a bit. Let me see if he’s asleep.”

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood, moving quietly to avoid waking Joe. Padding across the suite, she approached Joe’s door and pressed her ear against it. The steady rhythm of his snores confirmed that he was out cold.

Grabbing the spare key card from the counter, Rhea whispered into the phone, “Tell me what room.”

“520,” Jimmy replied without hesitation.

“I’ll be on my way,” Rhea said, her voice tinged with both nerves and excitement.

She hung up the call and quickly threw on a hoodie and joggers over her bra and panties, not bothering to put on socks or shoes. Quietly, she opened the suite door and slipped out into the hallway, closing it just as softly behind her. Taking a deep breath, she opted for the stairs, not wanting to risk running into anyone in the elevator at such a late hour.

The cool air of the stairwell brushed against her exposed skin as she descended the steps to the fifth floor. Her heart thudded in her chest, both from the rush of sneaking out and the thrill of seeing Jimmy again.

When she reached room 520, she knocked softly. Almost immediately, the door opened, and Jimmy stood there, his face lighting up the second he saw her. Without a word, he grabbed her hand, pulled her inside, and shut the door behind her.

He lifted her off the ground effortlessly, wrapping his strong arms around her waist. “I missed you so much,” he murmured before pressing his lips to hers in a hungry, passionate kiss.

Rhea melted into the kiss for a moment, her hands resting on his shoulders, before pulling back slightly. “I can’t stay too long,” she said, her voice breathless.

Jimmy set her down gently but kept his arms locked around her. “Don’t worry, I just wanted to kiss you and feel you in my arms, Rhea.”

She looked up at him, her expression conflicted. “What are you doing to me?” she asked softly, almost more to herself than to him.

Jimmy’s dark eyes locked onto hers, his gaze intense but tender. “I’m showing you how you should have been with me in the first place,” he said, his voice steady and filled with conviction.

Rhea’s breath hitched, her mind swirling with emotions she couldn’t even begin to untangle. But before she could say anything else, Jimmy kissed her again, and for a fleeting moment, all of her doubts and fears melted away in the heat of his embrace. He used his hands to lift her up and she wrapped her legs around him tight. Jimmy walked the two to the bed, not breaking the kiss. He softly set Rhea in the bed and he pulled the comforter over the two, Jimmy straddling Rhea as she used her tongue to taste Jimmy more, both their tongues battling.

—

9:30 AM

Rhea woke to the blaring sound of her alarm, the shrill noise cutting through the deep, almost dreamless sleep she’d fallen into. She groaned, rubbing her eyes as she tried to shake off the lingering exhaustion. Glancing at her phone, she realized there was no time to waste.

Grabbing her neatly folded clothes, she headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. The warm water cascaded over her, and for a moment, she let it clear her thoughts, washing away the tension from last night’s secrecy. Once out, she dressed, slipped on her boots, and began packing her gym bag for the night’s show.

A knock at the door broke her concentration.

“You ready?” Joe’s voice called through the door.

“Coming!” Rhea replied, zipping up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

They headed out shortly after, their ride taking them straight to the arena. The atmosphere was already buzzing with anticipation, crew members bustling around in preparation for the live show.

Inside, Hunter was waiting for them in one of the production meeting rooms.

“Alright, let’s go over the details one last time,” Hunter began, addressing Joe and Rhea. He laid out the plan for Joe’s grand return, emphasizing the timing and the dramatic cues. As Hunter spoke, Rhea stayed focused, mentally preparing herself for the part she had to play.

Toward the end of the briefing, Hunter looked at Joe. “Where’s Jimmy?” he asked, glancing at the clock on the wall.

Joe shrugged casually. “He texted me saying he slept late, but he’s on his way.”

Hunter nodded, satisfied. “Perfect. Rhea, it’s time to get into position. You know the drill.”

Rhea nodded, already anticipating the long, uncomfortable hours ahead. She grabbed her bag and headed toward the arena floor with one of the crew members.

As she crouched low and crawled underneath the ring through the trapdoor, she took a deep breath, bracing herself for the cramped space and the inevitable wait. The space was dark and quiet, save for the distant echoes of people moving around above her.

She adjusted herself, laying down on the padding beneath her. This wasn’t her first time doing this, but it didn’t make the hours of waiting any easier. Her mind wandered, thinking about her performance tonight, her secret rendezvous with Jimmy the night before, and the tension with Jey.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she focused on her breathing, counting down the hours until her cue.

As Rhea adjusted herself on the padded floor, she heard the sound of movement nearby. Turning her head toward the trapdoor, she saw Todd, one of the assembly crew, crawling into the cramped space with a small ice chest in hand.

“Hey, Rhea,” Todd greeted casually, setting the ice chest down. “Figured you might need something to make this wait a little less miserable. You want a soda?”

Rhea, grateful for the gesture, smiled. “Yeah, if you’ve got a Dr. Pepper, I’ll take one.”

Todd dug into the cooler and handed her a can. “What about snacks? You good?”

Rhea shrugged. “If you’ve got a Lunchable, I wouldn’t say no.”

Todd chuckled. “Lunchable? C’mon, Rhea, we’re professionals here. I raided catering for the good stuff.” He pulled out a few containers of food and held them out for her to choose.

“Okay, you’ve outdone yourself,” Rhea said with a laugh, grabbing a small plate of chicken sliders and some fruit. She settled back on the pad and began eating, feeling a little less irritable about the hours ahead.

Rhea looked up from her spot on the pad as Todd set up a small monitor beneath the ring. Just as she was about to thank him, the trapdoor opened again, and Jimmy crawled in, his signature smirk plastered across his face.

“Look who decided to show up,” Rhea said, arching a brow. She fought to keep her tone casual, though the sight of him made her pulse quicken.

Jimmy shrugged, settling himself comfortably on the pad beside her. “What can I say? I slept late. Had a fun night.”

Rhea felt heat creeping up her neck and quickly looked away, pretending to focus on her Dr. Pepper. She wasn’t about to let Jimmy’s words—and their implications—rattle her in front of Todd.

“Well, since you missed the briefing,” she said, her voice steady, “Hunter went over everything. We’re set to make our entrance after Solo, Jacob, Tama and Tonga corner Joe.”

Jimmy nodded, his smirk softening into something more serious. “Got it. Should be good. You nervous?”

Rhea gave him a look. “I’m always ready. You?”

Jimmy leaned back against the side of the ring, folding his arms behind his head. “I was born ready.”

Todd, who had been quietly adjusting the monitor, chuckled. “You two should save the banter for the cameras. Here, you’ll want to keep an eye on this,” he said, gesturing to the screen as he turned it on.

The monitor flickered to life, displaying a blue screen that was currently airing. Todd handed Rhea the remote and said, “Let me know if you need anything else. I’ll be in the truck if you do.”

Rhea nodded, giving him a quick smile. “Thanks, Todd.”

As Todd crawled out of the space, Jimmy shifted closer to Rhea. “You okay?”

Rhea glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “Just focused,” she said simply, though the tension between them was palpable.

Jimmy looked at Rhea, a sly grin spreading across his face as he said, "Give me a kiss."

Rhea giggled softly, her cheeks warming under his gaze. She leaned in and gave him a small, quick kiss, trying to keep things light.

But Jimmy wasn't satisfied. "After last night," he said, his voice dropping into a husky whisper, "I want more."

Rhea turned her head quickly to check the trapdoor, making sure no one was coming. When she saw it was still clear, she let out a soft sigh and leaned in again. This time, the kiss was deeper, more lingering, as Jimmy cupped the back of her neck, pulling her closer.

The two made out for a few moments, the sounds of the crew members assembling the fixtures and finishing the top ring above them muffled by the thick padding of the bottom of the ring. Jimmy's fingers trailed down her arm, sending a shiver through her.

