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ebsmind · 18 days ago

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My Little Treasure | president!Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : being the presidents mistress isn’t easy. even when another woman comes out saying she’s having an affair with him.

word count : 8.5k (the longest ive ever written BE PROUD OF ME)

warning(s) : this is purely based off of shonda rhimes SCANDAL sjiwiejdj, angst, longing (kinda? idk), cheating/infidelity (nellie deserves better), reader pushes her feeling aside, timo being called nico’s personal bitch AHAHAHA, murder (mentioned in case), non accurate descriptions of politics and law stuff, like 2-3 mentions of vomit , use of Y/N (I tried not too but I just couldn't), tbh there’s not a lot of nico x reader IM SORRY part 2 will make up for it, heavy makeout session, smut kinda? idk but next part will be smutty TRUST, getting caught by timo (what the hell Timo), VIOLENCE aka just a slap in the face, one flashback spicy scene and i think that's it!

a/n : LISTEN LISTEN before i say ANYTHING i just wanted to say that i know nico isn’t american but im currently hyper fixated on him and only him and i just started watching scandal again SO I HAD TO so please if you don’t like the “accuracy” don’t read it! this is FICTIONAL but yeah here we are! this closely follows the first episode from season 1! this is a long oneeeee! i’ve also changed the names of Abby, Quinn, Harrison, Huck, AND Cyrus (you’ll see who I change him with 😏) I also go along with the case that’s happening so this is semi like a mystery but not? idk how to explain but you’ll see as you read. send me something in my inbox if you want me to elaborate on anything about the side characters! i definitely want to turn this into an au so send me something so i can write about it or talk about it! here’s the mood board! this is also my second time writing anything spicy so please bear with me, this whole fic idea really had me out of my comfort zone so it isn't my best writing but I still wanted to get this out!

The clicks of your So Kate’s are heard throughout the law firm. Everyone knows it’s you, just by the way you walk. It’s swift and carries determination, you are on a mission. You present yourself with a sense of purpose to your colleagues. Scratch that, they’re family. Despite them technically being your coworkers, you would do anything for the four of them. From saving Gwen from her violent ex-husband to Kurt, a soldier who had served in the United States CIA’s top secret, off the books, B-613 program who ended up being dumped on the streets to beg for food, you saved them and they were all you had.

You step into the standard-sized conference room, and the extensive window along the back wall displays an orange-to-blue hue. The sun is setting and making it known that the end of the day is near. You first make eye contact with Blair, the senior associate at the firm. She stops her conversation amongst everyone and before she can greet you, Kurt, who is sitting at the very right end of the table, utters, “Perla Schmitz killed herself, channel 5.”

You make no time to strut to the table and grab the TV remote, which had been sitting next to Blair. You don’t need to change the channel once you press the power button on the remote, it’s all you watch in the firm—across the 55’ inch screen, displayed in bold lettering ‘Perla Schmitz (26) found dead in her home’. You take a second to yourself. Perla had been caught cheating on her husband, who was a very conservative congressman, but that wasn’t the icing on the cake. The guy she was having an affair with? He murdered her husband, brutally. 27 stab wounds to the chest, his head almost decapitated because of how much force was used to slit his throat. If someone were to ask you, you’d say she had it coming.

You turn to the group and raise a finger in the air as you start to speak. “We knew this was coming, let’s not pretend that she wasn’t the one cheating on her husband.”

Perla came into your office late last Friday night, around 11:25. You had stayed longer than you originally wanted to, needing to finish up some paperwork that had to be done for one of the previous clients you had. What a way to bring in the new year, but you weren’t complaining.

“Exactly! I knew she didn’t have enough willpower to continue her life. She took the easy way out, man.” You take a seat at the left end side of the table, parallel to Kurt while Neil, another associate and close friend of yours finishes his veracious remark. You decide it’s best to tell Neil and everyone else to drop the topic, but before you can open your mouth, the firm doors open. The 7-foot ebony-colored wood doors reveal a man with black hair and blue eyes, maybe mid to late 20s. The first thing you notice is how his eyes tear up before he speaks, not how he’s covered in blood.

“I-…I didn’t kill her I swear! She was my best friend, we were gonna get married!”

Your irises scan over the pinned evidence on the whiteboard, it had been approximately 18 hours since the 6’2 blood blood-covered man had walked into your firm. Sully St. James comes from an extremely well-respected family. His father was a Veteran from the Vietnam War. Sully himself had done two tours in Iraq and received the Medal of Honor. Having someone as well respected as him, show up to the front door of your firm, asking for help wasn’t new but you were determined to help the man not get convicted as the killer in his girlfriend’s murder case. You needed time, but the US attorney general David Rosen was stubborn.

“Okay! So, according to Sully, he had just come home from the bar down on 9th St, called SOST, he then walked into the bathroom where the crime scene is, saw Paige’s body on the ground,” Blair points out and before she can finish her sentence Kurt cuts her off.

“Paige suffered from 2 bullets to the chest and 1 to the head. This wasn’t a freak accident, someone wanted her dead.” Kurt crosses his arms and moves up from the far end of the table. He was correct, but your gut couldn’t help but wail that Sully was not the cause.

Blair continues to explain the approximate details, “Here’s the weird part, Sully calls the police but before they can get there he flies, and he flies here.” She takes a step away from the whiteboard and makes eye contact with you. She can sense what you’re already going to say. Blair knows you, and she knows you like the back of her hand.

“My gut tells me that he didn’t do this. Something is missing. I need more, all of you need to try to find something, anything! Anything that can clear this man’s alibi. He said it himself that he loved her and that she was his best friend. I believe him.” You step up from the chair you were sitting in and start heading towards the conference room doors when your cell phone starts to ring. Grabbing it out of your left pocket, the name “Timo Meier” is displayed across the screen. You huff in response.

He needs you right now and you know if Timo were to tell you to head to the White House as soon as possible you would and it wouldn’t end in a way you would like. Yet, you still manage to press the green button, confirming the call.

“What do you want.” You’re busy and Timo knows it. This isn’t some ‘Oh hi! How are you doing? I haven’t heard from you in a while phone call. Timo didn’t have time for that, being the White House’s Chief of Staff to Nico Hischiers personal bitch, he never had time.

Timo sighs, you can already picture him, sitting at his desk, elbow resting on it, his thumb and pointer finger trying to relieve his throbbing headache. Timo did so much for the President of the United States and somehow that included calling you on a random Tuesday afternoon.

“He needs you to come in. Something happened and we need you to make it go away.” Timo lets you take a second to respond. Already sensing that the situation was substandard, it had been months since you had last spoken to Timo and maybe even half a year since you’ve seen Nico. Physically. It wasn’t that you hated him, you could never. It was the fact you left your position as the White House Communications Director for yourself. Everything you did was always for Nico and never not you and when the realization of that hit you, it was time to go. It’s time to separate yourself from some fantasy that only ever works out in the books. The feeling of two hands wrapped around your throat finally caught up to you.

“I’ve got a client sitting in my conference room Timo.”

“Look, I know, I know, but this isn’t something that needs to be out in the public. Make it go away. Please. If not for him, for me.” He’s desperate and you know it. If you were to tell him that the only reason you were about to agree was because you held him in such high regard, you’d never hear the end of it. So, you keep your reply as simple as needed.

“Okay, I’ll be there in 45 minutes. I need to let Neil know.”

You spot Timo before he spots you. He’s sat on a bench, perhaps getting some proper vitamin D. You watch the way his foot taps every other millisecond. Being cooped up in a mediocre-sized office in the White House can make someone feel insane, you’ve been there.

As you get closer, you examine the navy blue suit that he’s dressed in. It’s his favorite one, he has 3 more pairs of it because he wears it so much. His tie has gold accents on it, it’s from his wife. You had helped her pick it out for him since you had seen him a lot more than she did. His eyes are heavy, he’s needs a vacation, a long one to be exact. You’ll let Nico know if you ever see him again, maybe he can pull some strings for him even if it’s a nice (long-awaited) expensive dinner.

You walk up the concrete steps before reaching Timo, the only thing grabbing his attention is the click of your heels. Once he realizes that you have walked up to him, you open your mouth to greet him.

“What.” Timo giggles, he’s knows you mean business but he can’t deny he misses your presence around in the White House even if you were telling him off half of the time.

“Well, hello to you too.” He stands up and gestures to start walking with him. You obey and within a second you guys stride across the walkway that overlooks the White House.

“What do you need me for Timo? I don’t work for him anymore.”

“He needs a favor.” You scoff at Timo and choose not to say anything.

“You still came. You came when I called.” His words hit you like a bus. It stings. Both you and Timo know that whenever the President needs anything from you, you’ll be there in a heartbeat. You’d do anything for everyone you love. You were loyal. That’s how it always had been and why Nico wanted you there every step of the way. He knew that he could turn his back and not expect a knife to be plunged into it.

“Her name is Vanessa Wyatt. She works in AIDE. She claims to have had an affair with him. I need you to make it go away and fast.” Timo places his right arm on his abdomen, in response you hook your left one into his right and walk side by side with Timo.

“Is it true?” You try to show no reaction but green envy begins to boil in your stomach.

“No, of course not, but I need you to shut it down.”

“I need to see him.” You don’t think about your reply until after it leaves your mouth. Both you and Timo come to an abrupt stop. He takes a step back and faces you.

“No, I don’t think that’s possible.”

“You want me to shut her up? Then I need to look at him in the eyes and know he’s not lying.” Timo knows that you're serious. You always are.

“The President’s schedule is packed. He has no time to see you.” He’s straightforward, Timo doesn’t have time for negotiating but luckily for you, you’re a persuasive person. You tend to always get what you want even if it means overstepping some boundaries.

“He wants my services but here’s the thing Timo, I do not work for him anymore! So, tell him to make time to see me if not you’re just gonna have to find someone else to do it for you. You know where to find me.”

After giving Timo a faint smile, you turn to walk away. As one foot goes in front of the other, you can’t help but feel that some part of this story is true making your heart ache.

By the time you get back to your office, you get a phone call from Timo, confirming that Nico managed to get out of a meeting so that he could talk to you. With that, you grab your coat off the coat rack and start heading towards the conference room to let at least Gwen know about your abrupt departure.

“Hey Gwen, duty calls at the White House, I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Anything new?” Gwen knows you’re talking about the case and before she utters anything new she’s found, she strides to the door and closes it.

Knowing that Sully is just in the room next door, she lowers her voice, “Kurt managed to get into Paige’s email and I’ve been reading. I found one where she emailed a friend. She was supposed to meet up with a friend at the embassy party together but never showed.”

You nod your head to show that you understand but it’s not enough information to be able to explain why Paige was murdered so, you request more information.

“Who? and Why?” Keep it simple.

Gwen takes about a second before she replies, “A girl named Ariel, and I don’t know why.”

“Find out why. ‘I don’t know’ is not an answer I’m gonna take.” That sentence leaves your mouth as fast as lightning strikes the Earth’s outermost crust.

To other people, your reply would’ve been seen as impolite but to you and everyone at the firm, it was just that ‘I don’t know’ wouldn’t get you anywhere in a case. Especially when so much is at stake.

“I won’t be long Gwen. Tell Blair and she’ll go interview the friend.”

Once you arrive at the White House you are led to Timo’s office. It’s nice and spacious, with a window that overlooks a garden. Nellie’s garden. A sour taste forms in your mouth. The garden is small, not as big as Jacqueline Kennedy’s garden but Nellie insisted she needed her own. You were told moments ago that she’d be attending this “meeting” and as much as you dislike it, you can’t help but feel empathy for Nellie. She was nothing but nice to you when Nico hired you as the manager for his campaign. It sucked most that you went not even a month later you started sleeping with her husband.

The combined noises of clothes rustling and heavy breaths consume the aura of the small hotel room. It’s unbelievable how an innocent dinner between two ‘colleagues’ can turn outright sexual within two hours, but you weren’t complaining. Maybe it was the two glasses of cabernet sauvignon that your unconscious level of operation had convinced you to drink.

Nico places open-mouthed kisses from behind your ear, down to the spot on your breast that the black lace push-up bra doesn’t cover. The white ironed shirt, that had been covering your bra, had been tossed over your head about 15 minutes ago and the black midi skirt was currently being tugged down your hips. As for Nico, all to go was the baby blue dress shirt he wore, and the black tie. Which had been taken off right when the two of you entered the room. His dark navy blue pants remained on the list of clothes that needed to be discarded.

You take a second to admire Nico’s disheveled hair. The thought of pulling it with your fingers when he whispers sweet nothing’s into your core flashes across your mind. Nico cuts off that thought once his lips make contact with yours. It’s messy and filled with need. The months of longing stares, mainly from him, were finally catching up. You take notice that your black skirt is now pooled at your feet. You take a step out of them, in a haze, the action bringing you closer to Nico. He steadies you by placing his hands on your hips. His fingertips graze the matching black lace panties you paired with your bra. He smirks into the kiss at the thought of you planning it out.

Nico takes small steps, notifying you to do the same but backward, and guides you to the small light wooden desk against the wall opposite of the bed. The back of your thighs hit the desk and with a swift motion, Nico grabs you at the waist and sets you to sit on top of it. A quick gasp escapes your naturally pouty lips and with that, Nico gets on his knees.

Timo snaps you out of that thought fairly quickly, “Well hello, long time no see!”

He’s being sarcastic, but you waste no time to get to the point.

“I was told Nellie was going to be here. She knows about this?”

Timo nods, acknowledging your words, and replies, “It’s not like how it was during the election. The isolation of the White House bonded them, their marriage is as strong as ever.”

Before you can react to Timos statement, Nellie comes barging into the room.

“Y/N!”

You fake a smile, deep down you could never hate Nellie. No matter how hard you try. “Nellie, hi! How are you doing?!” Faking your enthusiastic response, you can’t help but feel guilty. It wasn’t hard to read Nellie, so you could tell she missed your presence around in the White House. Once Nellie reaches you she engulfs you in a heartwarming hug. She rubs your back and soaks in the moment, reminiscing an old friendship.

You’re the first to step away and once you create a small fragment of distance, Nellie answers your question.

“I’m doing well! It’s taking some time getting used to you not being here but I’m managing. How’s the firm?”

“We’re doing well over there. It’s been busy but I like being occupied…can never get enough of it.” You chuckle at the tiny comment you make and Nellie goes to carry the conversation but comes to a halt when the double doors to Timo’s office open once again.

You told yourself, on the drive over to the White House, that you would keep things strictly professional but Nico always managed to make that very hard. Not only that, you still deeply cared for the man and he did the same as well. But the moment you saw his face everything you had prepared yourself for had expeditiously faded away. You can’t even process the moment, that he’s here and physically in front of you until he’s shaking your hand.

The last time you saw Nico was at a charity gala in late June. Five months after you left. You only managed to stay for an hour until everything felt overwhelming. Your chest felt like it was being compressed by an unseen entity, and bile was rising in your throat. Nico had tried his best to talk to you but with Nellie by his side and her pregnancy rumors, he couldn’t. It broke his heart when he saw the tears in your eyes. You’d felt betrayed but also knew that being the President’s mistress meant that you never came first. Even if he lied to you and said that you did.

“Y/N, It’s good to see you.” He’s keeping it simple. He can’t show too much vulnerability, there are still two people in the room.

“Likewise, Mr. President.” You drop your hand first from the handshake and look closely at Nico. He shaved two days ago, you can tell by the stubble sitting on the lower half of his face. It has just grown enough to the point where if he could get on his knees in front of you, you’d feel it scratch your inner thighs.

“Shall we take a walk?” Timo kindly suggests.

The three of you decide to chat in Jacqueline Kennedy Garden. With the company of two secret service members but you don’t mind.

It may be January but the pansies are still in season. You walk up and admire the some that are purple. You notice that in the outer part of the petal, they’re royal purple, but towards the center, they’re light purple - almost a lilac color. That would be a nice color for a wedding. You’re too busy admiring the flowers that don’t notice the sound of footsteps approaching until the person has already reached you. It’s Nico. You don’t even need to look to know it’s him. He clears his throat before starting the conversation with you.

“I know you have your hands full with the Sully St. James situation so, thank you for doing this, for me.” He turns to look at you. God you’ve missed him.

Timo walks up behind you and the president, the two secret service agents aren’t too far behind. He pulls out a beige file folder and speaks.

“Her name is Vanessa Wyatt.” You take hold of the folder and open it up.

“I know.”

“Well if you let me finish- anyways, she’s 25. I’ve heard rumors that she might be talking.” Timo states and looks off into the distance. It’s nice and sunny outside, but not even for it to take the edge off the cold. You take a look at what she looks like. She must be new, or at least got hired after you resigned. She’s cute but looking at her makes you feel nauseated. You push that feeling aside, it’s best at what you do.

“But you can’t fire her. At least not without a shit show going off.” Both Timo and Nico nod. Nico has yet to say anything. You find it odd but push that thought aside. You know Nico wouldn’t do this.

“Look, she hasn’t gone to the press, so best shut it down before she opens her mouth.” Timo’s phone rings and he excuses himself to take the call. It’s just you and Nico. A part of you doesn’t want to ask him the long-awaited question but you still do it anyways.

“I have to ask, did you do it?” You look up at him for the first time after reaching the garden. All you see are his eyes, they’re identical to the color of the way he takes his coffee.

“No. I would never do that.” Nico pauses but doesn’t break the eye contact. You’re starting to feel light-headed. Your heart wants to believe him but there’s someone in your ear screaming that he isn’t telling the truth.