Finally, Rhea pulled back, her breathing slightly uneven. She pressed a hand to his chest, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "You're so crazy," she said, shaking her head.

Jimmy chuckled, his eyes glinting mischievously.

"Crazy for you."

Rhea rolled her eyes playfully, trying to ignore the rapid thudding of her heart. She glanced back at the monitor Todd had set up, pretending to focus on something else. “We need to be careful," she muttered, her voice softer now.

Jimmy leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Careful doesn't really suit us, does it?"

Rhea fought back a smile, knowing he wasn't wrong. But she also knew how much was at stake if Jey knew she had went back to Jimmy.

Taking a steadying breath, she adjusted her position and Jimmy pulled her closer to him.

"Jimmy for real, we have to be on the lookout."

Jimmy let out a low laugh, leaning back but keeping his gaze locked on her. “Okay mami..."

Rhea bit her lip to hide her smile, shifting her attention fully to her phone. But the heat lingering between them was undeniable, making the small space under the ring feel even more charged.

—

The arena lights dim, and Solo Sikoa’s music hits, drawing a mix of jeers and gasps from the audience. He strides down the ramp, flanked by Jacob Fatu, Tama Tonga, and Tonga Loa, their intimidating presence radiating authority. Solo wears the coveted Ula Fala, his face expressionless but his eyes brimming with confidence.

Corey Graves: “Here he comes, Wade—Solo Sikoa, the self-proclaimed ‘real’ Tribal Chief. And look at this Bloodline! Jacob Fatu, Tama Tonga, Tonga Loa—this is an imposing sight.”

Wade Barrett: “Corey, this group may be new to the WWE audience, but these men have wrestling royalty coursing through their veins. Solo Sikoa is making a bold statement tonight by aligning himself with these Samoan warriors. Forget about Roman Reigns—Solo wants us all to acknowledge him.”

Corey Graves: “Minneapolis is letting him know exactly what they think of his so-called claim to the throne, but Solo doesn’t seem to care one bit!”

The group enters the ring, each man taking a corner and raising their hands, commanding the crowd’s attention. Solo steps to the center, grabbing a microphone. The boos grow louder, but Solo smirks, unfazed.

Solo Sikoa: “Minneapolis… acknowledge me.”

The boos reach a fever pitch, and Solo waits patiently for the noise to subside, his stoic demeanor adding to the tension in the arena.

Solo Sikoa: “Roman Reigns? A Tribal Chief? Nah. You can’t be a Tribal Chief if you don’t even have a tribe. The truth is standing right here, in front of you. Jacob Fatu, Tama Tonga, Tonga Loa—this is my tribe. And you will acknowledge me as the real Tribal Chief.”

The crowd erupts with boos, some chanting Roman’s name, others screaming insults at Solo.

Wade Barrett: “Solo is cutting deep tonight, Corey. He’s not just challenging Roman Reigns—he’s dismantling the very foundation of Roman’s legacy.”

Corey Graves: “This is dangerous territory, Wade. Roman Reigns isn’t just the face of the WWE; he’s the Tribal Chief of an entire legacy. Solo might regret these words.”

Solo Sikoa: “Minneapolis… you will acknowledge me, because Roman Reigns will never step foot in the WWE ring again! He’s too afraid to face me! He knows his time is up!”

Suddenly, the familiar opening notes of Roman Reigns’ theme music hit, and the arena explodes in cheers. The crowd jumps to their feet, screaming Roman’s name as he emerges on the stage, his signature calm and menacing presence.

Corey Graves: “He’s HERE! ROMAN REIGNS IS BACK AFTER WRESTLEMANIA! THE TRIBAL CHIEF IS BACK!”

Wade Barrett: “Look at the intensity on Roman’s face. He’s not here for words—he’s here for war!”

Roman cracks his knuckles as he slowly makes his way to the ring, his eyes locked on Solo and his crew. He steps onto the apron and into the ring, unflinching despite the numbers against him.

Roman charges Solo, and the brawl begins. Eventually, Solo, Jacob, Tama, and Tonga gang up on Roman, hammering him into a corner. The crowd is at a fever pitch as the beatdown continues.

Corey Graves: “Roman Reigns is fighting with everything he has, but the numbers game is just too much!”

Suddenly, the lights in the arena shut off, plunging everything into darkness. The crowd roars, phones lighting up the arena like stars.

Wade Barrett: “What the hell is going on?! Who’s behind this?!”

In the cover of darkness, Jimmy and Rhea emerge from underneath the ring, both dressed in all black, ski masks covering their faces. They each grab steel chairs and take their positions.

The lights come back on, and chaos ensues. Rhea swings her chair, taking out Tama Tonga with a brutal shot to the back. Jimmy smashes his chair into Tonga Loa, sending him sprawling out of the ring. Jacob Fatu turns to attack, but Jimmy and Rhea double-team him, taking him down with synchronized chair shots.

Roman capitalizes on the moment, launching himself at Solo and pummeling him into the mat. The crowd is deafening, a mix of cheers and gasps.

Corey Graves: “This is absolute carnage! Roman Reigns is cleaning house, and whoever these masked assailants are—they’re helping him dismantle Solo’s tribe!”

With Solo’s crew neutralized, Jimmy and Rhea drop their chairs and kneel in the center of the ring, raising their fingers in the air in the signature “One” gesture. Roman stands over Solo, looking down at him before turning his gaze to the masked figures.

Roman approaches them, yanking off Jimmy’s mask first. The crowd erupts into cheers as Jimmy’s face is revealed. Roman then removes Rhea’s mask, and the cheers grow even louder, mixed with a few shocked gasps.

Wade Barrett: “It’s the Mixed Gender Tag Team Champs Jimmy Uso and Rhea Ripley?! What on earth is going on here?!”

Roman smirks, looking at the carnage around him. He extends his arms, pulling Jimmy and Rhea to their feet. The three of them stand tall in the ring, raising their ones high as Solo and his crew retreat up the ramp, licking their wounds.

Corey Graves: “This war for the Bloodline is far from over, but tonight, Roman Reigns has sent a message: he’s still the Tribal Chief, and he’s got soldiers willing to go to war with him!”

Wade Barrett: “Solo wanted to call himself the real Tribal Chief, but after tonight, he’s going to think twice about stepping to Roman Reigns again. This is just the beginning, Corey!”

The screen fades to black as Roman, Jimmy, and Rhea stand united in the ring, the crowd chanting Roman’s name.

—

Cathy Kelley: “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m here with Roman Reigns, Jimmy Uso, and Rhea Ripley. Roman, tonight marks a monumental moment in WWE history as you make your return and team up with the Mixed Gender Tag Team Champions, Jimmy Uso and Rhea Ripley. What does this mean for the Bloodline moving forward?”

Roman stands silent, his expression cold and intimidating. Before he can respond, Rhea steps forward with a smirk, cutting Cathy off.

Rhea Ripley: “You can call us… ‘The Elevated Bloodline,’ Cathy. A name fitting for a faction that’s untouchable and unstoppable.”

The crowd in the arena can be heard buzzing in the background, a mix of boos and intrigue. Cathy, keeping her composure, presses forward with her next question.

Cathy Kelley: “Rhea, that’s a bold statement. But I have to ask—what about your boyfriend, Jey Uso? Is he part of this new trio, or has he been excluded?”

The tension rises immediately. Rhea raises an eyebrow, her smirk faltering for a split second, but before she can say anything, Jimmy steps forward, his cocky demeanor radiating.

Jimmy Uso: “Jey? You wanna talk about Jey, Cathy? Alright, let’s talk about him.” He chuckles mockingly, glancing at Rhea before continuing. “As for the ‘boyfriend’ part, let’s just say Rhea here chose the better brother. That’s why she’s standing here with us—where she belongs.”