“You’ve known me for a long time. Most of my time has been spent with you. You know I would never, ever fall for some girl. You know there’s only one girl I truly love.” He accentuates the last sentence. Only you know he’s talking about you. It’s a secret embedded between the two of you. You feel warm, not the bad kind, but the warm and comfy kind. He knows you need reassurance, he knows you think he’s lying, and he knows that if he did do it, it would be unforgivable. It feels like time is passing by slowly, you’re lost in his pools of melted chocolate-like irises. He never once, looked away. He’s telling the truth.

“We’re due to be back now!” Looking back, you see Timo. He’s about 15 feet away, but he’s walking towards both Nico and you.

“I’ll handle it. Consider it handled.” You look away. A burning sensation hits the back of your eye sockets. You feel like crying but you won’t let the tears fall.

Once Timo reaches you he wraps his arms around you and the President’s shoulders.

“The band is back together!”

One hour. One hour is how much time you had given Gwen to find anything and everything about Vanessa Wyatt and boy did she find something.

Gwen walks beside you, to your left. The pace you’ve set is fast, it wasn’t like you had all day. You had a firm to run and a man’s destiny in your hands. Vanessa Wyatt was just a fork in the road. You had a plan and with enough convincing, she’d end up on a bus to Wisconsin in the morning.

“You’re acting as my witness. Just shut up and listen to what I say. Do not engage with her.” Both you and Gwen had been following Vanessa around Easy Potomac Park for approximately seven minutes. You took immediate notice that she was accompanied by her dog, a golden retriever. Gwen had whispered something about it being adorable, to you it was an amazing conversation starter, a way to get in, and a vulnerability point for Vanessa.

Vanessa’s quick to take a seat on a bench, overlooking the Potomac River. You waste no time to walk up to her and Gwen follows suit. “What a cute dog! Golden Retriever?”

Vanessa takes the bait like a fish dumb enough to take a worm that’s on a fish hook. You’ve already got her right where you want her and you’ve only spoken six words.

“Yeah haha! His name is Thomas Jefferson, like the President, it’s lame I know! But it suits him surprisingly.” The thought of how naive she is crosses your mind. Was she like that with Nico? You take a seat next to her before carrying on the conversation.

“Vanessa, it would be a mistake to think that there will be no consequences to you telling lies about the President.” Her face falls almost immediately. Gwen gives you a look. Almost like she was surprised herself, she was least expecting you to mention the so-called “affair” this early on in the conversation. To your dismay, Vanessa doesn’t make an effort to start running away yet. Stupid girl. Rather instead she questions you.

“I never told you my name. Who are you?” She finally turns to get a good look at you. Vanessa notices the pale, off-white pantsuit that’s on your body. It fits you to a tee.

“My name is Y/N.” You pause for a brief moment then continue your lecture to the younger girl, “And I want to make it clear that I’m not here in an official capacity. I’m here because I’m a

concerned citizen.” Vanessa looks away, tears threatening to fall on her plump, pinky cheeks. She isn’t wearing anything to keep her warm besides a thin coat.

She mutters another question. “What do you want?”

Your response leaves your mouth rapidly. “I came to warn you. A girl like you can’t win something like this. In, employment your face will be everywhere. And by everywhere I mean tabloids, newspapers, social media, local news. People are going to associate you with a sex scandal. All kinds of information about you will become available to the press in a heartbeat. For example, the 22 sexual partners you’ve had? What about that case of gonorrhea? Oh and let’s not forget your mothers two year stay at Bedford Hospital.” Everything you say comes out nonchalantly. You pause and take a look at the younger brunette, waiting for a response but she says nothing. You take it as a sign to continue.

“That’s what I thought. It’s information like that, that could ruin everything for you.” Both you and Gwen take notice of Vanessa. The tears that were threatening to fall, are now halfway down her cheeks. Gwen’s heart breaks for the girl but deep down knows it’s for the best. You, however, could care less. Situations like this, never end up good for the woman involved.

“He said he loved me. He gave me this dog.” Vanessa manages to utter while shaking her head. Her world feels like it’s falling apart and you stand at the altar watching it happen.

“You see, it’s lies like those that could hurt you when said to other people. People not as nice as me. Here let me give you some advice, hand in your resignation, pack a bag and your dog, get out of this town, maybe in Wisconsin, and start over. Never look back.”

You’ve managed to move closer to Vanessa. It’s not a lot but you’re still testing the waters. If you were to ask Gwen, she’s still surprised that Vanessa’s still sitting there. Personally, Gwen would have fled a long time ago. The younger brunette to your right, takes a deep sigh and begs, “Why are you doing this to me?” I’m a good person!” You get the urge to laugh in her face. It doesn’t matter if you’re nice or not, people love to ruin people. She should’ve known this by now. A girl this naive should not be in a town like this.

“You want to know who was also a good person?” You question her and continue, “Monica Lewinsky. And she was telling the truth. But she still got destroyed.” You say it casually and Vanessa doesn’t appreciate it, in the next millisecond, she grabs her dog’s leash and hurries away. Gwen is still standing, she’s shocked, to say the least.

Turning to Gwen, you start to state, “If you get subpoenaed in front of a grand jury, you can testify as an officer of the court that I was working on my own. I didn’t blackmail or threaten her. If you don’t get subpoenaed, then this never happened.” You walk in the other direction from Vanessa. Gwen takes a moment to follow suit and once you hear Gwen’s footsteps, you take your cell phone out of your coat pocket to dial.

“It’s handled.”

You are typing away on your keyboard, answering some emails when the doors to your office fly open. It’s Blair and she’s rushing in. You can tell her her brain is going 100 miles per hour when she cheers, “Paige is a whore! She’s a whore!” You shake your head and smile in return, expecting her to say more, and that she does.

“I had Kurt hack into her message log and she had HUNDREDS and I mean HUNDREDS of text messages with this guy named Tom Henderson. And I know what you’re going to say ‘Go interview him then’ We’ll that’s what I did while you were gone doing god knows what!” She’s starting to get off track but you don’t mind. Blair was a chatterbox at heart.

“Good news is that Tom spilled his guts the minute I went to ask questions, but he has an air-tight alibi. He was working as a bouncer at a club at the time of the murder. There has got to be like 100 witnesses.” You nod your head and before you can tell Blair anything she continues, again.

“Oh my god! How could I forget?! Henderson claims that Sully knew that he was sleeping with his girlfriend.” With that, you waste no time to get out of your chair, and before you can even take a step Neil comes strutting into the room.

“Even worse news, the gun found in the murder has Sully’s fingerprints all over it. It gives him means.” A small “fuck!” leaves your mouth and you dash towards the double doors that connect your office and another. Pushing open the door, you waste no time to start interrogating Sully.

“Did you know Paige was sleeping with Tom Henderson?!” You point your finger at him like a mom scolding her child. Sully replies stupidly, “What?”

“Did. You. Know?” Accentuating every word in the question causes Sully to get irritated.

“I hired you! You can’t come in here and talk-” Sully’s cut off by Neil almost immediately. You let him overpower the situation by walking away. Your mind is running, trying to think what the possibilities could be.

“Yes, she can! She can do whatever the hell she wants! Without her, you would be in jail right now!” Things are starting to escalate quickly between you three. Blair is just observing what’s happening. You decided to ask one more time even though you hate repeating yourself.

“Did you know Paige was sleeping with Tom?” The tone that you ask him is softer, things are starting to get real and if you don’t get to the bottom of this, Sully could be going to jail for 20 years to life.

Sully answers your question, “Yes, but I didn’t kill her!” Your mind shuts everything out once he answers your question. Neil and Blair start conducting a plan that you have no care for right now. Deciding to walk away from all the chaos, you manage to bump into the one person you least expect. Vanessa, with Gwen following behind.

“Oh, what the hell!”

“I want you to give him a message!” You stare Gwen down, scolding her with your eyes for even letting Vanessa in, in the first place.

“That is not appropriate.” You take ahold of Vanessa’s upper left bicep, Gwen the other, and quickly guide her out of the firm. She tries to go with a fight but your grip doesn’t let her escape. You open the front door to the firm, giving Vanessa access to leave but she makes it clear that you hear what she has to say. “Not appropriate? You came to me and I know he sent you! I know you can give him a message! I’m telling the truth! I am!”

“This conversation is over. Please leave.”

You’re barely coming down with your high from the previous chaos when David Rosen, the US attorney general walks into your building.

“Times up, Y/N. I have a warrant.” He’s holding up white papers, stapled together. He’s here to take Sully into custody but luckily for you, David arrived earlier than expected.

“I still have 40 minutes.” You bark at David, taking a look at your watch. Turning your back to him, you reach the conference doors.

“You can wait in the lobby by all means.” You suggest to David. Maybe he’ll listen to you once and for all.

“Fine, but in 40 minutes I want Sully St. James in custody.” He huffs out.

Meanwhile, you try to find Gwen. Once you see her in the conference room you have her call Blair, to let her know that you’ve officially been invaded and time is running out to find Sully a viable alibi.

Blair, Neil, and Kurt walk through the front doors exactly 7 minutes before David is supposed to be arrested. Blair comes in hot, Neil and Kurt trailing behind her. She’s holding a flash drive and gives you a rundown of what that flash drive material contains. You take no longer than 3 seconds to head your way to the conference room where Sully St. James is currently seated. You tread the water lightly, not wanting to anger him when approaching the situation.

“We don’t have much time, Sully,” you start with, “the police are here so I need you to listen.” Blair, Kurt, Neil, and Gwen slowly enter the room with you. Most of the time, when debriefing with a client, there’s always someone else with you. In this case, all of them.

“We were able to verify your alibi.” Sully’s reaction doesn’t surprise you. Confusion shadows over his face. Almost like he didn’t even know how or who verified his alibi.

“You were?” He looks around the room after he questions you. All eyes are on him and everyone can tell that he’s realizing that his secret is no secret anymore. You nod in response to his question.

“That’s.. that’s a good thing, right?” He’s playing dumb and you’re catching along. You open your mouth to start a lecture.

“Sully, you’re the most decorated hero since the Vietnam War, you come from a family of well-respected soldiers, you make your living giving speeches for the conservative right, and you’ve said over and over, that Paige was your best friend. Not your lover.” Your eyes never leave him during the duration of your speech, but when they do you signal Blair to turn on the TV and plug the flash drive into it. Once she does, a video starts to play. It’s from a security camera at an ATM, that so happened to be next to the bar Sully had been seen at before the murder. In the video, Sully St. James is seen standing on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, pacing. He’s waiting for someone. Just on cue, a man in his mid to late 20s is seen approaching Sully. Once he gets his hands on Sully, he kisses him with passion. Almost like lovers who are reuniting for the first time after months of being apart. The room is silent up until the video shows the two grown men kissing. Sully’s breath starts to pick up, he’s infuriated.

“Paige knew, didn’t she?” You already knew the answer to that but still needed the clarification. You were never one to go based on assumptions. Sully doesn’t respond so you continue, “She knew you were gay, the two of you had a deal.” Sully speaks up for the first time in 3 minutes.

“You can’t show anyone that.” Disregarding what he said, you ask, “I need the name of the man that you were kissing.”

“Over my dead body! I serve my country. I honor the uniform! I am a conservative man. Everything I stand for is anti-gay. I am the deacon of my church! They’re talking about me running for Congress one day. I’m a hero. I can’t be gay.” His demeanor starts off hostile but then shuts down and he manages to whisper the last remark.

“But you are. This is who you are.” You point to the TV which had been paused at a time frame where Sully and his secret lover were engaged in a kiss. “This is your alibi. Let us help you.” You walk over to the couch that Sully is seated at and crouch next to him. You and Sully are the only two who have spoken a word so far. Everyone else is watching the scene unfold in front of their eyes.

Sully stands up straight and looks ahead of him. With one small word, he answers you.

“No.” You stand, but before you can mutter a word he turns around and heads out the conference room doors. You don’t pay attention as to whether everyone follows you but you follow Sully out. Demanding him to wait but to no avail, he doesn’t listen. Once he opens the firm’s front doors, he is met with David Rosen.

The bright ceiling lights are the cause of the forming headache across your temples. To say that everything that happened in the past 28 hours is ridiculous would be an understatement. Neil and Blair are at the police station with you. By the time Sully St. James had his mugshot taken, you got a text message from Gwen. You managed to mutter an ‘I have to go’ and frantically left. Having left instructions for Neil and Blair just in case anything happened with Sully.

Being told, by Gwen, that Vanessa Wyatt was in the hospital and she was going to see her was just the cherry on top. You wasted no time to get there as fast as you could. It was 7 pm by the time you entered the hospital door, exhaustion hitting you like a ton of bricks. Getting into bed sounds much better than having sex.

Gwen is standing outside of Vanessa’s hospital room when you get there. You greet her then immediately ask, “What happened?” You take a look at Gwen and she genuinely seems worried for the girl who’s in the hospital bed, clearly sedated.

Gwen explains, “She slashed her wrists. There’s no press lurking around but one of the nurses told me her dad’s flying in from Michigan.”

You double-check with Gwen, just to make sure that there is no possible threat. “No nurses or doctors, about anything?” Gwen shakes her head, her ponytail moving along with her head, and responds shortly.

“Just to me.”

“Good stay with her.” You turn to leave, regretting to have even come in the first place. A simple phone call would have been fine. Before you take a step Gwen takes ahold of your upper arm and blurted your name.

“Y/N! You told me to trust my gut when I first got hired, and now my gut is telling me that she is telling the truth-” You cut off Gwen to share what you think.

“She’s not.” You keep it short and sweet. Nico told you that he didn’t do it and you believe him. Your heart believes him. He said he loved you and you were the only girl he’s ever loved.

“I know the President, Gwen. He wouldn’t do this.” You’re starting to become stern since Gwen is being persistent about something that could never, ever possibly be true.

“I just find it weird that she was going on and on about how there’s this secret room off the Oval Office where they’ve met, and I’ve read about the White House. There is a little room.”

You waste no time to state the obvious. “If you read it, she read it. People are crazy Gwen. They love to get fixated on famous people and stalk them.”

“But I don’t think she’s crazy.” If you didn’t have any love for Gwen you probably would’ve smacked her for continuing to run her mouth. Since you do care for her deeply, you demand her to tell you why she thinks that. “Why?”

“Okay, she tried to take her life but she didn’t want to die. She called you right after she did it because she wanted him to find out she was hurt and come see her. She thought he would do that.” Gwen rambles everything out in one go as if she’s already rehearsed this conversation in her head.

“Gwen-”

“She was going on and on about how she thought he’d come to see her and call her some stupid little German word.” You start to doze off but your ears perk up like a dog that hears a siren from a mile away when she mentions the word German.

“What?”

Gwen’s face scrunches up and tilts her head to the side at your remark. She’s questioning you and doesn’t even need to open her mouth.

“Repeat yourself.” You try to tell yourself that you heard something completely different. How pathetic.

“Oh! He’d call her a German word, she said it means treasure or something. Why does it ma-” You cancel out the rest of Gwen’s sentence and scurry away. Your legs start working independently and lead you down the hospital corridor. Gwen calls out your name in response, but you pay no mind to it. The pit in your stomach is probably the size of a football and it doesn’t help that bile is rising in your throat and everything feels hazy. Betrayal wasn’t something new to you but coming from someone who expected the same loyalty from you was gutwrenching.

Sometimes you think it’s crazy how much authority you still have in the White House because you simply do not work there anymore. Nonetheless, it comes in handy, in instances like these. Rose, the President’s Secretary, leads you the way into the Oval Office in a matter of seconds. It didn’t take much convincing, just a quick “It’s an emergency”. Once Rose opens the first of 3 doors that connect the Oval Office to the White House, you step inside. Walking up to the set of couches that sit in the middle of the room, to set your purse down, you notice Nico isn’t at his desk. Matter of fact he isn’t anywhere in the room. With that, you question Rose about Nico’s whereabouts.

“Where is he?” You expect her to go into detail, whether it’s a meeting or at dinner with Nellie. But Rose never does. Instead, she gives a simple answer.

“It’ll just be a moment.” With that, Rose walks out and shuts the door behind her.

It doesn’t take long for Nico to come walking through the door, Timo trailing right behind, but when he does, you notice his attire. He’s wearing a bowtie. Which only means he has something important going on.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Disregarding his question, you plea to him with your eyes. He notices the quiver of your lip and how tears threaten to leave your eyes. Nico senses something is up.

“We’re gonna need the room, please.” He demands Timo. Nico’s eyes never leave yours. Almost as if there is a magnetic pull to the two of you. Timo stands there dumbfoundedly and questions the President.

“But, Nico you have to give that toast to the President of Mexico in 10 minutes. Maybe this could wait until after?” Nico’s eyes finally leave yours. He turns to Timo and repeats himself.

“I said we need the room,” Nico demands almost instantly. That being so, Timo lowers his head, and his hand reaches to the door handle so he can close the door behind him. Once Nico hears the click of the door shutting fully closed he whispers your name. You take no time to finally repeat the word you know Gwen was talking about.

“Schatzli, huh?” The word rolls off your tongue as if it’s venom. It makes you want to curl up into a ball and never be seen again. Nico turns to you and you repeat the word of endorsement like it’s a chant. You’re angry and Nico knows it. With that, Nico points up ahead. There sits a security camera that overlooks the majority of the room. Watching your every move. Nico knows he can’t have a conversation about Vanessa knowing he’s being recorded. Good thing he was a smart man. During the first week after his inauguration, he managed to find out that the camera doesn’t record past his desk. So the pair of you had rendezvous against the large crystalline window that overlooks Nellie’s garden and a patio. Countless times.

Nico guides you to stand in front of the window with a simple, “Come here.” To that, you obey. As to why? You don’t even know the answer to that considering all you see is rage. You reach him, keeping your distance but still out of the security camera’s view. Disgust and humiliation still sits on your face, never intended to leave soon.

Nico is the first to speak amongst you two. “You left me.” He can’t even look you in the eye when he finally admits the truth. A man who lies is always a coward.

“Because you are married! You said you wanted to dedicate yourself to your marriage! I wanted you to be a better man and be the man that I campaigned for-” Nico cuts you off by slowly taking steps towards you. You don’t need to be a genius to know what he’s doing.

“Do not touch me.” You planned for it to come out stern but ended up sounding like a hurt duckling. But that you were. The look in Nico’s eye confirms that he was not listening to you. Instead of him pleading for you to hear him out, he steps even closer. Once he reaches you, his hands rest upon your hips. His body aching to make contact with yours. Your body is pressed up against the large window with another step. Nico’s eyes stare down at you, faces only mere inches apart. The pair of you already know where the next thing leads to but you’re not letting him go that easily.

Before his lips can make contact with yours, you push at his chest to get him off of you. Putting all force you can conjure into the shove. You turn around and before you can think your right hand makes contact with his left cheek with a hard smack!

“I believed you! You clouded my judgment! I wanted to believe you because I love you and THIS is what you do to me? She tried to kill herself! Did you know she’s lying in a hospital bed because she slashed her wrists open? I destroyed that girl-” Everything happens too fast and you can’t even see through the tears that started falling just moments ago. Nico finally dared to walk up to you and kiss you. His right hand has ahold of the back of your neck. While the other is on your upper arm, keeping you in place. It takes less than a second for you to come to terms with what’s happening. As mad as you are at Nico, you couldn’t help but feel the need to return the kiss. Your internal dialogue screams at you to stop. To step away and never talk to him again.

The kiss is slow and passionate, Nico doesn’t want to rush into anything further because he knows you won’t hesitate to take a step back and slap him again. You had the balls no one ever did. Before Nico can gain access to your mouth with his tongue, one of the doors is swung open.

“I just want to let you know that we can hear you yelling.” By the time Timo shuts the door, Nico and you have created a small fragment of distance away from each other. The satin pinky nude lipstick you wore, transferred onto Nico’s lips. Your hair is a bit disheveled and the pair of you are out of breath. Timo was a smart man so it didn’t take much for him to recognize what was happening behind closed doors. Timo clears his throat before he speaks.

“Mr. President, I recommended you go wash up.” Timo puts his hands in his pockets and refuses to look you in the eye.

“Timo-”

“No. You have lipstick on your mouth. You have a toast to give. Go. Now.” With that, Nico obeys and leaves the room, not even looking back towards you. Timo and you bask in a moment of silence. You stand there like a doe who has yet to learn how to walk. The feeling of embarrassment is an understatement to say at least. In times like these, where Timo puts his foot down, it makes you feel like a child being scolded for writing on the wall with markers.

Timo walks up to the President’s desk and admires the picture he has of the three of you. It was the day of Nico’s inauguration, the picture was taken right after Nico’s speech. Timo wishes things could go back to the way they were.

“Oh mein gott,” Timo mutters under his breath. After the past two years of knowing Timo, you’d expect that he knew about the affair.

“You didn’t know? He tells you everything.” You scoff. Nico and Timo are close. Like brothers, who manage to piss each other off all day every day but that doesn’t get in the way of Nico telling Timo every personal detail that goes on in his life.

“He didn’t tell me this.” He shakes his head and looks down at his feet.

You wipe a tear that cascades down your left cheek and quickly mutter, “Because it didn’t matter.” In disbelief, you walk towards the couch, reaching for your purse. Feeling the sudden need to get out of the one place you do not wish to be at. Timo tries to grab at your wrist, tries to talk you into staying but you’re too fast enough for him to get a good grip. Once you reach the door, you adjust your purse and push the straps up against your shoulder blade. You take a deep breath, fighting the urge to stay. Alas, your right hand makes contact with the gold door knob and you twist and push the door open. With every last bit of courage you have, you step out of the Oval Office with your head up high. You’ve got a man to get out of jail.

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier fanfic #nico hischier x oc #nico hischier smut #nh13 #new jersey devils #ebs writes things!

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hqbaby · 8 months ago

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eighteen — just wanted you know to know

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2.4k content. profanity, everyone’s bad with feelings

Satoru was having a lovely day. Although “lovely” would be a relative term considering the fact that finals season has descended upon the general student population and he is one of its many victims. Still, he woke up on the right side of the bed, he managed to find some clean clothes, and the barista at the coffee shop down the road wasn’t as mean to him as he usually is.

Overall, his day had gone fairly well. As he walked over to the library, he didn’t dread finishing the mountain of papers he had to write or the problem sets he had to review. He even texted Suguru to come join him in his study session so that they could compare notes—something he usually steers clear from because the man always distracts him.

Overall, Satoru was having a lovely day.

Until that asshole showed up.

There he goes, with his usual lazy smirk, walking over to a table with his friend. They’re chatting—about something shitty, Satoru suspects—and laying their books out on the surface, pulling laptops and notes out of their bags. Satoru wonders what would happen if he just walked over, grabbed the guy and—

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Satoru looks down at his hand where a pencil has already snapped in half. You should really just get a mechanical one, your voice echoes in the back of his mind, the hint of a laugh bubbling beneath your words.

“Satoru.”

He looks up.

Shoko.

“Hey,” he says, flashing her that grin of his. As if he wasn’t just trying to stare your boyfriend to death. “What’s up? Wanna join me?”

The girl rolls her eyes, obviously seeing through his nonsense. “Why are you looking at that guy?” she asks, glancing over at the table where Sukuna is gesturing frantically as he explains something to Choso. “You into him or something?”

Satoru scowls. “That guy is dirt,” he says. “Worse than dirt actually. He’s the scourge of the earth.”

Shoko watches him with an amused look as he directs his attention at Sukuna, sending daggers at the guy that he obviously can’t feel at all. She’s known Satoru for a while, since they were freshmen. He’s usually the kind of guy who tries to be nice to everyone. He calls it being a nice person. She calls it being a people-pleaser.

She doesn’t think she’s ever seen him look at anyone the way he looks at Sukuna. He usually hides his disdain until the other person is out of his general vicinity. So this, him looking at the poor guy like he wants his whole family dead, is both ridiculous and completely strange.

“What did he do?” she asks, sitting down at the table. She takes a sip of her coffee as Satoru wills himself to rip his gaze away from Sukuna. When she realizes it might take a while, she busies herself by digging through her bag to grab the things she needs to study. “Did he steal your girlfriend or something?”

The silence that her question meets leaves Shoko curious, glancing up at Satoru as he turns away looking a little defeated.

“Oh shit,” she says. “Really? That’s why you broke up?”

“No,” Satoru tells her. He groans, slumping onto the table. “I don’t know, okay? All I know is that one moment she’s breaking up with me, the next she’s with that guy.”

Shoko looks back at Sukuna, waiting until she finally recognizes the man. Her eyes widen. She didn’t know who he was before, but now she definitely does.

“That’s the best friend!” she whispers to Satoru like it’s some big secret. “He’s the one you told us about!”

Satoru sticks his tongue out. “Yeah. Duh.”

She swats his shoulder. “Don’t be a fucking brat,” she says. “I can’t believe she jumped ship like that. What a bitch.”

“Don’t call her that.”

“Well, I’m a bitch, so I know when someone else is being a bitch.”

“Shoko.”

She raises her hands in apology. “Fine, fine. Sorry,” she says. She takes one more look at Sukuna then sighs. “You know, at least you’re free of all that now. You and Kimi seem great.”

That seems to cheer him up.

“We do, don’t we?” he says, beaming. “She’s just the best, you know. Lights up every room she walks into.”

Shoko curses herself as Satoru launches into a whole spiel about how great and wonderful Kimi is. She knows that she brought this on, she knows that the best way to distract her friend from his melancholy thoughts of you is to get him to talk about his new girlfriend, but fuck does it make him annoying.

“She does this little thing when we kiss, where she takes her hand and she—”

“Holy shit, please stop!” Shoko says. “I don’t wanna know about that!”

Satoru smirks. He knows just how much this annoys Shoko. It’s half the fun.

“She grabs my butt.”

He gets a well-earned smack on the arm.

“Hey, why are you starting the violence without me?” Suguru slides into the chair beside Satoru, beaming at Shoko as she glares at him. “What did he do?”

“He was being annoying,” she tells him, slouching in her seat. “I brought up his girlfriend once and off he goes on a whole tangent. ‘Oh, Shoko, you should see her eyes! You should smell her hair!’”

Satoru shrugs. “Not my fault you’re painfully single.”

“I’m pre-med, I don’t have the time,” she says like she always does. “I’d also like to point out that you fall in love way too easily. It’s gross.”

“I do not!” he gasps. “I’m very careful with my heart, you know.”

“Nah, I have to agree with Shoko on this,” Suguru chimes in, oh-so-helpfully

“You have to agree? You don’t have to do anything!”

He pats Satoru on the back. “Why don’t we just study like you said we would?” he says. “Take your mind off your fickle heart.”

“I’m gonna throw you into a dumpster,” Satoru says, glaring.

“After my finals, buddy. After my finals.”

It takes a while, but they do manage to get Satoru back on track and start working on his papers.

At a table a few feet away from them, Sukuna is trying to focus too. And failing miserably of course.

“Shut up,” Choso says without even looking up from his laptop.

“I haven’t even said anything.”

“But you were going to.”

Choso sighs. “Dude, I swear I’m gonna leave if you don’t let me focus.”

Sukuna pouts, trying his best to put on the best whole “woe is me” performance of his life. “But I have something really important to ask.”

“I have something really important to study for.”

“You don’t want me to fail, do you?” Sukuna asks. “If I don’t get this off my chest, I may just flunk out of here.”

“Okay,” Choso nods. He waves at Sukuna. “Bye, dude. It was nice having you here.”

“Choso!”

“Seriously, man! We can talk all you want after we die from our exams, okay?”

“Fine,” Sukuna says, clearly not fine at all. He gets up and grabs his belt bag. “I’m gonna go take a smoke.”

Choso raises his brow. “I thought you quit.”

“Yeah, well, I’m stressed,” is all Sukuna says before he marches out of the library, completely unaware of the fact that he’s just walked past your ex-boyfriend who has not only noticed him but decided—against his friend’s wishes—to follow him outside.

Technically, no one is allowed to smoke around these parts of campus. But technicalities haven’t seemed to stop the group of distressed students camped out behind the library, heads in their hands as they all ignore each other and take their misery out on the ozone layer.

Sukuna leans against the brick wall, fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his bag. He’s just about to light it when someone scoffs at him. Now what piece of shit would do that?

“She hates those, you know.”

Oh, that piece of shit. Of course.

“What do you want?” Sukuna says, his voice as cold as steel as he meets Satoru’s eye. He lets the cigarette dangle from his fingers. Yeah, you wouldn’t like this at all. “Come to beat me up? Your little girlfriend not around to stop you?”

Satoru doesn’t budge, just continues to stare him down. “Have you told her?”

“Told her what?” your boyfriend spits. “That you’re a creep who can’t seem to get out of his ex’s life?”

“If you don’t, I will,” Satoru tells him. He runs a hand through his hair and crosses his arms over his chest. What is he doing? He knows that Sukuna’s right. That he should just let you live your life. Make the mistakes you want to make. It’s not like you didn’t cause them.

But he can’t do that. He could never do that to you.

“Listen, I don’t know why she chose you,” he says, the venom dripping from his tongue. “But the least you can do is not treat her like shit.”

Sukuna rolls his eyes. He lets the cigarette drop to the ground. “How do you know how I treat her?” he asks. “This is getting pathetic, man. You have a girlfriend, don’t you? Why don’t you just move on like any other sane person would.”

“You fucking ass—”

“She doesn’t want you,” Sukuna whispers. His voice is low and threatening. Any other man would be scared shitless.

But not Satoru.

His lips curl into a smirk. All smug and cold and heartless. “She misses me, you know?”

Sukuna sneers. “Oh, yeah? Who told you that? Your fucking delusion brain?”

“No. She did,” Satoru says simply. “I ran into her a few weeks back and she told me.”

“Oh, please.” Sukuna tries to maintain the stoic facade he’s put up, but that bugs him. Did you really tell him that? Why? “You’re insane.”

He pushes past your ex and heads back into the library.

When he plops back into his chair, Choso shoots him a confused look, but he just ignores it, turning back to his notes. He tries his best to read through his scribbles about something, but he can’t help his mind from drifting to you.

He knows he should tell you about the party. It’s not like the two of you were actually together yet, and you did tell him you didn’t mind if he kept fucking seeing other girls. You’re not vindictive. You’d be just fine with it—all he has to do is tell you.

He reaches for his phone and stops short of calling you.

You wouldn’t care. You would be fine. The two of you would be fine.

But would you? Things between you are so new. So fragile. You’ve barely just crossed the line between friends and an actual proper adult relationship. Everything is still hanging in the balance. Sukuna knows that one wrong move could wreck it all. He just doesn’t know what that move is.

And then there’s Satoru.

“She misses me, you know?”

What would possess that man to say something like that, Sukuna will never know. Maybe he’s just jealous. Maybe he’s just trying to get in Sukuna’s head. Maybe he just wants to mess with your relationship so that you come running back to him.

But maybe he’s right.

You wake to the feeling of your phone buzzing somewhere on the floor of your living room. It’s the middle of the day, but you, Maki, and Nobara have managed to pass out in the middle of your studying. Figures. If you had the choice between sleep and school, you definitely know what the three of you would pick.

You lift your head and pat the space around you until it finds your phone. Your eyebrows furrow when you see the contact name on the screen. You answer.

“‘Kuna?” you say, voice a little hoarse from sleep. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah!” he answers immediately. “I just wanted—were you sleeping?”

You chuckle, placing a hand on your forehead as you rest your head back on the floor. “Yeah, we needed a break,” you tell him. “Why are you calling?”

The other line is silent for a moment. You can already picture the way he looks right now, rubbing his thumb over his lower lip as he considers his words carefully.

“Sukuna, what is it?”

You hear him exhale. “Nothing,” he tells you. “I just wanted to let you know that I miss you.”

“We saw each other yesterday,” you say teasingly. You wish you could leave the conversation there, but you know there must be some other reason why he’s decided to call you out of nowhere. You know Sukuna. You know that there’s something going on. “What did you really call me about though?”

“Nothing,” he says again. You can tell that he knows he’s not convincing you. “I just thought… you remember when we snuck into that reservoir?”

You groan at the memory. The two of you were stupid back then, trying to escape the realities that you lived in. But you have to admit it was fun.

“Of course I do,” you tell him. “You called me just to remind me of that?”

He laughs, the memory apparently just as fun for him as it was for you. “That was when I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“You’re really gonna make me say it?”

You frown. “Sukuna, what are you talking about?”

You hear him sigh. Hear him ruffle something. Probably his hair. “That’s when I knew that I loved you,” he tells you softly.

You nearly drop the phone. “Oh.”

“You don’t have to say it,” he says. “I just thought you should know.”

Now, it’s your turn to be all jumpy. This is just like Sukuna to drop something on you like that. To drop the fact that he loves you, just like that. The fact that he’s apparently loved you for a while now.

“I love you too.”

The words hang in the air for a while. You’ve told him you loved him before, but that was always different. Always spoken beneath the cover of your friendship. Never something that meant anything important.

But is it really different this time?

You try to keep the thought out of your mind.

“‘Kuna? You there?”

“I’m here.”

You clear your throat. “Is that really why you called?”

“Yeah…” he says. “I just—yeah. I just wanted you to know that I love you.”

notes. me while writing this: *just sweats profusely*

#hqbaby.miu #hqbaby #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo #gojo x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader

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spiicii · 3 months ago

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jimmy uso / nsfw alphabet

x fem!reader word count → 2.6k links → masterlist summary → after writing for jey i had to try to write jimmy too, my second shot at writing (be nice), lots of smut and dirty talk beneath the cut, read at your own risk

A = Aftercare

The second you use your safeword, he immediately drops whatever cocky attitude he had and will become the sweetest man ever. He’s making sure you’re drinking water and using the bathroom after every session with him, even if he has to carry you. He’s gentle as he takes care of you, a stark contrast from how roughly he’d been fucking into you. His words are soft, whispering sweet praises in your ear as he lays you back down in the bed to sleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite part of himself would probably be his tattoos. He's proud of his heritage and what the tattoos represent. He likes it when you trace the ink on his neck with your fingers, peppering kisses behind his ear as you admire them.

For you, he's obsessed with your ass. How it jiggles, how he can grab it, how it looks in shorts, all of it. He doesn’t give a shit who’s around or what’s going on, he’s always trying to cop a feel, reaching around you to grab a cheek and squeeze. The first time he saw you dance, your ass bouncing in time with the music, he’d sat back in his chair, trying his best not to stare but failing miserably, seemingly hypnotized by how it moved and jiggled. Oh yeah, obsessed is an understatement.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

If you let him, he’s cumming inside you every time. Once he’s done, he’ll grab your ankles and open your legs to watch his cum drip out of you. He won’t let it get far though, reaching out and pushing it back into you, watching with a smirk as your body twitches from overstimulation.

Nah, you’re getting stuffed full of my cum tonight, girl. Don’t want to waste a single drop.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s pretty shameless and isn’t really embarrassed by much. Stealing your panties to jerk off to later? He’s making jokes about how he needs to buy you more. You want to tie him up and tease him? He’s smirking at you in amusement, still somehow in control even though his thighs are shaking. He’s caught fucking you on the bus? He’s not stopping, all smiles as he continues to pound into you until the intruder finally leaves in embarrassment.

Despite all of that, he does have one secret. Just one.