Jimmy casually puts an arm around Rhea, who doesn’t flinch. Instead, she leans into the mic with an icy smile.

Rhea Ripley: “Let this be a lesson to Solo, Jey, and the rest of those… insignificant pigs whose names I don’t even bother to learn.” She looks directly into the camera, her voice dripping with venom. “Rhea Ripley, Jimmy Uso, and Roman Reigns are the only Bloodline you will ever acknowledge.”

The crowd erupts in a mix of cheers and gasps and boos as the weight of her words sinks in. Cathy is left speechless as Roman, Jimmy, and Rhea turn and walk away, their presence commanding.

Corey Graves (on commentary): “Did you hear that, Wade? Rhea Ripley just declared war on the rest of the Bloodline—and Jimmy Uso didn’t even hesitate to throw his own brother under the bus!”

Wade Barrett: “This is calculated, Corey. Roman, Jimmy, and Rhea aren’t just forming a faction; they’re establishing dominance. And if this is the ‘Elevated Bloodline,’ I don’t think anyone—not Jey, not Solo, not even the WWE locker room—can stop them.”

The camera lingers on Cathy, still stunned by the sharp words and the powerful declaration as the screen fades to the next segment.

— Flashback 3:20AM

Jimmy pinned Rhea down, their lips locked, and tongues intertwined. His rough hands ran through her long black hair, pulling her head back as he took control. He loved the way her body molded against his as he laid on top of her, their legs tangled together. His strong, tattooed arms snaked around her waist, his chest muscles flexing as he lifted her up off the bed. She wrapped her legs around his torso, letting him grind his hard-on into her.

Rhea pulled back, breathing heavily as she stared up at Jimmy. "I'm still not ready," she panted, biting her lip.

Jimmy's face fell, but he quickly recovered, plastering a smile on his face. "Don’t worry about angering me.. I could never ever be mad at you," he said, leaning down to kiss her again. Rhea melted against him, letting his warmth wash over her as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I do want to please you in another way," Rhea whispered, pulling back from the kiss. Jimmy raised his eyebrows, his curiosity piqued. Rhea grinned, using her legs to flip the two, before climbing on top of him. She trailed her fingers down his chest, tracing the lines of tattoos. He watched her in fascination as she reached down and pulled his dick out from his sleeping pants.

Rhea wasted no time, taking him into her mouth and sucking hard. Jimmy threw his head back, letting out a low groan as she worked her magic. Her tongue danced around his tip, teasing him as she took him deeper into her mouth. She sucked and licked, her hand pumping the base of his dick as she worked him up. Jimmy's hips bucked off the bed as he thrust into her mouth, letting out a string of curse words as he felt himself nearing the edge.

The blowjob lasted for such a long time and despite her jaw locking up several times, Rhea kept going, despite the gagging sensation she was feeling. This was nothing like the blowjobs she would give Jey, this felt… right. Rhea felt her saliva drip onto Jimmy’s dick as he continued to thrust into her mouth. The way he tasted made her so wet but she knew.. she knew she had to repay him the favor for that mind blowing orgasm she received just last week.

It was like Rhea just knew how to drive him wild. She moaned around his dick, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. She gripped his thighs, pulling him deeper into her mouth as she hollowed out her cheeks, hoping to finally get him to cum in her mouth, his cum that she was so wanting to have go deep down her throat, the saltiness she was wanting to taste. Jimmy's breath hitched as he felt himself on the brink, his balls tightening as he exploded into Rhea's mouth. She swallowed every drop, licking him clean..

“My beautiful possession..”

#jey uso #fanfic #rhea ripley #wwe #fanfiction #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #yeet #rhea and jey #the judgement day #rhea ripley and jey uso #rhea x jey #rhea x jimmy #jimmy x rhea #rhea and jimmy #the judgment day wwe #wwe the usos

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moonperil6 · 22 hours ago

Text

Blessed by a Trickster

Chapter Four: The Scary Part? He's Tiny

Prev/Next

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 763

You stood at the helm of the ship, next to Eurylochus, who kept glancing at you when he thought you weren’t looking. He’s rather awful at judging that.

“Is something wrong?” You asked, turning to him.

“What?”

“You keep looking at me weirdly.”

Eurylochus hummed, debating whether or not to tell the truth. He settled with telling half of it.

He shrugged. “Nothing’s wrong.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I don’t believe you in the slightest.”

Eurylochus was saved from having to try and stutter out an excuse by Polites, who sprinted up to you, barely acknowledging the second in command’s presence with a small nod as he turned to you.

Polites’s glasses kept slipping off his nose and he continued to adjust them as he spoke. “There’s an island- Ody thinks it might be- what the lotus eaters were- talking… about.”

You blinked. “Oh,” was all you said.

Polites raised his eyebrows. “Oh?” He demanded. “That’s the first thing you think to say?” You shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah.”

Eurylochus snorted in amusement and Polites narrowed his eyes mockingly at his friend.

Then the world seemed to move in slow motion. Eurylochus was speaking to you, but you couldn’t hear a word he was saying. You yourself seemed to move fine; you could shake out the stiffness in your arms and legs in normal time. You snapped your fingers in front of Polites’s face, but you didn’t get a reaction.

You heard laughter from above your head, and you looked upward.

“Reveal yourself,” you ordered.

“Hm… I don’t think I will.”

You smirked. “I meant, please reveal yourself, Lord Hermes.”

A handsome yet short man appeared before you. He had a mop of curly light brown hair and a black mask covering his eyes. The snakes that were curled around his staff flicked their tongues at you as the tiny wings on his sandals flapped. “How did you-” He looked down at himself in surprise and yelped.

He gave you a reproachful look. “Please don’t do that again, little lady,” he said, shaking his caduceus at you.

You crossed your arms. “Hello, Lord Hermes. Please stop stalking me.”

Hermes giggled and glided around you, studying your stance and scars. “Now, now,” he chided. “You shouldn’t talk to a potential patron like that!”

You raised your eyebrows. “Patron?” You asked, unable to keep the skepticism from your voice.

“Oh, yes.” Hermes came to a stop in front of you, still hovering a few feet above the ground. “I’ve been watching you for quite some time, Y/N of Ithaca.”

“Yeah, I sort of got that part. Your voice in my head and all.”

Hermes laughed again. “Ooooh. Quick-thinker, too, I see.” The tips of his sandals skimmed the deck of the ship as he looked at you thoughtfully. “I think of myself as lucky to have reached you first, before any other god could offer to be your mentor.”

You blinked.

“Come on,” the god urged. “I’m sure Odysseus has told you of his own mentor, Athena? Shame she abandoned him.”

“I-I…” You couldn’t finish, your mind skimming through the possibilities of how this could end. “What could you offer? Why should I not wait for a different god or goddess like Ares or Artemis?”

“So glad you asked!” Hermes beamed. “I am the god of thieves. I will teach you how to steal more than objects in the heat of the moment. I will teach you how to detangle hidden meanings and important information from the most confusing of sentences.”

You tilted your head slightly. That skill sounded useful.

“I am the god of travelers,” he continued. “I can aid you in your journey home.”

“I am the god of speed. I can train you so hard, you’ll have more stamina than any man. You’ll be as fast as Achilles was.”

“I am the god of language, and I can teach you the skill of negotiating-”

“Let me sleep on it,” you interrupted.

“Oh.” Hermes gave you a sad smile. “You won’t be sleeping tonight.”

“What do you-”

Suddenly everything sped up, leaving you stumbling. Eurylochus grabbed your shoulders to steady you. You could feel Polites’s concerned gaze on your back as you grabbed Eurylochus’s forearms in an attempt to make the world stop spinning.

“Whoa,” Eurylochus said as you swayed slightly. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You opened your mouth to respond, only to slump forward.