He thinks it would be so hot if he and his twin fucked you together. He’d love to see you take two dicks at once and Jey is really the only person he’d ever trust to share you with. He’s pretty possessive but he’s always been good at sharing with his brother. Still, he would never speak about this to anyone, vowing to take it to the grave. It was too taboo and dirty, even for him. (Now if you brought it up maybe he would feel differently...)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s been fucking since he was a teenager and he’s tried lots of different things, whether kinky or vanilla. His partners have been pretty diverse (mostly women, occasionally men though he was high so did it really count?) and he’s pretty much seen it all. This man is a FREAK so you’d be pretty proud of yourself if you found a way to surprise him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy-style. All day, every day. No matter where you are or how tight the space is, he’ll find a way to bend you over. He loves seeing you stretched out on his cock, one hand fisted in your hair and the other gripping your hip so tightly you know it’ll leave bruises. You arch your back so perfectly for him, allowing him to thrust deeper into you as he spits some of the filthiest sex talk you’ve ever heard.

Yeah, you gon’ take this dick, little girl. Greedy little bitch, aren’t you? Love bein’ used like a dirty whore, huh?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Jimmy is the GOOFIEST. I’m sorry, but he would stop anything to make a joke or a stupid pun. You’d hate it if it didn’t make you laugh so much. Even when he’s fucking you in the nastiest, most disrespectful way, he’s still running his mouth, teasing about how he’s got you drooling into the mattress.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He rarely trims downstairs but would do it more if you asked. He doesn’t really care, more than happy to have you gag on his cock, your nose pressed into his bed of curls as he holds you in place.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He loves keeping you close to him, no matter what position he’s got you in. He might be fucking you within an inch of your life, but he’s still holding you tight against him, maybe even holding your hand or pressing sweet kisses against your skin while he does it. His sweet gestures, always so at odds with the disrespectful way he’s pounding into you, keep you grounded and make you feel cared for.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s only jacking off if he can’t be with you, like if he’s on the road or away for work. He prefers to do it with you over the phone, but he’s not opposed to just a quick jerk-off in the shower to release some stress. The entire time he’s thinking about the silky feel of your pussy or the memory of the time he’d bent you over the hood of his car in the parking lot of the WWE training center one night, the image of you drooling onto the cool metal of the car seared into his brain.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

A huge exhibitionist. Has jerked off to the idea of getting caught plenty of times and has often put you in some of the most compromising positions, partially hoping someone walks in and sees how fucked out he’s got you, your eyes crossed with pleasure.

He’s disrespectful as hell, his hand tugging at your hair or wrapping around your throat. He’s not letting you cum unless you beg for it and he’ll punish you if you cum without permission. Doesn’t really care if you’re a brat or not, he’s so cocky he knows you’ll be begging for his dick no matter what he does.

He loves seeing you cry, tears and mascara streaming down your face as you sob into the pillow. He’s laughing and smacking your ass, teasing you mercilessly.

Aw, you gonna cry? That’s fine, let it out baby. Imma give you what you’ve been begging for.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He prefers somewhere with a bed so you can be comfortable on your hands and knees for him, but he’s not picky. He knows you’ll take it wherever he wants: broom closet, locker room, tour bus, parking lot, he doesn’t care. He knows you’ll be a good girl and let him drill into your tight cunt until he’s satisfied.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Literally anything, I promise you this man is horny 24/7. He’s always down to fuck, no matter what’s going on.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He let a girlfriend peg him once in college and that was enough for him. He’s not the biggest fan of it, but if he could tell you really wanted to, he’d probably let you. He can’t really say no to you.

He won’t be submissive. He’ll let you tie him up, punish him, whatever you want, but he will never give you the upper hand. He’ll stay bratty and cocky, no matter what you’re doing to him, and he likes it that way. Being submissive is just not in his nature.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s obsessed with your head game. You can always get the best sounds out of him from this, your head bobbing up and down his shaft, drooling on his dick and licking at the vein beneath. He usually lets you go at your own pace, mostly because you do such a good job on your own, but he sometimes can’t resist grabbing you by the hair and fucking your throat.

He doesn’t often eat at you out, but when he does, he goes all the way. Orgasm after orgasm until you’re begging him to stop. He just laughs meanly at that, his strong arms keeping your hips pinned to the mattress.

Baby girl, you’re not going anywhere until I’m satisfied. Now be a good slut and keep your legs open.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s never done anything slow in his life. He’s fast and rough, his grip on you bruising as he pistons in and out of you. The only time he’ll slow down is if he’s trying to punish you, dragging across your G-spot to make you writhe and beg. He’s mean like that.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are frequent, especially if you’re with him on the road. When he’s short on time, he’s more than happy to drag you off to a dark corner and bend you over. The possibility of getting caught only encourages him to do it more.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As we’ve established, Jimmy is risky as hell. He wouldn’t give a shit if he was caught fucking you. If anything, it would turn him on more. To him, risk is part of the fun.

He’s experimented plenty in his life and isn’t afraid to try new things with you. If you somehow found something he hasn’t tried yet, he’s usually down.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man’s stamina is unreal. He can fuck you for hours on end, even when you’re too fucked out to move, collapsed on the hotel bed as he continues to slide into your overstimulated body. He won’t stop just because you’re tired. You’ve got a safeword and know how to use it.

Oh shit? Can’t take anymore, huh? That’s fine, you can just lay there and take it like a good girl.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He’s never had his own collection of toys. Sure, he’s tried pretty much all of them from his long string of adventurous lovers, but he’s never owned any himself. Honestly, he’s arrogant about it. He knows you don’t need toys, not when he’s fucking you so perfectly or making you squirt around his fingers. And he certainly knows he doesn’t need any rope or handcuffs, not when he uses his powerful arms to hold you down or manhandle you into the position he wants.

Still, if you really wanted to bring toys into the bedroom, he wouldn’t protest. He’d use whatever you wanted. Vibrator? Fine, but be prepared to be tortured with it for hours. Dildo? Great, he’s going to use it to gag your mouth until your jaw aches. Butt plug? He’s cumming in your ass multiple times just so he can plug you up with it and send you back to work. So, bring toys in at your own risk.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s so mean to you, and you love it. He’ll tease you for hours, denying you over and over until you’re ready to promise him anything just for one orgasm. He loves teasing you with his fingers, thick digits curling inside of you and brushing up against that sweet spot that makes stars explode across your vision. He hardly ever lets you cum like this. No, he wants you to beg him to fuck you and he wants you to mean it. It fuels his ego to see your pretty eyes full of tears, pussy swollen and leaking for him as you beg and plead with him to fuck you.

But still, no matter how much he teases you, he never lets you leave him unsatisfied. It’s all just part of his game. He wants you riled up and desperate for him all so he can make you cum over and over on his dick.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

This man is always running his mouth, no matter where you are or what you’re doing. He’s got some of the best dirty talk you’ve ever heard. Honestly he should win an award.

Soaking wet fo’ me and I ain’t even touch you yet? Look at you, you’re literally dripping. Need someone to rough you up tonight, huh? You gon’ walk around with my cum leakin’ out of you for the rest of the day, little girl. I hope everyone sees it dripping out of you so they know who you belong to. You spoiled as hell, girl. How many times I let you cum now? And you still want more? Greedy fucking slut.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He might be freaky as hell, but when you aren’t fucking like bunnies and are just spending time together, he’s really the goofiest, sweetest guy. He loves to spoil you with gifts: expensive jewelry, the finest champagne, new shoes, whatever you want.

Everything the two of you do is consensual and he won’t do anything unless he’s 100% sure you’re down for it. He’s had you repeat your safeword a hundred times back to him just so he can make sure you know it. As much as he loves taking risks and fucking you in public, he would never pressure you to do something you don’t want to do. He’s always so sweet about it, kissing all over your face just to make you laugh, giving you whatever you want or need from him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Long and thick, his cock drives you fucking crazy. You’re obsessed with the feeling of it splitting you open in the best ways possible, the thickness of it making your eyes roll back into your head as your body struggles to adjust to his massive size. And he fucks you so good with it too, hitting your G-spot with devastating accuracy with each powerful thrust.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s turned on all the time when he’s around you. Literally 24/7 like some kind of horny teenager. You tried to tease him about it but he’s too shameless to be embarrassed.

Baby girl, look at what you’re doing to me. Fuck, you gon’ make me jizz in my pants like a goddamn teenager. Come on, let’s find that dark corner backstage again so I can bend that perky little ass over.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You don’t know this, but he waits until he hears your soft snores before he even thinks about falling asleep. No matter how tired he is, he waits, big arms wrapped around you and his lips pressed against your forehead as he murmurs sweet nothings to lull you into slumber.

#jimmy uso x reader #jimmy uso fanfiction #jimmy uso smut #jimmy uso fic #jimmy uso imagine #wwe imagine #wwe smut #wwe fic #wwe fanfiction #wwe #jimmy uso #jimmy uso x you

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msbigredmachine · 28 days ago

Text

New To This - Chapter 18

MASTERLIST

Delilah leaned against the locker room bench, utterly drained. Her body ached in places she didn’t even know could hurt, and the weight of exhaustion pressed on her chest like a boulder. Last night had been… intense, to say the least. Between the altercation with Yandi, the stress of competition, and her “training” session in her room with Josh, she’d barely managed to scrape together two hours of sleep. Now, the morning tournament loomed over her like a cruel taskmaster, demanding strength she wasn’t sure she had left.

The locker room buzzed with quiet conversation as a few girls chatted in the corner. Their laughter felt distant and foreign, like it came from another world where people weren’t suffocating under the weight of expectations. Delilah couldn’t bring herself to join in—or even to care. If she could just survive this day without anyone bothering her, she’d consider it a victory.

She had just finished lacing up her boots when a voice cut through her solitude.

“You hear that Yandi got kicked out of the tournament?”

Delilah glanced up to see a young, dark-skinned woman, bright-eyed and confident, plop down beside her. The girl grinned, clearly expecting some kind of response, but Delilah’s exhaustion wouldn’t let her muster more than a faint shrug.

“Thanks, by the way,” the girl continued, undeterred. “That’s one less bitch to worry about.”

Delilah raised an eyebrow, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Right,” she replied coolly, returning to her bag for a roll of tape. The news should have brought her some relief—Yandi had been an absolute menace to her—but right now, even relief felt like too much effort.

“I’m Temi,” the girl introduced herself, extending a hand into Delilah’s line of sight. When Delilah didn’t reciprocate, Temi simply cracked her knuckles and leaned back against the lockers. “Brrr, cold. Everyone knows she started the fight, so you can chill. You don’t gotta worry about that bitch no more.”

Before Delilah could respond, Temi stood and gave her a friendly pat on the back. “She was just jealous. She’s about the only girl in this locker room that hasn’t fucked a famous wrestler at some point.”

Delilah froze mid-wrap, her head snapping up to meet Temi’s smirking gaze. “Excuse me?”

Temi shrugged, completely unfazed. “I mean, it’s not exactly a secret, is it? You’ve been hanging out with Jey, right? People talk.”

Delilah’s stomach churned. “How do they even know that?”

Temi chuckled as two other girls sauntered over, joining the conversation. “You train with, what? Five, six other girls?” she asked. Delilah held up five fingers, her expression guarded. “And you’re the only one with a WWE contract? Bitches talk, babe, mostly out of jealousy. Then Jey shows up at your gym a couple of times? Somebody sees him around town? They've probably seen y'all together, too. People notice things.”

“And they connect the dots,” one of the other girls chimed in. “Or, you know, they make up their own dots. Doesn’t matter. Somebody’s always watching you now.”

That realization hit Delilah like a freight train. She’d known the spotlight would come with scrutiny, but this was different. It wasn’t just trainers and scouts evaluating her potential; it was everyone. Every move she made, every interaction, every whisper—it was all under a microscope.

“How long you been doing this?” Delilah asked, trying to steady her voice.

Temi smirked, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. “Six years. And yeah, I’ve been through it. We all have.” She gestured to the girls behind her. “Cassie over there? She’s been hooking up with Damian Priest.”

Cassie beamed. “He’s flying me to New York after the tournament. We’re spending the week together.”

“Lauryn?” Temi nodded at the other girl. “She had a thing with Montez and Bianca. At the same time.”

Delilah’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

Lauryn shrugged. “It was fun. They’re premiere athletes for a good reason.”

It was getting more and more difficult to keep her jaw from dropping. “And you?” Delilah pressed, crossing her arms. “What’s your story?” When the girls behind her giggled, Delilah's eyebrow shot up. "Who?"

Lauryn put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Temi here has seduced no less than three world champions," she winked, counting off on her fingers. "Rollins, Punk, and Drew. She was all their first dark meat."

Shaking her head, Delilah’s mouth finally fell open. "Bullshit," she spat. "There is no fucking way."

Temi just nodded confidently. "Oh, there's a way," she assured. "Actually, with Rollins, there's a lotta ways," she smirked, reaching out to pat Delilah's shoulder in reassurance. "Listen, Yandi's a bitch. Nobody likes her, and now she's gone. Let that shit go," she advised with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Do your thing. Go as far as you can in this tournament. Boost your profile. You’ll need it when you start training properly at the Performance Center."

As the girls filed out, Delilah couldn’t shake the conversation. Their blasé attitudes, their stories, their warnings—it was all too much. She turned to the mirror, adjusting her gear when another voice, low and cool, cut through her thoughts again.

“So you’re the one he left me for.”

Delilah spun around, her eyes narrowing at the woman who stepped out of the shadows, immediately put Delilah on edge. She’d seen her wrestle several times through this tournament. Chloe. A striking presence both in and out of the ring, her athletic build and confident demeanor commanding attention wherever she went. With a rich brown complexion that seemed to glow under the spotlight and expressive hazel eyes, her curls, often styled in bold, intricate looks, were as dynamic as her wrestling persona—a combination of grace and grit that made her memorable. Offstage, she didn’t interact much with the others, a guarded side to her, shaped by the challenges she had faced in a male-dominated industry.

“I come in peace,” Chloe said with a faint smirk. “I was listening in on all the bragging. Quite the stellar lineup of superstars, huh? If only most of them weren’t recycled. Like yours, sorry to say.”

“What are you talking about?” Delilah asked, her voice sharp.

She extended a hand. “I’m Chloe.” When Delilah didn’t shake it, Chloe shrugged. “You’re not the only one Josh has had a fling with.”

Delilah frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”

Chloe smirked as she leaned against the lockers, her tone casual but tinged with a deliberate edge. “It was about two years ago, back in Atlanta. I was out with some girlfriends celebrating a birthday—looking fine, if I do say so myself—when Josh and his crew strolled into the club after SmackDown. His presence was impossible to ignore; he had that swagger, you know? I caught him looking at me from across the room, and let’s just say, he wasn’t subtle. He sent over a drink, then another, and before I knew it, I was in the VIP section with him. He had this way of making you feel like you were the only woman in the room. Smooth, charming, with that cocky little smirk that told you he thought he had you wrapped around his finger. And yeah, I guess he did—at least for a while.”

Delilah was speechless. Sounds about right.

She paused, brushing imaginary lint off her sleeve, as if the memory wasn’t worth more than a moment’s thought. “But, you know, it fizzled out. He wasn’t exactly available, if you catch my drift.” Her eyes flick to Delilah meaningfully. “Married men have a way of forgetting their wedding rings when they’re on the road. And sure, it was fun at first, but it got old fast. Sneaking around, his half-assed excuses, him dodging my calls when he was in town sometimes? Not my style. I don’t chase nobody, so I ended it. Of course, he didn’t take it too hard—men like Josh always find someone else to keep them entertained.” She flashed a smug smile. “Looks like you’re the lucky rebound.”

Delilah’s stomach churned as the words sank in. For nearly a year she’d been seeing Josh, and not once had he mentioned anything like this. The idea that she could be just another notch on his belt—the way Chloe clearly saw her—made her heart twist. Her hands tightened into fists at her sides, but she forced her face to remain neutral, unwilling to give Chloe the satisfaction of seeing her rattle. Still, the revelation gnawed at her, a sour taste rising in her throat as she wondered if everything she thought she had with Josh was just another game to him.

But just as she feared, Chloe could see right through her thoughts. She flashed Delilah a kind smile. “Don’t worry, sweetie, that’s all said and done. It’s all in the past. Besides, I think I’ve more than upgraded.”

Delilah’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

Chloe leaned in, her tone conspiratorial. “I woulda said his name out loud, but the NDA I signed means I can’t say much.” Her smirk widened. “I could show you though, if you’d like.”

Delilah couldn’t help but nod, curiosity getting the best of her. She watched as Chloe pulled out her phone. She handed Delilah an AirPod. “You’re the only one I’m showing this to, so if this gets out, it's you, and I'll fuck you up.”

Delilah hesitated, but eventually placed the AirPod in her ear. The video on Chloe’s phone played, showing a man with long, dark hair between Chloe’s legs, his hands gripping her thighs as her moans rang through Delilah’s ears. Her breath hitched as the man lifted his head, revealing Roman Reigns’ unmistakable face. He licked his lips, smirked at the camera, and growled, “Turn that shit off.”

The video cut, and Delilah stared at Chloe in complete shock.

“Hot, right?” Chloe teased, fanning herself dramatically. “That family’s got top-tier pussy eaters.” She shrugged. “But here’s the thing: to them, we’re not special. Just another warm body. Don’t take it personal. Use them for what they’re worth—get your rent paid, get a contract, whatever. But don’t give them your heart. That’s the game, sweetheart. If you wanna survive this business, you need to learn how to play it.”

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

Thankfully, the remainder of the tournament unfolded without a hitch. Delilah advanced to the semi-finals, where her journey came to an end. Though she didn’t take home the win, she left with a sense of accomplishment and gratitude for the experience. By the time she was heading back to Pensacola, she was content with how far she had come. True to his word, Josh had upgraded her seat to first class so they could sit together on the flight back. It wasn’t just a plane ride; it felt like their own private six-hour date in the sky.

They made the most of every moment. Between sharing a few tequila shots, stealing sweet kisses, and watching movies, they fell into an easy rhythm that felt both playful and intimate. As the hours passed, they curled up together, their seats reclined into makeshift beds. Delilah found comfort in the warmth of Josh’s embrace, and before she knew it, she had drifted off to sleep with his arm draped protectively around her. For those fleeting hours, it was as if the outside world didn’t exist—just the two of them savoring what little time they had left.

But as the plane began its descent into Pensacola, reality crept back in. Delilah’s chest tightened with the weight of what was coming next. When the wheels touched down, she felt a sharp pang in her heart, knowing this was the moment they’d part ways for good. The knowledge made her throat ache, and she wished, just for a second, that they had a little more time.

The private wing of the airport felt colder than it should have, the early morning silence pressing heavily on Delilah’s chest. Josh stood in front of her, his duffel slung casually over his shoulder, but his eyes told a different story—there was a heaviness in them that mirrored the ache in her heart. They had shared so many moments, stolen kisses, and whispered secrets over the past year, but this felt like the end of something neither of them was truly ready to let go of.

Josh rubbed the back of his neck and exhaled slowly, his broad shoulders sagging under the weight of their unspoken goodbye. “So this is it, huh,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, as though speaking louder would shatter the fragile connection still lingering between them.

Delilah bit her lip, willing herself not to cry, but it was a losing battle. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “This is it.” Her words trembled under the weight of her emotions. She knew this was the right decision—for her career, for her sanity—but it didn’t make it any easier to let go of someone who had become so much a part of her world.

Josh stepped closer, his thumb tracing the curve of her bottom lip, a touch so gentle it made her knees weak. “You gon’ miss me?” he asked, his tone teasing but laced with an undeniable sadness.

Delilah’s lip trembled despite her best efforts, and her eyes filled with tears. “More than you’ll ever know,” she admitted, her voice cracking. The truth of it burned in her throat. She would miss the way he made her laugh, the way he looked at her like she was the only woman in the room, the way he always knew just what to say to calm her nerves. She would miss everything about him, and the thought of not having him in her life felt unbearable.

Josh didn’t respond right away. Instead, he pulled her into his arms, holding her so tightly she could feel his heartbeat against her cheek. She clung to him like she was afraid he’d disappear the moment she let go, her tears soaking into his shirt.

“I don’t wanna let you go,” she whispered, her voice breaking with raw emotion.

He pressed his lips to her hair, his own voice thick with longing. “Then don’t.” The words hung in the air between them—a plea, a promise, and a goodbye all at once.

Delilah pulled back just enough to look up at him, her hand resting on his cheek. “We have to,” she said, her voice steady despite the tears clogging it. “I can’t do this right now, Josh. I need to focus on my career, and you—” She stopped, swallowing the lump in her throat. “You need to figure out what you want.”

Josh’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he might argue, might ask her to stay, but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. It wasn’t the kind of kiss meant to ignite a fire; it was the kind meant to say everything he couldn’t put into words. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers. “Take care, Delilah,” he murmured, his voice so soft she almost didn’t hear it.

“You too,” she whispered, her voice trembling. She forced a weak smile, though her heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces. “And thank you… for everything.”

Josh just nodded, his dark eyes searching hers for a moment longer before he stepped back, creating a distance that felt insurmountable. For a split second, Delilah considered running after him, begging him to stay, but she knew it wouldn’t change anything. She had to let him go.

As she watched him walk away, her chest tightened, the reality of their parting sinking in. Tank, standing a few feet away, awkwardly cleared his throat and gestured toward the waiting car. Delilah wiped at her tears, slipping on her sunglasses to hide the evidence of her heartbreak. Tank nudged her shoulder gently as they walked to the car. “You did the right thing, kid,” he said, his voice kind but firm. “He gets that.”

Delilah nodded, but the words offered little comfort. As the car pulled away, she stared out the window, replaying every moment with Josh in her mind—the laughter, the fights, the stolen moments that had made the past several months unforgettable. She knew she’d made the right choice, but the ache in her chest told her it was going to be a long time before she stopped missing him.

She was pulling up to her sister Simone’s front door when her phone rang. The area code wasn’t from here, and she didn't recognize the number. Still, something pushed at her to answer the call. "Hello?"

"May I speak to Delilah Parrish, please?" the sweet voice on the other end asked.

Delilah leaned her hip against her suitcase. "Yes, this is Delilah," she responded, her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"Hi Delilah, my name is Emilia, and I'm with Dr. Gonzalez's office in Orlando," she said, "You came in for a physical last week?" she questioned.

Nodding and exhaling a sigh of relief, Delilah cleared her throat. "Yes, I did," she assured the nurse. As part of the recruitment process, WWE had requested she take a physical with their recommended medical facility. Delilah had done it with zero issues. She was determined that nothing was going to hinder her commencing training at the PC, and though she knew she was in good health, she would jump through any other hoop they asked to prove it.

"Well," Emilia spoke with a cheerful smile that for some reason was grating Delilah's nerves in her current state of mind. "Everything looks great. You're healthy as a horse, and we just sent the results to you via email," she said. "However, there’s just one thing that we want to make sure you are aware of, considering the degree of physicality you regularly engage in." Emilia cleared her throat. "You’re pregnant, Miss Parrish. Congratulations."

—————–

😬😬😬😬

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@murrylove @thewarlordsworld @mzv11 @nayys-world @harmshake @mindairy @hunnidmilly @tribalhoochie @cyberdejos2 @papireigns-05 @captainwithoutmakingitlove

@sovereigngoth @aisharmi @kennedi0818 @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @questionable-behaviour @tribalchiefreigns @joannasteez

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@tabletheofhead @rheaanddamianfan @vebner37 @hanley1577 @princessesareforsuckers @joannasteez @bbygirlky18 @lilucey @theninthwonder @melaninsugababy

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@reci1996 @catxo @iamimanim @lookmais @ts1mp0ne @final1miya @kia1996 @randomuser0711

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#jey uso #main event jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso smut #the bloodline #jey uso x oc #jey uso x black oc #jey uso imagine #jey uso fanfic

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miragemurder · 1 year ago

Text

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Separated

Part 3 of Spotlight & Secret

Pairing: Veneer x GN Reader

Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst

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Part three is here! Thank you guys so much for your support. Honestly didn’t expect this series to get far so I’m glad you guys enjoy! Velvet is kind of a bitch in this story so I’m sorry to all my Velvet lovers. I’m working on some smaller requests right now so please keep sending them in! Master list coming soon.<3 ★ ★ ★

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Run. Get away as fast as you can. That was the only thing you had on your mind when you first heard Velvet’s steps down the hallway. Secret. This has to be a secret, no one must know what just had happened. If you were caught making out with one of the biggest stars Mount Rageous had to offer it would be game over, for the both of you. You couldn’t risk Veneer’s whole career over one simple kiss.

You hurried down the hallway until you got out onto the main floor of the Rage Dome. You took in some deep breaths, trying to regain the air you just lost scurrying down the hallway. Looking around, you found the nearest bathroom and quickly walked in. Speeding to the mirror, you fixed up the hair you “accidentally” messed up and splashed your face with some water.

You looked up into the mirror and a moment of realization struck you. Veneer’s lipstick is waterproof. Your lips were stained the same shade of green his lipstick was. You tried everything you can to rub it off, using a towel, water, even your sleeve. Nothing. Sure the people out there would see the lipstick and think none of it, but you knew that Velvet would know, somehow or other. She always finds out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ugh where’s crimp? I told her to be at my vanity in ten and she’s not there!” Velvet walked into Veneer’s room, immediately making her presence known.

She looked over to Veneer who was frantically combing out his hair, making sure it looked just how it did before your two’s little session. She rose a brow, slowly walking over to her brother.

“Veneer, what’s up with you? Why are you acting so skittish and nervous?” Velvet questioned, approaching right behind him.

“Oh me? I’m fine! I don’t know what you mean, I’m totally fine. Nothing is wrong with me, I’m totally… perfectly… fine.” Ending his sentence, he slunk back into his chair. He quietly panicked, hoping everything looked normal.

Velvet squinted her eyes and watched Veneer through the mirror before twirling around his chair, having him face her. She brought her hand to his face, almost inspecting it.

“Your lipstick’s smudged.” She said softly in a stern tone. She looked him directly in the eye, furrowing her brows.

“Why is your lipstick smudged?” She slowly backed off him and crossed her arms. Veneer gulped, not knowing how to respond.

“Veneer.” Her voice rose. Clearly she knew something was up.

“Please sister I can explain!” Veneer frantically stood up, breaking his silence.

“Veneer you know the rules about this!” Velvet shouted, “Who did you have in here?” She took ahold of his collar, keeping a firm grasp.

“Answer me!” She screamed. Veneer flooded with panic, trying to push her hand off of him.

“It.. it was [_____]!” He cried, closing his eyes as he felt himself tear up. He was frozen in place, silently sobbing to himself. He knew he should act strong and stand up for himself but he all he felt was vulnerable.

Velvet let go of his collar and stood in silence, the feeling of rage seething out of her. Veneer opened his eyes slightly to watch his sister’s next move.

“I never want to see their face here again. If you know what’s good for you, you will delete their number and never speak to them again. I am not risking my dream for your emotions to get in the way. You know the rules, you can not have a relationship with a fan-“

“But they’re not a fan-“

“You will not!” Velvet yelled. This was the first Veneer had ever seen his sister so upset. He couldn’t move, all his emotions were crashing against each other like waves of the sea. He felt himself visibly shake as he looked into his sisters eyes.

“Get. Out.” He spoke. Velvet’s eyes grew wide at his sudden comment.

“I said get out!” He yelled. Velvet swiftly turned and exited his room. Veneer walked over to his couch, breaking out into tears. Why did he care this much? It was only a person he met a couple weeks ago. They haven’t even been dating yet he was enticed. He slowly curled up into a ball and sobbed into his knees, eventually drifting off.

Veneer woke up to the sound of a hard knock from his door. He hurried to get up and brush himself off, wiping away the tears that crusted away in his sleep.

“15 minutes.” The director yelled from behind the door. Veneer panicked, there was no way he was going to be able to get ready in time for the meet and greet. He quickly through on his shoulder padded top and ran out the door to his sisters room to find crimp.

Once he made it to her room he quickly knocked, huffing a little from the slight jog. Velvet opened her door, fully ready for the event.

“And what do you think you’re doing here?” Velvet questioned, raising a brow.

“I need Crimp to help me get ready.” Veneer sighed, still trying to catch his breath.

“Oh no, no, no. You’re not going.” Velvet hissed, walking out the door and passing him. Veneer turned to her, confused.

“What do you mean I’m not going?” He hurried to catch up to her.

“I mean clearly you’re not prepared. I also don’t want you and your “lover” to see each other.” Veneer paused, Velvet continuing to walk down the hall to go greet her fans.

Veneer stood silent, then slowly started walking back to his room. He felt like such a wreck. First, his lover had to hide away. Second, his sister found out. And now third, he wasn’t going to be able to visit his fans at the meet and greet. He walked into his room, closing the door and sat right in front of it. This is what he wanted but why did he feel so empty?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were exploring the rest of the Rage Dome until you saw a crowd off people waiting for something. You slowly walked over to inspect the crowd and to see what was happening. Suddenly, you heard a voice from a speaker go off.

“Please welcome, Velvet and Veneer!”

You rushed to push yourself to the front of the crowd, wanting to see Veneer. You watched as Velvet came out from behind the little stage they had going on. There was a set of stairs so one by one fans could greet their favorite Popstar. You watched as she walked to the center of the stage. You noticed that Veneer was gone and started questioning what was going on. Until Velvet noticed you and made a quick realization. She slowly walked over until she was fully in front of you.

“Nice to meet you, [____].”

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Guys, I really feel bad about this one I’m sorry. I felt like I did you guys dirty. It’s not my best work but I hope you guys enjoyed, I’m probably going through a mini writers block rn. I know Veneer was technically already “ready” in the last post but he cried and passed out, I feel like you would have to fix yourself up again after that. Also, Velvet very much knows everything about you and Veneer, she has her ways~

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#fanfic #trolls #trolls band together #velvet and veneer #veneer #veneer trolls #veneer trolls x reader #veneer x reader

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j2hoes · 7 months ago

Text

Hopes And Fears - Part Four. (Wally Clark x Reader)

Summary: Y/N’s death was traumatic. So traumatic in fact she can’t even look at Wally without reliving her death.

Word Count: 2.8k

Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!

Warnings: Mature Language, Themes Of Rape/Sexual Assault

“That was kind of harsh Rhonda.”

Charlie’s voice breaks the uncomfortable silence that has fallen upon the group. Each face holding a different expression. Rhonda full of hatred, Charlie consumed by guilt for not stepping in, Wally a mixture of surprise and discomfort.

“Do you think maybe somebody should go after her?” Dawn questions, speaking for the first time since the group session began.

Rhonda huffs, slumping down into her chair as she realises that nobody is taking sides, and if they are, they’re not taking her’s.

“Off you go then Wally, run after your precious little angel.” The girl spits, lips set in a firm scowl, eyes shooting daggers towards him.

“Rhonda!” Mr Martin snaps, though the teens aren’t listening. After all, despite being a teacher, he holds no position of authority over them in death.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Wally asks quietly, shaking his head as he does so.

“Maybe I’ve just had enough. Sixty years I’ve been here Wally! Yet nobody seems to care about how that makes me feel, all of you are just pandering to the new girl.” She shouts, slamming her hands down on the edge of her chair as she does so. Taking everyone by surprise.

“Rhonda, of course we care but you’re being really mean.” Charlie speaks softly, gazing sympathetically at the brunette girl.

“Mean? I don’t think I’ve been mean enough. I mean seriously is nobody questioning why she’s being so secretive? What doesn’t she want us to know?” Rhonda continues to push her argument in an attempt to gain a rise out of the other students. Hoping to get them to question themselves and where they stand in regards to the situation. “If you ask me, I reckon the bitch killed herself and she’s too much of a wuss to tell us.”

“That’s bang out of order Rhonda and you know it!” Wally bellows, leaping out of his chair and stomping straight over to her, hands placed on either side of her legs, caging her between himself and the back of the chair. “Don’t you ever speak about her like that again. Don’t you dare so much as look at her. Or I will make the rest of your eternity a living hell, do you understand me?”

Rhonda has no time to respond, though the frightened look on her face tells Wally all he needs to know. Without a second glance, he’s barging out the room. Launching one of the empty chairs across the gym as he does so, resulting in a large clatter though nobody really notices. All eyes fixed on the loveable jock, dumbfounded at the rage he is exhibiting. This being entirely out of character, never once in the years they had no Wally had he exploded in such a way.

Whilst each of the ghosts sits silently, all contemplating their next move in order to avoid another argument, Charlie is the first to make a move. Giving Rhonda a nervous glance, he slowly exits the gym. Asserting that his decision as to who’s side he is on has been made.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ducking under the police tape, I’m thankful that no officers are around. Granted, I know they can’t see me, I just find it awkward to be stumbling between the living. I’ve come to realise just how much people lack spacial and self awareness.

The room is exactly as it was left, blood stains splattered on the tiled walls and floors. A glistening red in contrast with the mucky white tiles. In fact, the only change within the room is the numbered notes, I can only assume for any evidence the officers may have gathered.

I find myself perched on the end of the splintered wooden bench, lost in thought as I fixate on the scene. I’m amazed at how much blood I truly lost, assuming it would have only been small flecks. When in reality, it is everywhere. Stains from how it pooled mark the floor as well as splashes coating the walls.

My mind flashes back to that moment. Their hands on my body. The beatings I endured as I tried my best to resist. Sharp pain as I tried my hardest to close my legs. Squeals of agony escaping my mouth only to be met with a calloused hand gripping my face tightly prevent anymore noise.

It’s only when I feel a tear drip from my chin to the back of my hand that I realise I’m crying. Nothing to be heard other than my soft sniffles. Despite the memories plaguing my mind, I can’t help but feel proud at myself for returning here. It’s such a small accomplishment and yet for me, it feels as though I’ve taken a huge step forwards into fully processing what I went through. It’s a step closer to healing.

“God, I can’t believe they haven’t cleaned this up yet. I’d have thought they would want to scrub it straight away.”

Charlie’s voice takes me aback and my head spins towards the door. Noticing him shyly stood just outside of the room, almost like he doesn’t actually want to enter. An overwhelming sense of deja vu hits me and I’m reminded of our first interaction right outside.

“I don’t think they’re legally allowed to clean up. Otherwise I’m sure they’d have torn the entire building down by now.”

Shuffling over on the bench slightly, Charlie takes this as an invitation and perches beside me. The two of us staring at the crime scene.

“So I take it you were murdered.” He questions apprehensively, knowing full well what the answer is.

“I’m sorry I haven’t spoke about it yet.” I speak softly, almost afraid of what his reaction could be. I don’t want him to lose his temper like Rhonda, though I get the feeling that he doesn’t have an angry bone in his body. “Charlie, I want to talk. I do. It’s so recent though, I haven’t even been dead a month. I get that it’s shitty but I’m not ready to go into the details of it all.”

“You would think out of all of us that Rhonda would be the most understanding. She’s always been very open about her murder though.” Charlie tells me, seemingly unfazed by my lack of wanting to talk. “I get it though Y/N, you don’t owe us anything. Don’t tell Rhonda this because she’ll think I’m a complete bitch but she was strangled to death, and no offence but judging by the state of this room, your murder was a lot more brutal.”