“I forgot about how fragile mortals are,” Hermes giggled inside your head. “You might be having that sleep earlier than either of us expected.”

Then you blacked out.

#eurylochus #epic musical #epic the musical #cyclops saga #epic the musical x reader #polites #polites x reader #eurylocus x reader #hermes x reader #hermes #blessed by a trickster

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crossfandomskylines · 1 day ago

Text

In the Space Between: Chapter 7

Other Chapters:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I

Chapter 6

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: Glen is getting ready to head to Austin for some time with his family, but wants to spend one last evening with Gabby. They settle in at his place, ordering takeout, and cuddling up on the couch. Then he invites Gabby to spend the night, enjoying one last evening together.

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Mentions of Alcohol, SMUT (Nudity, Missionary Position it's their first time...it may get more kinky later, I don't know yet. But there's nothing wrong with a little vanilla.)

A/N: So after the last chapter I've been writing this one basically non-stop. Normally I hit bumps along the way which is why it's usually 5-7 days between chapters. But I wrote this one in like two and didn't want to wait to post, so I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know your thoughts with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs!

Tag List: @djs8891 @queenslandlover-93 @teacupsandtopgun @loveatfirsttornado

The days following their first breakfast together settled into a comfortable rhythm, as though Glen and Gabby had been a part of each other’s lives for much longer than a few weeks. They fell into an easy balance of spending time together while keeping up with their individual responsibilities. Some nights were spent at Gabby’s cozy apartment, the two of them cooking simple meals side by side, the radio playing softly in the background as they laughed about Glen’s inability to chop onions without tearing up. Other nights were at Glen’s place, where they sprawled on his couch, eating takeout straight from the containers and watching movies they only half-paid attention to, too absorbed in their conversation to care about the plot.

When they weren’t together, they stayed in touch. Gabby found herself smiling at the occasional texts Glen sent throughout the day—sometimes a photo of his dog napping in a patch of sunlight, other times a joke or comment about the podcast recording he’d just finished. In return, she sent him snapshots of her coffee-fueled study sessions, complete with exaggerated captions about the “thrilling life of a student.” It wasn’t overbearing or constant, just enough to remind them both that the other was thinking of them.

Despite the ease of their time together, neither pushed to define what was happening between them. They hadn’t taken things public—Glen’s fame adding a layer of complexity neither of them was eager to rush into—but there was an unspoken understanding that, for now, they were simply enjoying the moments they had. Each interaction felt natural, like the slow unfolding of something neither of them had expected but both were beginning to treasure.

By the end of Glen’s first week off, the lines between his world and Gabby’s had started to blur in small, significant ways. It wasn’t just that his spare toothbrush had found a spot in her bathroom or that his favorite blanket had been claimed as hers during their movie nights. It was the way they talked, the way they moved around each other, the way they found themselves looking forward to the next time without ever having to say it.

The hum of Gabby’s car engine filled the silence as she pulled into her apartment parking lot, her mind still replaying the events of her busy day. She was already planning on collapsing onto the couch with a bowl of cereal when her phone buzzed on the passenger seat. Picking it up, she smiled as Glen’s name lit up the screen.

Glen: Hey, you free tonight?

The message was simple, but she could practically hear his voice in her head, that mix of charm and warmth that made her stomach flip every time. She bit her lip, typing out a quick reply.

Gabby: I think I can squeeze you into my schedule 😉

His response was almost instant.

Glen: Good, because I was hoping to steal you for the evening. Come over?

She laughed softly, the exhaustion from her day momentarily forgotten.

Gabby: What’s the occasion?

A few dots appeared on the screen as he typed.

Glen: You. Me. One last quiet night before I head to Austin. No agenda, just us.

Gabby’s heart fluttered at the sincerity in his words. It was rare for someone to make her feel this... wanted. Not in a grand, sweeping way, but in the quiet, meaningful moments that reminded her how much she liked having him in her life.

Gabby: I’m on my way.

Sliding her phone back into her bag, she took a deep breath and shifted the car back into drive. A quiet night with Glen sounded like exactly what she needed.

Gabby pulled up to Glen’s house, the low glow of the porch light illuminating the familiar front door. Her heart skipped a beat as she grabbed her bag from the passenger seat and made her way up the steps. Before she could even knock, the door swung open, and Brisket came barreling toward her, tail wagging furiously.

“Hey, buddy!” Gabby crouched down, laughing as the dog nudged his head against her hands, soaking up all the attention she was more than happy to give. “Were you waiting for me, huh? Such a good boy!”

Glen leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a teasing smirk on his face. “Nice to see you too, babe,” he drawled, feigning offense.

Gabby glanced up at him, still scratching behind Brisket’s ears, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there.” She stood up, brushing her hands off on her jeans as she stepped closer to him.

Glen chuckled, shaking his head. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

Before he could say anything else, Gabby slipped her arms around his waist, tilting her head up to look at him. “Hi.”

His teasing expression softened as he leaned down, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her closer. “Hi,” he murmured back, his voice warm and low.

He dipped his head, their lips meeting in a slow, unhurried kiss, the kind that made the world outside his front door disappear. Brisket let out a little huff, circling at their feet as if to remind them he was still there. Gabby pulled back slightly, smiling against Glen’s lips.

“Looks like someone’s jealous,” she whispered.

Glen glanced down at the dog, who was now pawing at Gabby’s leg, clearly not done being the center of attention.

“Can you blame him?” Glen asked, his lips quirking into a grin.

Gabby laughed, giving Brisket one last pat before Glen stepped aside to let her in.

“Come on,” he said, resting a hand lightly on her back as they walked into the house. “I’ve got wine chilling and takeout on the way. Thought we could keep it low-key tonight.”

“Sounds perfect,” Gabby replied, feeling her shoulders relax as she slipped off her shoes.

The doorbell rang, cutting through their conversation. Brisket barked once, trotting toward the door, his tail wagging.

“That’ll be the food,” Glen said, brushing a hand against Gabby’s arm as he passed her.

He returned a moment later, balancing a stack of takeout containers in one hand while shutting the door with the other. Gabby watched as he brought the bags to the kitchen counter and began unpacking them, the familiar aroma of Thai food filling the room.

“What do I owe you?” she asked, stepping closer to the counter.

Glen glanced at her over his shoulder, his brows furrowing slightly as if the question surprised him. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Glen,” she said, folding her arms. “I mean it. I don’t want you—or me, for that matter—feeling like I’m taking advantage of you.”

He paused, turning to look at her fully. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve paid for everything so far,” she said, motioning to the takeout. “Dinner on our first date, every DoorDash order, everything. I don’t want it to seem like I’m just… letting you take care of everything.”

Glen leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms as he considered her words. “You buy groceries when we cook at your place,” he pointed out.

Gabby tilted her head, giving him a skeptical look.

“What?” Glen asked, smirking now.

“I’m serious,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you.”

His expression shifted, the teasing glint in his eyes softening. He stepped toward her, his hands settling lightly on her waist.

“Gabby,” he said gently, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of her shirt. “I don’t think that at all. I wouldn’t have asked you over if I did.”

She let out a small sigh, her shoulders relaxing slightly, but he wasn’t done.

“Look,” he continued, “it’s still early, yeah. But these are our dates. I was raised that the guy is supposed to pay on the dates”

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she raised a brow. “Supposed to?”

“Yup,” he said confidently, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin.

“That’s such an old school thing.” She rolled her eyes, earning a low chuckle from him.

“Wait a second,” he said, his tone teasing as he tilted his head at her. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

Gabby met his gaze, challenging. “What if I did?”

His grin widened, and without another word, he leaned in, pressing his lips to the curve of her neck. She gasped softly as his warm breath ghosted against her skin, his voice low as he murmured, “Then I might have to make you take it back.”

Her laugh turned into a quiet hum as his kisses deepened, his hands sliding to her lower back to pull her closer. She threaded her fingers into his hair, and before she could think, Glen’s hands lifted her onto the counter.

Glen’s lips moved against hers with a growing urgency, his hands steady on her hips as he pulled her closer to the edge of the counter. Gabby’s fingers slid into his hair, tugging lightly as her breath hitched.

“Glen,” she managed between kisses, her voice soft and a little breathless.

“Hmm?” he hummed against her lips, his hands trailing to her thighs.

“The food,” she murmured, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, though her hands didn’t leave his hair.

“What about it?” he asked, his voice low and rough, his forehead resting against hers as his hands tightened their hold on her.

“It’s going to get cold,” she pointed out, her tone half-hearted, as though she wasn’t entirely convinced it mattered.

Glen grinned, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth as he whispered, “I’m hungry for something else.”

Her laugh was soft and breathy, and she gave him a look that was equal parts amused and exasperated. “Glen,” she said again, her tone firmer this time, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

He groaned dramatically, letting his forehead drop to her shoulder as he sighed.

“Fine,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to help her slide off the counter. “We can eat.”

Gabby smirked, smoothing her shirt as she stepped back toward the counter, her cheeks still flushed. “Thank you for your sacrifice.”

He shot her a playful glare as he grabbed the takeout containers, setting them on the counter with a bit more flair than necessary.

“But just so we’re clear,” he said, his tone serious even as his lips quirked into a grin, “I’m coming back for dessert later.”

She didn’t respond, but the warmth in her smile and the quick glance she gave him said enough.

As they settled at the counter with their takeout containers spread out between them, the casual clinking of chopsticks and soft rustle of food filled the air. Glen cracked open the lid of his container and took a sniff. "Okay, this might be the best-smelling food I’ve ever had," he said, grabbing a generous bite.

Gabby raised an eyebrow as she poked at her dumplings. “You said that about the tacos we had last night.”

“Yeah, but this time I mean it,” he shot back, his mouth full enough to make her wrinkle her nose.

They ate in comfortable silence for a moment before Glen leaned his chin on his hand, watching her. “So, what’s your guilty pleasure food?”

Gabby paused mid-bite, considering. “Hmm. Probably mac and cheese. But like, the boxed kind. The neon orange powder stuff. None of that fancy baked nonsense.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I knew you were secretly a five-year-old.”

She gave him a mock glare. “Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve had it Mr. Won’t Eat Cheese. What about you?”

“Easy,” he said, without hesitation. “Pop-Tarts. Strawberry. No frosting.”

“No frosting?” she exclaimed, looking genuinely horrified. “What kind of monster eats Pop-Tarts without frosting?”

“This kind,” he said proudly, tapping his chest. “They’re better that way.”

“You’re objectively wrong,” she declared, shaking her head in mock disbelief.

“Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.” He shrugged, reaching for another bite of pad Thai.

“Or,” she countered, narrowing her eyes, “you’ll have to come over for breakfast sometime and let me prove you wrong.”

His brows lifted in interest. “You’re challenging me to a Pop-Tart showdown?”

“Absolutely,” she said with a confident nod. “Frosted strawberry will change your life.”

Glen laughed, the kind of laugh that felt easy and genuine. “Alright, deal. But don’t cry when you realize you’ve been living a lie.”

“Yeah, okay,” she said, smirking. “We’ll see about that.”

The conversation drifted as they kept eating, dipping into lighter topics like movies they loved and places they wanted to visit someday. There was a warmth between them, the kind that made the night feel effortless, as though they’d been doing this for years rather than weeks.

When Gabby reached for the last dumpling, Glen swooped in with his chopsticks, snatching it right before she could.

“Hey!” she protested, staring at him in mock betrayal.

He grinned as he popped it into his mouth, chewing with exaggerated satisfaction. “You snooze, you lose.”

“You’re the worst,” she said, though her smile betrayed her.

“And yet, here you are,” he replied, leaning back in his seat with a triumphant grin.

After dinner, Gabby stood and started gathering up the empty containers, stacking them neatly as Glen leaned back against the counter, watching her with a satisfied smile.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s no big deal,” she replied, waving him off as she carried the trash over to the bin. “You bought dinner, and wouldn’t let me pay for at least my share. So the least I can do is help clean up.”

She noticed a couple of dishes in the sink—a stray coffee mug and a plate from earlier in the day. Without hesitation, she rolled up her sleeves and started rinsing them off.

“Gabby,” Glen said, his tone warning, as he moved to stand behind her. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning,” she answered simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“This is my house,” he reminded her, stepping closer. “And my rules clearly state: no guests do chores.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, is that so?”

“It is.” His voice held a playful firmness, but Gabby wasn’t one to back down easily.

“Well,” she said, turning back to the dishes and continuing to rinse, “I’m not a guest, technically. I’m more of a—what’s the term? Frequent flyer? That means the rule doesn’t apply to me.”

“Frequent flyer?” he repeated, amused. “You’re really stretching here, babe.”

“Call it what you want,” she quipped, reaching for the dish soap. “But I’m finishing these.”

Glen moved quickly, stepping close enough that she could feel the warmth of him at her back. She turned, ready to protest, but the look in his eyes stopped her. His brow lifted, silently telling her to drop it.

“Glen—”

Before she could say another word, he cupped her face and kissed her. It wasn’t rushed or heated, but slow and deliberate, his lips brushing hers just enough to make her heart stutter. He pulled back just slightly, their foreheads nearly touching.

“Let me do it,” he murmured, his voice low and coaxing.

Gabby blinked up at him, momentarily disarmed. “You’re using kissing to get your way now?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a small smirk. “Is it working?”

She rolled her eyes, but her lips curved into a reluctant smile. “Fine. But only because you’re stubborn.”

“Stubborn and charming,” he corrected, taking the sponge from her hand and tossing it into the sink. “Now, go relax while I handle this.”

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, stepping aside.

“True,” he called over his shoulder as he began cleaning up the counter. “But you like me anyway.”

Gabby laughed, shaking her head as she leaned against the kitchen island. Watching Glen hum softly while he tidied up, she couldn’t help but think that, yes, she liked him—a little more than she cared to admit.

The evening slowly shifted into that quiet, comfortable lull that comes when two people are perfectly content in each other's company. Gabby was perched on the couch, her legs curled beneath her as she absently scrolled through a playlist on her phone, and Glen was sitting next to her, leaning back against the cushions with his arm draped casually along the backrest.

As the last song of her playlist faded, Glen glanced over at her, his hazel eyes warm but hesitant. “Hey,” he said softly, his tone different now—gentler, more deliberate.

Gabby turned to him, her head tilting slightly. “Yeah?”

His hand reached for hers, threading their fingers together as he gave a small smile. “Do you, uh… want to stay the night?”

Her heart gave a quick, surprised flutter. They’d spent plenty of time together over the last week, but this felt different—more significant, somehow.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

Glen gave her hand a soft squeeze and nodded, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his usual confidence. “Yeah. I want you here, with me.”

Gabby’s lips curved into a small smile as she nodded. “Okay,” she said simply.

He smiled back, relief flickering across his face, and stood, tugging her gently to her feet.

“Come on,” he said, his voice dipping lower as he led her toward his bedroom.

Once inside, the atmosphere shifted. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast warm, golden light across the room, making it feel cozy and intimate. Glen turned to face her, his hands resting lightly on her hips as she looked up at him, her breath catching.

He leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a soft, lingering kiss that quickly deepened. Gabby’s hands slid up to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he pulled her closer. The world outside seemed to fade as they got lost in each other, their movements slow and deliberate, as if they had all the time in the world.