“Let’s not turn this into a competition of who had a worse death.” I joke, feeling more relaxed due to his words. “But seriously thank you. It means a lot that you’re being so nice.”

“Of course.” The boy smiles brightly, which seems to be contagious because I can’t hold back the beam on my face either. “On a completely separate note, you should probably go and find Wally. He completely lost his shit with Rhonda after you left. Like he went full psycho, I’ve never seen him lose it like that before.”

“Fuck.” I whisper, running a hand through my hair, a habit of mine when I’m under stress. “Thanks again Charlie, I really appreciate it.”

Charlie only nods gently, watching me scurry out the room. Clearly sensing that I’m in a rush to find the footballer. Wandering around the halls of Split River, it’s only then that I realise I have no idea where Wally could be. Worry begins to seep through my pores, knowing there is endless possibilities as to where he could be. If only the school could be ten times smaller. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so challenging.

Thinking back to our previous conversations, I try to remember any hangout spots that Wally may have mentioned. Though these rarely seem to come up in conversation. We spent most of the time sprawled out in the gardens and yet there was no sign of him when I searched back there.

Huffing out of annoyance, I’m fully prepared to give up my hunt for him. At least I was. Out of the corner of my eye I become aware of the sign directing students towards the pool. Wally’s words ring in my head from earlier this morning.

“So I was thinking we could have a pool day.”

With crossed fingers and countless prayers being whispered under my breath, I stride towards the pool. Confidence boosted as I hope that my intuition is right and that he went away with his pool day solo.

My suspicions are confirmed as my eyes lay upon the handsome boy. Lost in his own thoughts as he drifts about on a pool floaty, arms tucked beneath his head and sunglasses on to block out the rest of the world. Loitering at the edge of the pool, I remain silent. Just for a moment. In order to truly appreciate this man’s beauty. He’s the most exposed I’ve ever seen him. Granted he’s only shirtless, but still I can’t help the flutter I feel in my heart (and possibly between my legs). With defined abs and toned body, he reminds me of a Greek statue, carved out of stone.

“Y/N, I’m not really in the mood to talk right now.” Wally states, as my eyes drag up his body, I’m aware that his sunglasses are now placed on his forehead and he most likely just caught me gazing at his physique.

“I know, neither am I.” I admit, sitting down at the edge of the pool, pulling my shoes off and throwing them behind me so that I can dip my feel it in the lukewarm water. “But I do owe you an apology.”

This catches his attention and I see his eyebrows raise, eyes darting over to me. Wally looks sad. There’s no other way for me to describe it. I’ve seen him sulk and upset before. However, he looks worse than I’ve ever seen.

“Rhonda’s words really hit me. I never meant to make you feel like you’d done anything wrong. I’m so sorry for making you feel that way. You don’t need to try to make me feel less threatened. I know you don’t have a cruel heart.” I admit, voice shaky as I genuinely have no idea as to how he will react. “It’s no excuse, but I was struggling a lot those first couple of days and I guess I took it out of you and you didn’t deserve that. So I really hope you’ll forgive me. I also thought I should probably mention that you don’t have to stop wearing your football stuff because of me. You love it, I don’t want you to feel as though you can’t wear it because I’m going to have a breakdown.”

Swinging my feet in the water slowly, I keep myself focused on this rather than Wally who floats a few feet away. His silence scares me slightly and I know that if I even look at him, I may burst into tears. I never meant to hurt him. I really didn’t.

“Rhonda’s full of bullshit.”

I’m shocked when he speaks, purely because I thought he was mad at me. I’m even more shocked when I understand what he’s said. Never once hearing Wally say a bad thing about someone and here he is calling out one of the ghosts he’s known the longest.

“What?” I’m completely puzzled by what he just said, not knowing what he means by it and whether he means that what Rhonda said wasn’t true. My tone reflects this and when I go to look up at him, he’s already slipping off the floaty and swimming towards me.

“I said Rhonda’s full of bullshit.” He’s pretty much beside me now, arms crossed as they rest against the edge of the pool next to me. It’s the closest we’ve ever been to one another and I can’t deny the way my heart races right now. Not even one ounce of fear resides within me despite our close proximity. Maybe I am doing better now? “I like spending time with you Y/N. I wasn’t trying to make you feel less threatened. Yeah, I wanted you to feel welcome and to know I mean no harm but that was it. All the time I’ve spent with you is because I wanted to, I enjoy it.”

“So you’re not mad at me?”

He laughs faintly. “No, I’m not mad at you. Thank you for the apology but you really didn’t have to say anything.”

I cannot even begin to describe how relieved I am that the ghost isn’t mad at me. For a moment back there, I was prepared to spend eternity alone, thinking everybody had turned their backs on me. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case and I potentially let myself overthink without speaking to anybody under less tense circumstances.

Grateful to have resolved things with Charlie and Wally, the only person left is Rhonda. However, something tells me that she might need some time. I doubt seeking her out is the best course of action right now and she probably needs space to cool off. So, for now, I’m happy to sit here and bask in the peace once more.

“So, a pool day for one isn’t exactly the most exciting and fun time.” Wally mentions, splashing a small amount of water at me.

“No I can’t imagine it is.” I reply, he swims backwards, a silent request for me to join him in the water. Which I’m happy to oblige.

Stripping off my clothes, I dump them on one of the seats. Out of the way of the pool edge in the hopes that they remain dry. Left only in my underwear, a lacy red bralette with matching thong, I thank my lucky stars that the day I died was one of the days I wore a decent set.

A shaky breath leaves my mouth as I turn around to face Wally. It’s the most vulnerable I’ve felt since getting here and I am anxious. Afraid of any judgement from Wally and afraid of being so exposed. All of these thoughts vanish instantly when Wally’s eyes begin to trail my body. Flashing with desire. He doesn’t think I’ve noticed, though I don’t miss the barely there whistle that escapes under his breath.

“Are you gonna move out of the way or what?” I ask, hands on my hips as I wait for him to move to one side.

He does so with no complaint and I sprint forward, diving straight beneath the water and surfacing with a gasp for air. Pulling my hair out of my face, I find myself only a few inches away from Wally and take the opportunity to splash the water in his direction. After all, it’s only fair that I take my revenge.

“Oh this is war.” Wally yelps after being pelted in the face again by another large splash.

We’re both rocked against the waves that the battle has created. Huge splashes attacking each other alternatively, repeatedly in hopes of taking the other person down. I’m completely unaware that the force of the water is slowly bringing us closer together and before I know it we’re face to face. Noses practically touching one another.

“I think I win.” He whispers, sopping wet hair pushed back off his forehead, small curls beginning to form.

“Never.”

He’s focused on me, chestnut brown eyes piercing into my soul. I daren’t think too much, scared he can read my mind with the force of his gaze. A sudden surge of bravery must overcome him as he gently reaches out, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. His touch is soft, as light as a feather. Like he’s scared I’ll pull away. It’s the first time we’ve ever made physical contact and though the act is so sweet and innocent, my heart flutters at the intimacy of it.

His hand is delicate as it moves from my hair, gliding down my cheek to hold it lovingly. It’s then that I notice his eyes flickering down to my lips, silently asking for permission. As much as my heart desires his touch and his affection, something in my mind can’t let go. It won’t allow me to take that step further and so I reluctantly pull away. The move quick as I break out of his gentle hold.

“I’m gonna go dry off in the sun.” The words spill out of my mouth, faster than I intended. Wally tries his best to hide it but I spot the disappointment clear on his face. Obviously hoping that this could have gone further.

If only I was able to articulate to him just how much I wanted to take things further as well. For now though, we’ll stay friends.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tag list:

Ask if you would like to be removed. :)

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#wally clark fluff #wally clark x reader #wally clark imagines #wally clark fic #wally clark #school spirits imagines #school spirits fic #school spirits #fluff #hopes and fears #wally clark angst #angst #school spirits angst

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visionarymode · 1 year ago

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Double Trouble

✧ warnings: smut, language, 18+

✧ pairing: jimmy uso & jey uso x female reader

✧ word count: 7,698

this is the second chapter of this little series with the twins, you can catch up & read part one Seeing Double here <3 this chapter was a lot longer than I expected it to be but I hope y'all enjoy! and yes... there will be one more for the finale 👀

₊˚✩༺♡༻ ‧₊˚✩༺♡༻ ‧₊˚✩༺♡༻ ‧₊˚✩༺♡༻ ‧₊˚✩

Meet him upstairs in five? Five minutes? Why? What the hell did Jey say to him? Or maybe he didn’t mention anything, he just wanted to see you. You guys did have a hot and heavy make-out session in the bedroom before you got interrupted, by his brother. The same brother that just ate you out in the upstairs bathroom. While Jimmy was standing outside of that bathroom, not a single clue as to what was happening on the other side. Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard to type back, but they couldn’t. You were so confused, drunk, and still racing from that orgasm upstairs. You couldn’t think straight. You felt your heart starting to pound inside your chest and realized you were literally on the verge of an anxiety attack. You pinched Jasmine’s arm twice. It was both of your guys’ secret way of calling for help when the both of you needed the other in situations like this one. She turned to you mid-laugh from the conversation she was indulged in, realizing you needed her, and grabbed your wrist to head out the door. The chilly breeze flew back your hair as she shut the door and walked with you halfway down the pavement.

“What’s wrong babe? You need the inhaler?” she asked, messily rummaging through her purse before she clumsily dropped it to the floor.

“No, no I don’t know. I just need air. I don’t know,” you rambled pacing back and forth hugging yourself to keep warm as the wind made you shiver.

“What happened? Did something happen? Did that bitch do something? I’ll beat his ass!”

“No Jaz, they didn’t do anything.”

“They?” she asked with furrowed brows.

You realized what you said and stopped pacing, looking back at her with a “yeah, I fucked up” look.

“Oh shit. They!” her jaw dropped at the realization.

“Shut up,” you warned her with a finger feeling her comments about to spring up.

“I didn’t even say anything!” she laughed taking a mini shot glass out of her purse.

“Girl what the hell is that?” you tried to hide your giggle.

“It’s my customized shot glass what do you mean?” You both busted out laughing, still clearly drunk and easily distracted.

“So they, huh? Plural? As in both of them?”

“Yes and no.”

“Girl how does that work?” she asked with a high-pitched tone.

“I didn’t fuck either of them,” you whined back at her, impatience adding its way in your already swirling emotions from her questions.

“So what happened then?!” she semi yelled, still giggly.

“Made out with Jimmy in the guest room and Jey ate me out in the bathroom,” you quickly splurged out as you covered your mouth acting like you heard that information for the first time yourself. She loudly gasped at your confession and started laughing.

“Girl, I didn’t know you got down like that period!” she shook her head, holding up her hand in the air so you could high-five her.

“What are you- put your hand down this is not a flex!” you hissed, pushing her hand back down.

“You living every girl’s dream babe, you fucking around with both twins! And they’re fine as hell!” she playfully snapped back. You covered your face at her hard-hitting comments and sighed.

“So what now? Was it a one time thing? Do you like one better?” she gasped in between questions.

“Jasmine! I don’t know. I-I like them both. They both make me fucking swoon-”

“Swoon’s a funny ass word,” she laughed. You kissed your teeth about to remark her statement before you heard the sound of the door opening a few feet away.

“Y’all okay?” Your head snapped to the front door to see Jimmy stepping out, walking towards the both of you. “You leaving already?”

“No- I just-” you stuttered, your phone slipping out of your hand and falling onto the cement. “Fuck!” you cursed under your breath, picking it up to check for any cracks, and sighed with relief to see that it was okay.

“Y/N just needed some air. She wasn’t feeling too good, she’s just drunk,” she quickly covered for you and you were so grateful for her saving your ass at that moment.

“Anyways I’ll see y’all back inside I’m freezing,” she started shimmying back to the door before turning around to shoot you a thumbs up with a wink.

“You okay? Yo anxiety actin’ up again?” he softly asked, reaching to run his hands up and down your shivering shoulders. The same way his twin brother did literally twenty minutes ago.

“No I thought I was, but I’m okay,” you hesitantly smiled, still attempting to read his indecipherable face.

“Come here,” he waved his hand over but stepped towards you instead to wrap his arms around you, his tall figure securely embracing your five-foot body. You sighed, hugging him back tightly, feeling a little bit of relief but that guilt still crept up in your mind.

“You get my text?” he mumbled in your hair. You opened your eyes as that same anxiety that withdrew from your body from his touch started sprinkling back in your blood.

“What text?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“I wanted you to come upstairs…” his hand stopped rubbing down your back and you felt your breathing start to escalate again.

“Jimmy-“ you began to say before he cut you off.

“Just come upstairs,” he sternly whispered in your ear before letting go of you and walking back towards the door to head inside. You stood there shocked and confused before he turned back around to look at you with a raised brow.

“Whatchu’ doin’? It’s cold out here get inside,” he playfully remarked extending his hand for you to grab. You sighed of relief and grabbed his hand as you both went back inside and up the stairs to the same bedroom you shared an intimate moment earlier. He shut the door behind him and your smile faded away as he almost coldly looked at you, searching your eyes for information as if he knew you did something to fuck up.

“Just sit,” he vocalized, nodding his head over to the bed. You slowly walked over and sat on the edge of the bed as he locked the door behind him, taking his sweet time stepping to stand in front of you.

“Jimmy I can exp-”

“Stop,” he sternly yet so quietly interrupted, still eyeing you below him. You got lost in his intimidating brown eyes for a split second and before you knew it, the alcohol decided to take a leap and you started word vomiting.

“I’m so sorry. It didn’t mean anything, we were both just drunk and it happened so fast. I didn’t know Jey was gonna come in like that-“

“Hol’ up. Hol’ up. Jey?“

You froze at his question, feeling your throat choke up. He had no fucking idea what you were talking about.

“W-What?” you asked back stupidly.

“Whatchu’ mean Jey?”

“I didn’t- Why did you call me back up here?” you switched topics, thinking back to his text to meet you up here.

“Because I wanted to chill with you? Pick up where we left off…what the fuck happened with Jey?” he spat. Your mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. You felt your heart racing and hands shaking as you nervously fumbled with them in your lap.

“Nothing I ju-”

“Did y’all fuck?” he blurted with furrowed brows.

“No! No, we didn’t.” You clarified, standing up to face him but that didn’t calm him any less.

“Then what happened?” he pressured you, sensing your bullshit answer.

“I-” you sighed looking down knowing you had to just get it out and there was no going back.

“I-I was in the bathroom. He came in…everything happened so fast, one thing led to another and he…gave me head,” you mumbled the last part looking back up to see his face filled with anger, then confusion, then hurt.

“Gave you head?! Was that before or after we were up here together?”

“After…” your voice broke from his harsh and offended tone. He kissed his teeth and turned his back on you to pace a couple of steps away from you, stressfully running his hand over his beard.

“Jimmy I-” Before you could finish your sentence he lowly mumbled something under his breath that you couldn’t make out and rushed to the door, snatching the doorknob open. You followed in pursuit but he was way faster than your short ass as he practically jogged down the stairs.

“Oh fuck-” you quickly realized this wasn’t going to end well and started running down the stairs but it was too late. Jey was in the middle of the room deep in conversation as he laughed, having a great time. That pretty smile was quickly taken away once he turned his head at his brother’s presence, and Jimmy threw a punch at his face. You gasped loudly and so did everybody else as all the men in the room surrounded them, trying to break them up as they started brawling in the middle of the room.

“What the fuck are y’all doing?!” Solo ran up from the kitchen trying to pull Jimmy off his brother and luckily was successful as he shoved him away from his other brother. Your eyes widened and you covered your mouth in shock looking down at Jey on the floor holding his face, glaring at Jimmy as two of his cousins started helping him up.

“Bitch,” he mumbled under his breath. He noticed you to the side and his face softened at your presence and worried look, his eyes moving back and forth between you and his brother quickly understanding what happened. He helped himself up and moved his way through the crowd, exiting the front door. You searched for Jimmy and saw him walking up the stairs.

“What the fuck just happened?!” Jasmine alarmingly reached for your arm, her voice barely heard from the crowd still rambling about what they just witnessed.

“Fuck,” you huffed making your way through everybody to head up the stairs. You peeked through the open cracks of the doors and then reached the second to last one on the right that was shut. The same bedroom you and Jimmy were in earlier. You lightly knocked twice and there was no answer. You knocked again, no answer. You turned the doorknob to check if it was locked and it wasn’t. You slowly opened it, peeking your head in to see Jimmy sitting on the edge of the bed chugging his beer bottle. You gulped as your anxiety started to rise in your body again, carefully stepping in hoping he wouldn’t kick you out.

“Can we talk?” you asked with a low whisper. He looked up at you and pointed to the empty space next to him with his bottle in response. You carefully sat down, as if you’d cause more harm just by denting the sheets with your sitting.

“I’m so sorry. I- I don’t know what I was doing I told you it happened so fast. I didn’t expect to share that moment with you up here and I sure as hell didn’t expect to do…that with your own brother. I’m sorry. I-I’m so drunk,” you sighed, giving up on explaining as your hands flew to your lap. He chuckled at your rambling and you turned your head to the sound in confusion at his reaction.

“What?” you asked.

“You stay talking too damn much when you’re drunk,” he laughed taking another sip of his beer. A smile slowly crept up on your lips, feeling relief and comfort from his sweet-tempered words.