Glen’s hands skimmed her sides, his touch firm but careful, and when he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his expression was tender. His lips found hers again, and this time there was no hesitation. The kiss turned hungrier, more urgent, as they backed toward the bed. Glen’s hands moved to the hem of her top, and when she nodded her silent permission, he carefully lifted it over her head and tossed it aside.

She mirrored his movements, her hands tugging at the fabric of his shirt until he pulled it off and let it drop to the floor. For a moment, they paused, their eyes locking as if to silently check in with each other.

“This all okay?” he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Gabby nodded again, a small, nervous laugh escaping her. Glen reached for her hand again, intertwining their fingers as he guided her gently toward the bed. The quiet confidence in his movements steadied the fluttering nerves that Gabby felt bubbling just beneath the surface. As the backs of her knees brushed the edge of the mattress, Glen paused, looking down at her as if he was committing every detail to memory—the soft curve of her lips, the way her hair framed her face, the trust in her eyes.

Still holding her hand, he leaned down, brushing his lips across hers in a kiss so gentle it sent shivers down her spine. She let out a soft sigh, her free hand moving instinctively to rest against his chest, her fingertips grazing the warmth of his skin.

Glen smiled against her lips, the corners of his mouth curving in that way that always made her heart skip. "You’re so beautiful," he murmured, his voice quiet but heavy with sincerity.

Gabby felt her cheeks flush, and she ducked her head slightly, unable to hide the small, bashful smile that tugged at her lips. “You’re just saying that,” she whispered.

He tipped her chin back up with a single finger, his eyes meeting hers. “I’m not,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Before she could reply, his lips captured hers again, this time with more urgency. As the kiss deepened, Glen’s hands found her waist, and he guided her back onto the bed, following her down until they were both lying against the soft comforter.

Gabby’s heart raced as Glen hovered above her, his weight supported by his arms on either side of her. His gaze swept over her, equal parts admiration and restraint, as if he wanted to take his time but was finding it harder with every passing second.

“You sure about this?” he asked softly, his voice low and almost reverent.

Her answer was immediate, her hands sliding up to cradle his face. “I’m sure,” she whispered, pulling him down for another kiss.

Glen’s lips moved from hers, tracing a slow, deliberate path along her jaw and down the curve of her neck. Gabby’s breath hitched as he lingered at the sensitive spot just below her ear, his warm breath sending a wave of goosebumps across her skin.

Her hands roamed over his back, exploring the planes of muscle there as he continued to press soft, heated kisses along her collarbone. When his lips found their way back to hers, her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

As the kiss deepened, Glen’s hands began to move with quiet certainty, his fingers brushing over the waistband of her jeans. Gabby’s breath caught in her throat as she felt his gentle tug, pulling the fabric down over her hips. She hesitated for a brief second, her stomach tightening with a sudden, unfamiliar feeling.

The jeans were gone in seconds, but as he moved to remove her shirt, Gabby instinctively covered herself with her hands, suddenly aware of every inch of exposed skin. She felt a flush creep across her chest, her breath shallow as she avoided his gaze for just a moment.

Glen paused, noticing the shift in her energy. He lifted his eyes to meet hers, the tenderness in his gaze giving her an almost overwhelming sense of comfort.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his hands still resting on her waist, the warmth of his touch grounding her.

Gabby shook her head quickly, trying to brush it off. “Nothing,” she said, offering him a half-smile. “Just… I don’t know. I’m fine.”

But Glen didn’t buy it. His brow furrowed in concern as he searched her eyes, sensing the unease she was trying to hide. His fingers gently cupped her face, urging her to meet his gaze.

“Gabs, hey,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. “Talk to me.”

She sighed, her body tensing under the weight of her vulnerability. She was used to being comfortable with Glen, but now–she felt exposed. And it terrified her.

“I just... I don’t know,” she said, her voice trailing off as she gestured at herself. “I’m not exactly—” She cut herself off, the insecurity creeping in again.

Glen’s eyes softened, and his expression changed to one of pure understanding. He moved slowly, deliberately, his hands trailing down her arms, coaxing her to relax.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

Gabby opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her with a gentle finger to her lips.

“No,” he said, his voice firm but tender. “You are. And I’m not just saying that or because I’m your boyfriend or whatever else you were about to say.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his words, but she still felt that twinge of insecurity, the nagging thought that she didn’t look like the women in magazines or the ones she imagined he’d been with before.

But before she could say anything more, Glen lowered himself beside her, his lips finding the sensitive skin just below her ear. His kisses were slow, soft, and deliberate, each one trailing down her neck, over her collarbone, and slowly, carefully, down her chest.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, his voice thick with admiration. His lips moved lower, brushing across her stomach, and Gabby let out a shaky breath, her body shuddering with each kiss. “Every inch of you is beautiful,” he whispered against her skin.

Gabby closed her eyes, the warmth of his kisses and the sincerity in his words slowly melting away her insecurities. She felt his hands roam along her body, exploring her with such reverence that it felt like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. His lips, soft but insistent, found their way back to hers, kissing her.

Glen pulled away just slightly, his eyes meeting hers again. “You’re perfect, Gabby,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And you don’t need to be anything but yourself for me.”

Gabby’s chest tightened, a lump forming in her throat. The vulnerability, the raw honesty between them, made her heart swell in a way she wasn’t prepared for. She reached for him, pulling him back down into a kiss, letting her hands wander over his back, feeling the heat of his skin, grounding herself in the reality of this moment.

It was slow and tender, the kind of kiss that felt like more than just passion—it was a promise. A promise that, despite her insecurities, she was worthy of this, of him.

Glen’s hands were steady as he slowly slid her underwear down her legs, his gaze never leaving hers. She inhaled sharply, the tension between them thickening, her heart beating faster. When she was completely exposed to him, she couldn’t help but glance down, her eyes tracing the line of his body as he undressed. The sight of him—completely bare—made her pulse quicken.

Once he was bare before her, he leaned down, the muscles in his back rippling with the movement. He crawled back onto the bed, his body brushing against hers as he kissed her again, slow and deliberate, his lips trailing over hers in a heated, tender kiss. Gabby’s breath caught in her throat as she felt the weight of him, all of him, pressing closer, and yet there was an undeniable gentleness in the way he kissed her.

He slid his hand up to her face, cupping it softly as their lips moved together. She kissed him back with an intensity of her own, her hands running up and down his back, feeling every inch of the muscles she had admired from a distance. She couldn’t help but smile against his lips, that nagging insecurity from earlier slowly melting away with every kiss, every touch, every second they spent together.

Glen pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against hers. He was breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling as he smiled softly at her. “You good?” he whispered, his voice low and husky.

Gabby nodded, her hands sliding down his chest, feeling the heat of his skin under her fingertips. “I’m good,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. And for the first time in a while, she truly felt it—good, real, safe.

Glen pulled away just slightly, his hand moving to the nightstand. Gabby watched him curiously, but then understood when she saw the small box in his hand. He looked at her for a moment, his expression soft but serious.

Gabby nodded. Glen carefully opened the box and retrieved a condom, a quiet moment of practicality amidst the heat of the moment. He gave her a reassuring smile as he slid it on.

"Still sure about this?" he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. Gabby nodded, feeling more at ease now that she knew they were both on the same page.

"Yeah," she murmured, smiling up at him, appreciating the care he’d shown. "I’m sure."

As Glen positioned himself above her, he moved slowly, giving her time to adjust. When he finally slid into her, both of them paused.

Gabby’s breath hitched as she felt the initial stretch, a slight discomfort making her eyes flutter shut. She’d imagined this moment, but the reality was different—more intimate, more overwhelming. She could feel herself tense, it having been a while since she’d been with anyone.

But then, Glen’s hands found her face, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek. His voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he murmured against her ear, “You’re doing great. Just breathe, babe. I’ll go slow.”

His words grounded her, bringing her focus back to him. His presence was calm and steady, and the tenderness in his gaze told her everything she needed to know. Slowly, the discomfort eased, and Gabby let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Glen’s hands moved to her waist, helping her adjust as he began to move, slowly at first, giving her the space she needed. Every inch of him was careful, focused on her, his eyes locked on hers as if he were waiting for any sign that she needed a break. “Tell me if you need me to stop,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear.

Gabby’s breath was shallow, but with each movement, the discomfort slowly faded, replaced by something deeper, something more intense. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, her hands gripping his back as she began to meet his movements, urging him on.

Glen kissed her forehead, his lips soft against her skin, whispering more reassurances as they moved together. His voice was hoarse with the effort of holding back, his movements becoming more urgent but still patient, still focused on making sure she was okay.

Gabby, feeling the heat building between them, nodded, her body responding to his in a way that made her forget about the earlier discomfort.

“I’m okay now. You can go faster,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible, but it was enough.

Glen’s pace quickened then, his movements more desperate. As the tension built, Gabby found herself spiraling, lost in the sensation, and with one final whisper of his name, she reached the peak, her body trembling beneath him.

He followed soon after, his name leaving her lips in a breathless moan as they both rode out their highs together.

After Glen collapsed beside her, pulling her close as they both tried to catch their breath, their bodies tangled together beneath the soft covers. Gabby nestled into his chest, her head resting against his shoulder, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.

But the silence was comfortable, filled with the soft sounds of their breathing, the warmth of their bodies pressed together.

“You okay?” Glen finally asked his hand tracing patterns along her back.

Gabby smiled, a soft, contented sigh escaping her lips.

“Yeah,” she whispered, her voice full of warmth and trust.

After the shared silence of their embrace, Glen gently pressed a kiss to Gabby’s forehead before slipping out of bed. His movements were slow, and careful, as if not wanting to disturb the peace between them.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, and she nodded, her eyes closing as she listened to the soft sounds of him moving around the room.

When he returned, he held a t-shirt in his hand, the soft fabric looking a little worn, the familiar scent of him still lingering on it.

“Here,” he said, offering it to her with a warm smile. “Figured you might want something to wear.”

Gabby glanced up at him, still feeling the warmth from their shared moment. She took the shirt from him, fingers brushing against his as she did. “Thanks,” she murmured softly, feeling a little shy now that the raw intensity of the moment had passed.

She slid off the bed and moved toward the bathroom, using the restroom and freshening up before returning to him. When she came back, she saw Glen had pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and was now laying on the bed.

Gabby put on her underwear and then slipped into the oversized shirt Glen had given her, the cotton fabric falling just past her thighs.

She crawled back into bed, settling next to him, feeling the softness of the sheets beneath her. Glen shifted, making space for her, then wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. His touch was light, almost protective as if wanting to ensure she felt safe and cherished.

Gabby snuggled into his chest, the warmth of his body lulling her into a sense of peace. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this comfortable with someone. The vulnerability they’d shared earlier still lingered between them, but now it was wrapped in the softness of intimacy, trust, and care.

“You okay?” Glen asked quietly, his voice soft and steady as his fingers gently traced circles on her back.

Gabby looked up at him, her eyes meeting his with a smile that reached her eyes. “Yeah,” she said, her voice low but filled with contentment. “I’m really good, Glen. Thanks for… everything.”

He smiled down at her, his eyes soft with affection. “Anytime,” he murmured, kissing her forehead gently.

They lay there in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound between them the gentle rhythm of their breathing, the quiet peace that came from being close to someone who truly cared. Gabby closed her eyes, letting the weight of the moment wash over her, feeling safe, seen, and, for the first time in a long time, completely at ease.

Glen didn’t say anything more, but his hand gently stroked her hair, a tender gesture that spoke louder than any words could. And as she drifted off to sleep in his arms, she couldn’t help but think that this—this was exactly what she needed, what she had been longing for without even knowing it.

#Glen Powell #Glen Powell Fic #Glen Powell Fanfic #Glen Powell Fanfiction #Glen Powell Series #Glen Powell x OC #Glen Powell x Original Character

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enhrtz · 3 days ago

Text

The First Kiss — (엔히아픈)

syp ꕀ the enhypen members are your boyfriends and you guys decided to kiss eachother for the first time

characters ꕀ jungwon, heesung, jaeyun, sunghoon, sunoo, jay, and niki

context ꕀ first kiss, gn!reader, (black writer, some things may sound a likkle weird), jake gets physical (no smut), dancer!niki, fluff, jay has an obsession with stealing your food, ice skater!sunghoon, affectionate!sunoo, (if i’m missing some, let me know✨)

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

JUNGWON. ݁₊ ⊹.ᐟ

“I love you so much!” jungwon giggled, corners of his mouth nearly touching his ears.

you and jungwon were walking out the doors of a fancy restaurant that shined with lights and embraced a chill vibe. jungwon thought it would be cute to take you out on a date and enjoy your sweet presence. your hand was interlocked with his as both of you shared heat in the cold.

“I love you too wonnie!” you cooed, putting your head on his shoulder.

jungwon footsteps became slower and you followed along with him—your heart slightly speeding up in your chest as you felt a different vibe from this moment. he bites the inner muscle of his lip, his dimples poke out and his eyes meet the ground.

“would right now… be a perfect time?”

his boba eyes stared into your face and your hands begin to sweat, a slight noise erupts from your throat as you swallowed nothing but air. your head nodded a ‘yes’ uncontrollably and the gap between the lips of two lovers was sealed. it was cute, sweet, and you tasted a faint red velvety flavor from his tongue.

“we should have done this more sooner” he grinned, giving you a quick peck before moving his feet towards the vehicle that takes you guys home.

HEESUNG. ݁₊ ⊹.ᐟ

heesung was standing behind you at the ‘wheel of fortune’ game at dave & busters and his smile beams when you land on ‘M 1000’.

you jumped up and down like a big kid, gathering all of your tickets putting them in a bag that heesung brought for you to carry.

“what game do you wanna play now?”

“i don’t know… which one?” you questioned, your pointer finger on your lip as you turn every which way to find a game of your interest.

“it’s your birthday love, whichever you want.”

in the process of him saying that you found a game of your choice. you began to speed walk towards ‘hungry hungry hippo’ and heesung followed you with no big deal. he places the bag of tickets down next to him as he sits on the hippo with you, placing his card against the scanner.

you both began to laugh and giggle when you guys fight against each other to catch as many balls as you can in the hippos territory. the game had ended and the results—heesung won and you didn’t but that didn’t matter because you had also won something else.

“babe come here” he gestures you with his hand out.

you grabbed his hand and he sped walk to a location you wasn’t familiar with. it was a dark room and you could smell the faint scent of a strawberry shortcake, which was indeed your favorite.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” everyone shouts, lights turning on and your heart jumps out of your chest followed by a scream that had eveyone in the arcade look at you funny.

you felt a pair of hands on your cheeks, guding your face towards another direction away from the people. your lips being attached to none other than heesung and you suddenly forgot that people were in the room.

“WE reserved this room for EATING.” jay announced, cutting you two out of your, what you’d like to call, “daydream”

you and heesung giggled, as he gives you a quick peck on your forehead.

“happy birthday love”

JAEYUN. ݁₊ ⊹.ᐟ

it was series sunday and you were cuddled up on the couch with jaeyun watching a series ‘outer banks’ while stuffing your throats with delicious snacks.

in the meantime you started to get sleepy and you kept falling in and out. jaeyun noticed and he puts your head on his shoulder, watching the show for you and himself.