“I can’t help it,” you mumbled looking down to fumble with your fingers. He noticed and grabbed your hand as they naturally enlaced together. He stared a little too long at your intertwined fingers and pulled his hand away, hunching down to look at the floored space between his legs as he ran his hand over his beard in deep thought. That smile on your face faded again, knowing he couldn’t just easily get over this. He had feelings for you, and you went ahead and fucked around with his twin brother.

“Jimmy…”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted you, looking back up to shrug his shoulders as if he was unbothered. You wanted to believe him, but you sensed that he didn’t even believe himself. Your mouth opened to speak but he took another swing of his beer bottle, drinking a little extra this time.

“S-So you’re not mad?” you asked as he shook his head and wiped some dribbles of his beer off his bearded chin. You watched him set his bottle down on the floor as you spoke up again, not understanding how he didn’t seem to care.

“Are you su-“ you were cut off as he abruptly grabbed your face and shut you up, his lips smashing against yours. You hesitated at first because it was a strong, forceful, hungered kiss…almost as if he was trying to take his anger out on you. But once he pulled you closer by the nape of your neck, sliding his delectable tongue in your mouth, you wasted no time sucking on it, helping him relieve the stress.

“Stop talkin’ and take these fuckin’ jeans off,” he mumbled followed by a bite on your lower lip as he unbuttoned your pants and zipped them down with lightening speed. You were so turned on you couldn’t even think straight, so you did whatever the hell he told you to do. You desperately panted against his parted mouth, slipping them off before he got up and stood between your legs.

“Get up on this bed and put your ass up for me…” he softly demanded, grabbing you by the throat as he looked behind you to show you where he wanted you. Your eyes didn’t leave his as you scooted back and turned around to get on all fours. Your breath shook as he ran his fingers up and down your drenched panties, his other hand palming your ass cheek before he groped you. He slid off your thong as you lifted each knee to help him. You felt his breath on your inner thighs as he spread open your folds, humming in hunger.

“This pussy is mine…” he muttered before spitting between your folds. You moaned as you felt his saliva drip down along your entrance before he scooped it back up with his tongue, making your knees buckle.

“Oh my god…” you gasped as he started lapping his tongue frantically, the loud sounds of it slurping over your wetness ringing in your ears as you quickly fell into a euphoric state. He squeezed your ass with both hands as he groaned, practically motor boating your pussy lips, dipping his tongue back in to lick you up.

“Shiiiiiit,” you whined as your face fell onto the sheets, your upper body collapsing as your ass was still in his grasp. He spanked you, surely leaving a red print making you clutch on the sheets beneath you tighter. He spat inside your lower lips again, this time more forcefully as you felt his saliva shoot against your hole before he came back to lap his tongue over the same saliva-stained spot. He repeated it over..and over…and over… until you shuddered and almost choked on your breath from how deep his face was buried in your ass, his lips never leaving your mess unless it was to heighten your pleasure with his spit.

“Jimmy…I-I’m gonna cum,” you first whispered until it turned into a high-pitched whine, making you move back on your hands to grind against his face. He lowly moaned, continuing to make out with your pussy as he spanked you again, jiggling your ass cheeks in his hands.

“Cum baby…cum…” he mumbled between licks and your orgasm came crashing down, your cries matching the frequency of his slurps as you squirted in his mouth.

“Good girl…” he moaned in satisfaction as he dedicatedly swallowed every shooting drop of your nectar.

“Fuck…” you breathed out as rocked your body away from his face, your head falling back down to your chest from blissful exhaustion. He chuckled at your reaction before you heard rustles behind you as he took off his joggers and boxers. You looked back at the sight, his long, thick, pretty brown dick springing out making you bite your lip and rocking your ass back in his direction. He smirked back at you before he spat on his dick to lubricate it some more. You watched it swirl down onto his tip that mixed with his pre cum, his big hand sliding it up and down his shaft as he leaned over you.

“If this is whatchu’ wanted you shoulda just told me…” he growled in your ear, as he hovered on top of your heated back, sliding his sloppy tip between your ass cheeks before gliding it further down to your wet entrance, sloshing it up and down your drenched mess. You couldn’t speak as he held your jaw in his hands, your mouth parted open with short, raspy moans rolling off your tongue.

“Pl-Please…” you begged as he teasingly brought his tip to your hole.

“Please what? Huh?” he pressured you, his lips grazing your earlobe as he started slipping his thick head inside your hole.

“I need you inside o-ooooh my gooooood,” you loudly moaned as he didn’t let you finish, instead slowly pushing half of himself inside you. He thrusted again, this time shoving his entire length in you. You felt your elbows slip on the bed, your head dropping down from how fucking good he felt. He brought himself back up, smoothing his hand down your back to push your face back into the sheets. His thrusts slowly escalated, and you felt him in the pit of your stomach each time he pumped his big dick in you. Faster, deeper, harder…

The bed started squeaking and the headboard was hitting the wall, surely if people were outside that door they would know damn well what was going on inside.

“You like that? You like this dick baby?” he groaned in deep pleasure, gripping your hips in place.

“Yesyesyes…” you moaned before you loudly gasped as he spanked you again, slowing down his elongated strokes.

“Where you goin’?” he hummed watching you trying to crawl away and grip the sheets above your head as they pulled off the mattress from your tight grip. He grabbed a handful of your hair to pull you back up on your hands. He picked up the steady, rough pace as his dick sloppily slid in and out of you, making your mind swirl with dizziness.

“Nah, get up you gonna feel every…inch…of…this…dick…” the sounds of his balls slapping against your skin filling the pauses between each word as he continued to pile drive his dick deep in your guts. You started seeing stars as your breath got caught in your throat, feeling your climax climbing up on you.

“I-I’m-“ you shakily whimpered.

“Yeah…he can’t fuck you like this, can he?” he lowly chuckled with a deep, sadistic tone that quickly turned into a moan as he felt your walls fluttering around his dick.

“Mmmm you gonna cum?” he shakily whispered back as he leaned into your ear. All you could do was nod, your eyes were low, mouth dropped open with ongoing cries as he cupped on of your breasts to then slither it down your stomach and over your sensitive clit to rub circles over it.

“Cum on my dick baby…” he moaned feeling you pulsate around his thick length that didn’t stop pounding in you. His sensual coaching in your ear was the last straw for you and your soaking pussy, your orgasm crashing down as you didn’t control your moan, after moan, after moan…after…

“Oh my-my gooooooood,” you cried as you felt a tear drop fall from your left eye. He fucked you so hard and so good that your eyes stung with tears, failing to keep up with his heavy rocks that practically sent you into a different realm.

“Fuck…” he moaned as he kissed your cheek, tasting your tear drop. You could feel your messy juices dripping onto the sheets in spurts, as he continued to pump you with his coated dick.

“I wanna taste you…” you whispered, faintly turning back to look him in the eyes as he held you by the cheeks with his right hand squeezing them open as his thumb shakily grazed your lips.

“Yeah?” he moaned as he slowly pulled out, jerking himself off as he grabbed you by the jaw again, making you spin around as you sat on your ankles, your legs spread open, playing with your clit as his tip fell on your tongue. He bit his lip watching you look up at him with innocent yet devilish eyes, his hand sloshing up and down his creamy and coated dick. You grabbed his wrist and took over, using both of your hands to stroke him until he let out a low, sexy grunt as his head fell back.

“Cum daddy…” you whisperingly pleaded, feeling his dick twitch in your palms, shooting white ropes into your mouth and across your cheeks as you moaned swallowing every drop.

“You’re so fucking sexy…” he groaned, as his hand slowly stopped jerking himself off, watching you taste every ounce of his cum. You wiped the corners of your mouth with your thumb, sucking off the rest as you smiled at him.

“Why you do this to me, huh?” he smirked grabbing your cheeks to kiss you, your juices blending with the swirls of your tongues.

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” you giggled against his lips as he grinned back, scooping you up his arms to throw you back on the bed.

✧✧✧

You both cleaned up and decided to stay in the room until everybody cleared out to avoid any awkward and tense conversations about what happened earlier. You texted Jasmine that you’d be sleeping over since Jimmy was staying over at Solo’s because they travel together for the upcoming live events. But he wasn’t the only one apart of their little carpool. Jey was also staying over. You hadn’t seen him since he was on the ground from Jimmy swinging on him.

You were showered and ready to go to bed. Ready to go to bed yet couldn’t. You kissed Jimmy goodnight as he spooned you in his changed and cozy sheets. He knocked out immediately. You don’t know how much time went by as you delicately caressed your fingertips up and down his sleeved arm that was wrapped around your waist. He was sound asleep but you were wide awake, staring at the darkened space in front of you. You couldn’t sleep. All you could think about was him. The image of Jimmy’s fist hitting his face kept replaying in your mind. You couldn’t toss and turn because you didn’t want to wake Jimmy up. You couldn’t just lay here like this. It was driving you insane. Maybe some water will help. You were thirsty after all, the only drinks you’d been having all night were alcohol. You slowly lifted his arm off of you and placed it at his side as you quietly stepped out of the bed, looking back to make sure he was still asleep. He was clearly exhausted. After the day he’s had, you didn’t blame him. You sighed and checked your phone on the nightstand. 4:10 am. You ran your fingers through your hair and out your face, quietly walking over to the door. You scrunched up your face as if it would silence the sound of the doorknob twisting as you opened it, shutting it behind you. You turned on the flashlight from your phone to head down the stairs. You remembered how Solo let you all know if you needed anything at all, you could just help yourself to his fully stocked fridge. You turned the corner to the kitchen when a silhouette appeared, the fridge light revealing his figure.

“Oh shit-” you quietly gasped, your hand flying to your chest. Jey turned around, wearing nothing but his boxers, closing the fridge door as he held a water bottle in his hand.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know-”

“You thirsty too?” he whispered, opening the fridge again to grab you a bottled water.

“Thanks,” you smiled, grabbing it to open it up. Your fingers stopped twisting the cap as your eyes landed on his very noticeable black and purple eye. You felt that guilt bombard your senses once again as your face dropped at the sight. Worry fell over you as you hesitantly stepped closer to cup his jaw and turn his head to get a better look.

“Oh my god…I’m so sorry,” you sighed feeling tears sting your eyes.

“Don’t. It’s not your fault stop that,” he kissed his teeth before gently grabbing your wrist, dropping it back down.

“Yes it is,” you whispered still looking at him nervously.

“No it’s not baby,” he furrowed his brows at your statement. You felt your skin tingle at the name. Your fingers were still entangled but you couldn’t let go. He stepped closer to gently wipe the tear falling from your face and pulled you to his chest to embrace you. You hugged him tightly, his warm bare skin comforting you as you listened to his heartbeat. He cradled your head in his hand, running it over your hair. Your fingers gently lifted on his back, running them up and down his soft skin making him sharply inhale.

“Get some sleep,” he mumbled against your hair, his hands dropping down your back to gently grip your waist to pull you away. Your arms only moved halfway off of him, still looking up at him. You both just gazed in each others eyes, his hand finding its way to cup your cheek. It was so quiet. Yet it was so loud. You could hear a pin drop. But you could also hear the sound of your heart beating inside your chest. The heart that kept beating for him when it wasn’t supposed to. His thumb softly caressed your cheek, as he peered down to your lips that you just licked. You tried to send the message with your eyes. You wanted him to read how desperate and loving they were. You speedily looked from his left eye to the right, trying to see if he received it. And he did. He pulled you in by the nape of your neck as your lips crashed together. You softly moaned at the return of his long, savory tongue in your mouth. The corners of your mouths quickly covered in saliva from the sloppy, needy, and yearning need for one another. You wrapped your arms around his neck as your breathing grew heavier. His panting just as rapid at the millisecond breaks your mouths took to turn your heads in the other direction in your make-out session. His hands dropped to the bottom of your oversized shirt to yank it up to your waist, grabbing a handful of your ass as it peeked out of your cotton pink cheeksters. You moaned in his mouth from his touch and he took that opportunity to scoop you up in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. He groaned at the feel of your drenched panties rubbed up against his stomach, hurriedly placing you on the kitchen counter. Your legs stayed wrapped around his torso as you almost fell back from your faces avidly crashing.

“Jey…” you whisperingly moaned as he grabbed you by the throat with one hand and cupped your breast with the other as he snaked his way up your shirt.

“Whatchu’ want baby…” he shakily asked between kisses as you continued to grind against his bare upper body, the pressure helping alleviate your need just a tiny bit.

“Fuck me please…” you panted as he dragged his tongue down your jaw making your back arch.

“Let’s go to my room,” he mumbled against your neck as he sucked your soft spot.

“No…I can’t wait,” you whispered as you pulled the hem of his boxers, slipping your hand inside the fabric to feel his hard, throbbing dick. He whimpered at your touch and your fingers lightly brushed the tip seeping with pre cum, making you breathe out another low-pitched moan.

“Mmmm please I’ll be quiet…” you begged in his ear as your thumb circled around his dripping tip.

“Nah…” he softly moaned as you dropped your hand along his shaft to softly stroke it.

“I’m gonna fuck this pussy up the way I want-“ he growled before scooping you back up in his arms as he quickly tip-toed up the stairs. You covered your mouth at his quick reaction as you bobbled in his arms as he went up every step. You shut your eyes refusing to look at his door, hoping no one caught you both sneaking off to Jey’s room that was the last door down the long hall. Before you knew it silence in his darkened room took over as he quietly locked his door and pinned you against it as he left sloppy sucks down your neck. You were out of breath as your eyes fluttered, heavily panting in the silence as he covered your neck with his saliva. Your fingers found their way in his hair, lightly pulling on it before a gasp popped out your mouth as he scooted you further up along the door to swirl his tongue along your collarbone and chest. You used your foot to push onto the door and get yourselves moving to the bed as he walked over not daring to remove his tongue off of you. He threw you onto the bed and you let out a giggle louder than you meant to, quickly covering your mouth as you realized.

“Thought you said you were gonna be quiet?” he playfully teased with a grin, as he towered over you, making you lean further back on the bed.

“Thought you said you were gonna fuck this pussy up?” you teased back against his lips as he slithered his hands under your shirt to cup your breasts.

“And I will…” he whispered, dipping his head back down to snatch the bottom of your shirt with his teeth, leaning back in your flushed face.

“Take this shit off,” he muttered with the fabric between his grillz, his eyes hyper-focused on your lips as his forefingers and thumbs twiddling with your hard nipples. A moan rolled off your tongue at his touch, as you crossed your arms grabbing the side hems to take off…Jimmy’s oversized shirt. But he didn’t even cross your mind. You suddenly forget Jey had a brother at all because he had your full undivided, horny, and yearning attention. You threw it across the room, watching his pretty enticing eyes peer from your left breast to the right, licking his lips ready to feast on you.

“Mmmm, you’re so fuckin beautiful…” he moaned, rubbing his big, smooth hands up and down your thighs. Slowly sliding them over your stomach as it sank in from the tingles, flattening his tongue on your right nipple as he delicately flicked it up and down while massaging your left breast.

“Oh my god…” your head fell back at the feel of his wet and warm tongue gliding around your nipple as he sucked on it. Your right shin fondled with the bulge in his boxers. The contact made him slide his tongue back up your neck and on your lips as he drove his tongue in your mouth, grabbing you by the waist to push you further back on the bed.

You cheekily grinned as you bit your lip, watching his long fingers grab his hard-on that was prominently peeking out of his boxers, his bracelet shining right at you as he rubbed up on his bulge.

“This whatchu’ want baby?” he whispered as he stared into your soul, his hand slipping inside to grab his length as he hovered on top of you, his chain tickling your chest.

“Yes daddy…” you naturally breathed out, the same name you called his brother just a few hours ago.

“Slip ‘em off for me baby,” he mumbled against your lips as he hooked his other finger inside the band of your panties to tug on them. Without a hesitant fiber in your being, you obliged, bucking your hips up to slide them off your legs and toss them across the room. You reached for his boxers to pull them down as he let you. His long, thick dick sprang out as the tip brushed against your tummy, the droplets of his warm pre cum sliding against your skin.

“This pretty pussy stay dripping for me huh?” he asked as his long, thick fingers found your slick folds, opening them up to roam up and down your mess, the same way he did earlier in the night.

“Fuck…” you whined as he sped up the vertical strokes suddenly replacing them with his creamy, dribbling tip continuing his up-and-down slides along your entrance. You gasped a little louder this time, the head of his dick inching its way into your hole.

“Shhhh…” he grabbed your jaw to make you look in his eyes as he slipped his entire length inside of you making you moan once again, louder than you expected. He pressed his lips against yours mid-moan in an attempt to shut you up, but the way his tongue slithered in your mouth only made your noises lose more control.

“Feel good baby?” he seductively mumbled as he slowly stroked his dick in and out of your doused pussy, his lips swiping on your parted ones with each thrust.

“Yessss so good…” you whispered as he picked up the pace, creating pleasureful flutters in your tummy with every push inside of you. The legs of the bed were so quiet yet soundable as they rocked against the hardwood floors. He frantically buried himself within you, your arms hooked under his shoulders, your nails digging into his upper back as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your walls were already so sensitive from how hard Jimmy fucked you earlier. It felt so so good but you winced a tiny bit at Jey’s similar aggressive thrusts that it made you croak out a cry.

“You okay baby? Too rough?” he breathlessly asked, his eyes lowly glazing over yours for any confirmation. You couldn’t speak as his dick quite frankly knocked the wind out your throat from your whispered cries, a tear falling down your cheek before he kissed it away.

“I gotchu’…I gotchu’ bae,” he reassuringly whispered, his hard and quick thrusts slowing down to gentle, deep, elongated strokes that made you shakily moan from this new, different, out-of-world pleasure that erupted sparks in your body that melted into the sheets.