“do you want me to tell you what happened after you wake up?” he offered, putting his head on yours.

you shook your head ‘no’ readjusting your body to a better postion to take a nap. your head now on his thighs and your body curved like a fetus, his fingers massaging your head in soft circular motions. your body buzzing with peacefulness.

his touch so warm, makes your body fuzzy you had the urge to kiss him. you guys have been dating for 3 months what could go wrong?

“kiss me” you ordered. jaeyun looked down with his glasses slightly falling down his nose bridge.

“where is this energy coming from?” he says with a slight smile on his face.

“nowhere. i just feel like right now is a good time to try something new”

you sat back up, staring at jaeyun’s tinted red lips and went in for a kiss. his mouth soft, you followed along his movements head tilting opposite of eachother and hands around his neck, his weight pushed your back towards the couch pillows. slight breaths escaped your lips, fogging up his glasses he took them off and kissed you deeper with his body on top of you.

you pulled away, searching for air as you felt your lung capacity fill up with overwhelming joy.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry!” jaeyun apologized, removing his body from above you.

you laid still, shocked as for what just happened and why you did it. you don’t regret what you did and you want more but you believe that kissed proved enough for you.

“you kissed me so good i just… got a bit too ahead of myself”

SUNGHOON. ݁₊ ⊹.ᐟ

“i’m a horrible ice skater” you said as sunghoon was tying up your skates.

“you’re with me you’re going to be okay, i promise. just remember the basics in what i told you. bend your knees, duck walk, and lean forward a little”

you gave sunghoon a stare that stated your fear for the ice. you hated ice skating but you thought going ice skating with your boyfriend wasn’t a bad idea and with that he stands up, holding out his hand.

you grab onto his hand, walking on the carpet floor before sunghoon stepped his foot out the glass door onto the solid ice. his stance was stable and he slightly tugged you onto the ice, it was a gesture of ‘i got you’

feet touching the solid ice you let out a muffled scream when you felt yourself jerk back from how slippery the floor was. sunghoon holding you tight against him, making sure he didn’t break your safety trust.

“remember the things i taught you” his voice calming your anxiety. you unlatched yourself from his tight safety grip and bent your knees, leaned forward, and took small steps one by one.

“there you go. look at you getting it!”

you slightly smile at his words. his presence making a huge difference for you, leading you to finally give trust in yourself to go on your own.

“i got it from here!”

“you sure?”

you nodded, keeping your hands out infront of you duck paddling your way around the rink. you saw sunghoon following behind you, making sure whatever happened he was going to be there to support you.

sunghoon grabbed your hands and skated backwards, dragging you along with him. his stroll on the floor matched the beat of the music playing on the loud speaker and you tried to catch up with his pace but it was too difficult.

sunghoon brushed his slightly red nose against yours, distracting you from the movement and redirecting your attention to the moment. you held his hand with grace and love, feeling warm inside.

pressing a kiss to his lips his skates still strolling acorss the ice, he had no intentions of letting you go even while you guys were sharing love within the lips.

pulling away, you both bumped foreheads and suddenly your fear from the ice disappeared and turned into a smile as you a skate across the ice with sunghoon.

SUNOO. ݁₊ ⊹.ᐟ

sunoo is such an affectionate person, he is always willing to do anything regarding love and you were so down for it.

you and sunoo were at a flower garden, dressed up with soft clothing for the occasion. so many flowers were out on the grass and you didn’t know which one to look at.

“wanna play a game?” sunoo questioned, his attention still on the flowers.

“what game is it?”

“rare flowers. whoever finds the rarest flower has to make dinner tonight. dea—“

you were already on the move, finding a flower you and sunoo hasn’t seen before. you heard his faint laugh from afar and you chuckled. still searching for this random flower. you found a flower that was white on the outside and a slight pink on the inside, you’ve never seen this flower before and with that you picked it up running back up to sunoo noticing he never left his spot.

“i found a flower!” you showed in your hands. “where’s yours?”

“i don’t know, i think my rare flower is standing right infront of me”

you let out a loud ‘aww’ before tumbling him to the ground with a big hug. your bodies rolled around in the flowers, the scent of nature enhancing the mood.

you plant a kiss on his lips, which shocked you both because he wasn’t ready for that and you didn’t expect your lips to move before your brain. you felt awkward inside so you decided to take yourself off of him but he instantly pulled you back down on him sealing your lips together, with the flowers and sunlight on display.

JAY. ݁₊ ⊹.ᐟ

jay was a complete fat ass. he was and will be the first one to take any food away from you, he’ll let you get the first few bites obviously but after that its over.

it’s gotten to a point where you would have to hide your food from him but this time you didn’t need to hide food because you both were on a picnic in central park.

fresh fruits were in the basket, along with a few other snacks that you knew he was going to attack first. you guys decided to paint each-other something that represented your relationship.

setting out the materials, you were in the process of eating strawberries. you put your hand in the basket and realized there was one more left, jay side eyeing you in the process.

“bro. i know you not staring me down over a damn strawberry jay.” you laughed, placing the strawberry on your teeth.

“AHHH!” he yells, turning your face towards him before biting the top of the strawberry, leaving you the other half of the strawberry on your teeth.

you couldn’t stop laughing at your boyfriend and his silly behavior. the strawberry juices dripping from your lips as you used your hand to catch it before it fell on your canvas.

jay chewing the strawberry aggressively, while side eyeing you. he couldn’t hold himself together he bursted out laughing and you two were now a giggling mess.

“i love you,” jay says, leaning forward towards your face planting a kiss on your sweet strawberry lips.

you kissed him back, the strawberry tasted lingering in your tongue and your strawberry lip gloss getting on jays mouth.

“why do you taste like double the strawberries?” he questions, licking his lips.

“i had on strawberry lip gloss dummy”

“mmm. taste good!” he smiles, going back to kissing you.

NIKI. ݁₊ ⊹.ᐟ

you and niki were in the dance room sweating your asses away. you guys were rehearsing a choreography that your manger taught you guys 3 days ago for a show and you only had today to get the counts together and you were stressing.

there was one move you couldn’t hit on the beat and it was frustrating you. niki was doing his absolute best on explaining it with the counts.

“five, six, seven, eight. two, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. got it?”

you nodded your head, barely having the breath to speak. he pressed play on the song you guys were dancing to and when the part came up you immediately hit it right on the counts.

“was it that hard love?” he said, stopping the music and looking at your body collapse on the floor.

“yes!” you responded, nodding in the process. your body weak and you needed a break. you’ve been dancing for 2 hours straight and you ran out of energy.

niki came towards you with one of his hands under your back and the other hand under your legs. he picked you bridal style and walked with you towards the small couch in the corner of the dance room.

sitting down with you on his lap, he turns the AC on and goes on his phone to set an hour break because he know you needed it.

you controlled your breathing in the process of laying on his lap and he had cold towels to wipe the sweat off your body and keep you awake. you stared at him, while he was in the process of taking care of you.

“why are you just staring at me like that”

you placed your hand in your chest. “i can’t stare at my handsome boyfriend while he’s taking care of me?”

niki chuckled. “of course you can. but are you really staring at me or my lips? if you want a kiss just say that.”

he gives you a cocky glare that screamed ‘got ya.’ this was about to be your first kiss with him and you didn’t expect for it to be in a dance room and especially you didn’t think he’d be so bold about it.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up and planting a kiss on his lips. niki’s hands were on your lower back as he was supporting you from falling off of him. slight humming sounds escaped the lips of both lovers and a muffled scream came from you when you heard the door opening.

“alright, let me see what you guys got.” the mangaer announces.

you were standing up while niki was sitting on the couch, manspreading. he pulled his phone out and showed the manager that you guys had 8 minutes left of a break and with that the manager left you two alone.

your heart beating out of your chest, as you turn around to see niki standing in-front of you wanting to be attached to you’re luscious lips once again.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

! not proof read ! ~ likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated :>

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