“Oh my…gooood,” you moaned, your mind swirling with a euphoric, foggy sensation with how fucking good his slower strokes felt, dragging out the way his length nicely slipped between your walls that contracted around it, not wanting it to slip away.

“This feel good, hm? Nice and slow baby?” he deeply asked as he nuzzled his face in your neck, a small grunt falling from his lips.

“Yesyesyes,” your high-pitched, whispered gasp erupted as he hit your g spot ever so slowly with each delicate thrust. He left sloppy kisses down your neck, his grillz leaving little love bites that made you pull on the ends of his blue-tipped mullet. He grabbed your right thigh to scoop his arm behind your knee, giving himself more space to fill you up with every inch of his dick.

“Mmmmm…Jey,” you moaned, tugging a little harder on his hair as he hovered over you again, his breath hitching watching you in deep arousal.

“I…I…” you heavily panted as he hummed, almost agreeing with your unsaid sentence. Your right hand rested on the nape of his neck, as your left grazed over his bearded jaw.

“I love you,” he professed softly, fastening his strokes just by a little knowing that’s all you needed before your climax exploded throughout your entire body, making your legs uncontrollably fondle with his lower back. You felt his dick spasm between your sensitive walls as his forehead fell on yours, his moans a little louder than yours before you decided to shut him up this time as your lips weaved together. Your chests heaved against one another, a faint smile forming on your lips as your eyes barely stayed open. You stayed in the same position for a little while, just admiring each other’s eyes before he softly kissed you again, making your cheeks flush as your fingers grazed his sweaty, glistening back.

“Don’t tell me this dick knocked you out, wake up baby,” he jokingly whispered, tilting your chin up and forcing you to gaze up at him.

“I’m awake,” you mumbled with a grin.

“Man…you’re so perfect,” he complimented, still slightly panting.

“Shut up,” you giggled, feeling overwhelmed with his loving presence. There was silence before you noticed the sunrise starting to peek out from the curtains as it accentuated his face. The black eye was nothing compared to his vibrant and pretty features. Your thumbs caressed over his lower jaw, his beard hairs smoothly prickling against your skin.

“I have to go back…” you lowly whispered, feeling a tug on your heartstrings watching his smile fade away as he nodded in agreement.

“Let me get you a towel first,” he whispered, pecking you before getting up and walking towards the bathroom. You sighed, resting your palm on your forehead feeling a mixture of emotions. You really fucked both of them. You really fucked both Usos. You weren’t gloating, just extremely confused about your feelings. Sleeping with Jimmy for the first time after so many years of light-hearted flirtatious moments was great. The sex was appetizingly filthy, rough, and electrifyingly steamy. But with Jey…it was more passionate, comforting, more so making love to one another. And the three words that fell from Jey’s mouth…made you melt. The twins have always told you they loved you and you’ve always said it back. But this was most definitely different.

“Psst.” You snapped out of it and turned to see Jey walking out with a towel around his waist, another in his hand as he pretended to shoot his shot at you, literally. You caught it with ease and shook your head at his goofy ass. You cleaned up and slipped your oversized shirt back on, almost feeling dirty, in a guilty way, fucking one brother then putting the other one’s shirt over your head. You tied your hair in a messy bun and tip-toed to the door, the sun’s golden light more luminous in the room as it highlighted his face.

“You gonna sleep?” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Nah. Gon’ hop in the shower…you could join me if you want,” he softly expressed, grabbing a handful beneath your shirt.

“Tempting, but I can’t,” you giggled as he lightly spanked you and scoffed at to answer. You stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like forever before you shared one last flavorsome, soft, and passionate kiss.

“Yeet,” you whispered turning back around one last time as your hand grabbed the doorknob. He chuckled, holding on to his towel.

“Yeet,” he threw back with a wink and you departed as you looked left and right in the hallway before stepping out. You reached Jimmy’s room, the door slightly squeaking as you turned the knob, making you curse under your breath. You peeked in, seeing him still asleep. You blew a little air out of your mouth, relieved that he was clueless. You climbed back in, making him stir in the sheets as he grabbed you by the waist to pull you closer. You dozed off, your brain playing hopscotch with the two brothers.

✧✧✧

The following morning the boys had to leave for the airport for their live events. You ended up heading back home after having brunch with his Solo’s wife. The next following weeks were…chaotically indulging. If you weren’t with Jimmy, you were with Jey. If you weren’t with Jey, you were with Jimmy. You spent Sunday and Monday nights in Jey’s hotel room for Raw. You spent Thursday and Friday night traveling to Smackdown with Jimmy. Your weeks consisted of one twin pulling on your hair while you got pounded from behind in his locker room while the other fucked you against the steamy shower walls, both drenched from the hot water. They didn’t know about your rendezvous with the other twin…or so you thought. You picked up on the feeling that they secretly knew, because Jimmy didn’t call you on Sunday or Monday nights. Jey didn’t call you on Thursday and Friday nights. They just knew you were the other. And to think it wouldn’t get even more chaotic, you were at backstage at Fastlane where they both had matches. You were watching on the monitor set up in Jimmy’s locker room as Jey and Cody won the tag team titles, the biggest smile spreading on your lips knowing he was now a 2x undisputed tag team champion. You wanted to so badly find him and congratulate him right after, but you were with Jimmy up until his match. The match were him and Solo lost. Jimmy was crankier than usual, and you knew it wasn’t just because of the feeling of losing that match. That loss hit differently because he felt like he was falling behind his twin brother, not only in the ring but with you. You hated that he was in a mood the night before your birthday. You were throwing a big party, where everybody was invited. And to unintentionally make the situation a little harder for Jimmy, he didn’t expect Jey and Cody to show up with their tag titles gloating through the crowd.

“They what?” you asked, your jaw dropping at Jasmine telling you what was going on downstairs as the guests started picking up.

“Yeah girl, Jimmy still sitting in that corner drinking his beer. You gon’ come down or what we waiting on you!” she exclaimed watching you add a touch more of highlight on your nose. You heard her sniff and you looked at her through the mirror, dramatically holding her hand up to her mouth.

“Are you crying?” you turned around with a little laugh.

“You look so hot and you’re getting older, do you blame me?” she patted her tear away to avoid ruining her makeup. You giggled getting up from your stool to hug her as you felt tears sting your eyes.

“Fuck now I’m gonna cry,” you choked out before she broke the hug.

“No no no. You worked too hard on this makeup. I’m not crying anymore. Go put that sexy ass dress on so you can come down!”

You changed in your purple sequined lace-up tube body con dress, fluffed up your hair, and put on your necklace and diamond earrings.

“You can open your eyes now,” you giggled before you gave her a little twirl and she started loudly clapping.

“Oh my god, bitch you look stunning!” she hyped up. “Now let’s go down everyone’s wondering where you are.”

“Wait,” you grabbed the shot glass from your dresser and poured yourself some tequila. You couldn’t go down there sober. Not when they were both here. You’re winced from the sizzling burn in your throat. You walked out with Jasmine down the stairs, the music blasting, and everyone was happily conversing and drinking.

“Heyyyyy there she is!”

You giggled at everyone’s dramatic reactions continuing to walk down the stairs, giving hugs to everyone around as they wished you a happy birthday. You clanked your way to the kitchen to grab more drinks from the fridge, your heels already annoying you.

“God…damn,” you hear a deep and sensual voice slightly startle you as you peeked above the fridge door still bent down with beers in your hand. Jey stood there with the sexiest smirk on his face, goofily dropping his eyes back down to your ass in the air as it peeked out of your tiny dress.

“Shut up,” you giggled, closing the fridge with your heel, two bottles in each hand.

“Let me get those for you,” he walked closer to grab them out of your hand and placed them on the counter before he gripped you by the waist, your lips inches away. Your breath hitched in your throat from his sweet cologne, his wet pink lips that he just licked as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, admiring your beauty.

“Happy birthday beautiful,” he whispered before planting a nice, soft, and slow kiss on your lips. You moaned as your tongues naturally slipped into each other’s mouths, his hand sliding its way from your waist to your ass to grope you.

“Thank you…” you breathed out, grinning against his lips.

“Trus’ me this dress is…mmmmm…but I wanna rip this shit off and bend you over this counter right now,” he mumbled, biting your lower lip causing another moan to escape your lips as his grillz sank down on your glossy lips.

“Later…” you whispered with a giggle trying to remove yourself from his grasp to get back to the drinks when the kitchen door opened, making you both turn your heads at the interruption. Luckily your bodies weren’t in touch anymore because with the way he raised his brows at the both of you, you figured he knew what was going on.

“Well well well, what’s goin’ on?” Jimmy asked, clearly drunk as he crossed his arms. Jey kissed his teeth, turning his back on his brother as you let out an annoyed sigh.

This was gonna be a long fucking night.

✧✧✧✧✧

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rubyvhs · 21 days ago

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deal with it ch1 | dean winchester

Summary. Firefighter, Dean winchester saves you from bleeding out to death in the forest. And he gets a call. Tags. 4k words, blood, injury, mention of sex, inaccurate firefighter talk. Laila’s notes. Finally chapter one, beta’d by @crowleysmistress but all mistakes are still mine. looked over by @justwhisperingfantasies, thank you love for reading the entirety of it<3

Sam throws his paper cup at his brother to grab his attention, which works. Dean curses him out, scratching his neck. “What the hell, man!”

“You zoned off. I was asking when your shift starts.” Dean groans, standing up and taking his plate to the sink to avoid the stupid conversation. Dean’s schedule is the same it's always been, Sam is just doing the whole ‘small talk' leading up to ‘are you okay’ strategy. It’s unwelcome and, in Dean’s opinion, unnecessary.

Sam doesn’t back down. He gets up, throws his cup away to stand next to Dean. Then an expected, "You okay?" It’s a little less loaded said by the sink so Dean nods, slaps his back, and decides that’s enough socializing for the day.

At least until he's forced to make contact when he gets to the station.

It’s better at the station. Much better. He’s more focused on the recruits he’s training, partly because it entails being a hard-ass and a little condescending. Being able to gauge out the ones who want to learn and the kids who came here to upset their parents. He gets wanting to rebel but these are people's lives, he doesn't play around when training new firefighters.

Dean’s secret job is to make sure as many people as possible drop out of the recruit training. Which is why they’re doing push-ups directly after finishing a two-hour training session. There’s only two women recruits, he doesn’t really care about the gender as long as they give it their all, and so far only one of them looks like she’ll be up for it. He doesn’t think any of the guys are making it though— and even if they do it it isn’t their calling the way he believes it to be the girl’s.

“C’mon, recruits, ten more.” He shouts, circling them though he’s hardly paying attention, mostly on his phone texting his mum to tell her he’ll check in later; his head snaps at the sound of a recruit collapsing on the floor. His lips press into a hard line as he hits send, “Was that a hundred?” He scolds, noticing that the rest are still going. Good.

“No, sir.” The poor man looks beat but Dean can’t take chances with these guys, they’re supposed to carry cement out of buildings and people away from harm, they can’t drop whenever they feel like it. “Sorry.”

When the other recruits finally drop down he tells everyone to go grab a water. This is supposed to be his co-worker's job, Ruby, so he’s letting a first offense slide. She'll know how to deal with them better, besides he’s only here because Ellen, the division chief, forced him to be.

She’s one of his closest friends, almost like a mother to him, even, but she’s been a real pain ever since the tragedy, trying to take it easy on Dean when she knows that’s not how he copes, but he gets it— she’d rather not have his death on her conscience. And he’ll be the first to admit he could be a bit reckless sometimes even if it’s for the good of people.

One of the recruits walks up to him and he recognizes her as the girl Cortese keeps talking about. Whatever her name is. “Hi, I just wanted to ask where Ruby is. Is she okay?”

She doesn’t seem like she’s asking to be a bitch or to whine, just genuine concern. He can't bring himself to bite her head off for it, even if the question is a little disrespectful (she's not a firefighter yet, she should be focused on how to get the Cal Fire program, not worry if the nicer teacher is here). “Ruby’s fine, she’s working. This is your last week in Cal Fire as recruits, I’ll be taking over to test your limits and help with training."

That and he gets to take his frustration out on somebody.

She nods, about to say something when he hears his name from behind. He looks away from the recruit to see his mum; his eyes widen, jaw slackening. Seriously? again? She walks over to him and pulls him in for a quick hug.

Why the hell does she bother texting if she never tells him she’s visiting?

He doesn’t mind his mother showing up at work, just wishes that maybe she could’ve called or told him she wants to visit and he'll go to her. But of course, there’s no telling Mary Winchester what to do so he accepts his fate by hugging her back and kisses her head when he lets go. “Hey, mum.”

“Nice to hear your voice, Dean, since you haven’t called in a month.”

Yeah, okay, time to bring another firefighter in. He tells his mum to walk with him until he reaches the kitchen and taps Benny in for training. He starts making him and his mother a cup of coffee while she's already giving him a look that has ‘my baby’ written all over it, and contrary to popular belief, Dean Winchester is Fine.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call, schedule's been a little busy.”

“Honey, it’s ten and you’re still in the station, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here so early.” While fires don’t have a strict schedule, Dean is usually more occupied with cases in the morning and doesn’t spend an extra second, beyond making coffee, in the station. Even then he has someone else make it.

Truthfully, he just doesn’t have it in him to do this. He can’t talk to his mother or Sam or goddamn anyone right now about what happened.

“Yeah, well, I’m great, mum. How’s work?” Mary’s an interior designer in her brother’s company but he’s sure she’s taken a break since the incident, if not only to have enough time to dote on Sam and Dean.

They keep talking, and his mother reassures him she’s keeping track of the house and that she’ll be staying at their apartment this week.

The Winchesters don’t intentionally live together, it was a total accident at first. Really comical if you ask Dean (a tragedy according to Sam). They both put a deposit on the apartment thinking they'd be two floors down from each other, before the landlord cleared it up for them. but it doesn't matter anymore since they decided they’ll share the space, it was already more than they both needed.

Though Dean’s sure Sam won’t stay forever; he’ll want to move out with his girlfriend sooner or later, Dean secretly hopes it’s later. Sam’s his baby brother, and right now, his lifeline. It’s not fair to pile all that on him but it’s the only thing he knows to do, his only way to cope at the moment.

He’s microwaving a plate of the leftovers, something one of the guys made before the alarms go off throughout the entire station, the division chief’s voice ringing through it with the location and incident.

Except most of the guys went off to another location.

Guess he’s out of retirement early. He kisses his mom’s head, tells her he’ll see her at home and when he’s back in the bay area he finds the last two firefighters getting out of their suits like they're done for the day. It would make sense for them to think so, Lafitte wouldn't keep them if he's already leaving but he notices one of the recruits still in the uniform.

“Alright Lafitte, Blackwater Ridge, let’s go— recruit! Come with me.”

Time to test the girl's abilities the way he’s been wanting since he first saw her. She runs over, nodding enthusiastically. “You’re with me, get ready.”

“With— with you? To a fire?” She stammers.

“No, we’re making a stop at a diner.” He scoffs, walking away to his spot to start getting the uniform on. “Someone call Cortese, let her know where we are. They should be done by now.” It’s been hours since half of the team has left and it was a minor fire (an isolated house) and since Cal Fire has the inmate program, they do most of the non-firefighting work so they have to be finished.

Dean looks over at the recruit for a second. He's not sure why he smiles when he sees she put the gear on in record time. Ruby taught them well, and she's determined as hell, he'll give her that. "Hey, recruit. What's your name?"

Her dirty blond hair flies as she spins to look at him, "Jo Harvelle, Chief."

Harvelle? Ain't that a fuckin' treat?

"As in DC Ellen Harvelle?"

"That's my mother." Great. Now he knows where she gets her strength from. Ellen is a beast of a woman, he doesn't know anyone better to be their chief of division, to lead them through difficult cases and wildfires. He respects her indefinitely and to know that's her daughter— he'll try not to treat her any different.

“Alright, Harvelle, stay close, got it?” She nods frantically, her nervousness imminent, but Dean wouldn’t have done this if he didn’t think she’s got it. She does, she’ll be a damn good firefighter one day and he’s honored he can help her in any way.

When they get to the scene it’s only half past eleven, but there's already a couple of people walking up to him angrily. Police are already here as well as an ambulance; he hadn’t heard much, only that a girl fell down a cliff— on a trail he and his friends used to walk along all the time.

“Detective.” He nods at Harris, shaking the older woman’s hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Katrina, she fell down the trail while she and her friends were taking pictures for Instagram.” Dean would tsk disappointingly if the name didn’t slow down his beating heart. “Chief Winchester?”

“Katrina? Katrina Novak?” She checks her file before her eyes widen. “That’s Cas’s daughter.”

“Shit.”

Cas comes back with Ruby and no one has the heart to tell him what’s wrong until they use the drone and he sees her. Sees his daughter limp and unmoving, her face covered in bruises and blood. Dean’s about to comfort his best friend, tell him they’ll get her out, and be a good chief, but he can't get the words out, it's never been his strong suit.

He talks with Ruby and she tells him what she thinks is the best option, which is absolute crap. Ruby's idea's safe, they don't need safe right now, this is Cas' daughter. "Dean you can’t seriously be thinking of sending me down there in a helicopter!" She hisses, but Dean knows her well enough to understand it’s because she'll need someone else with her. There will inevitably be two firefighters put in risk and while Ruby knows she can handle it she's not sure anyone else can. Especially with Benny stranded.

"Take Harvelle."

"DC is here?" She furrows her eyebrows but Dean only points to Jo. "Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me."

He isn't. And they both end up on the helicopter with the longest harness they own.

Such a bad idea. Worst fucking idea. Ruby says as much, and he shuts her down immediately.

Dean wasn't even aware eyes got so big but Jo's did and he has to give her a strict look that says he's not messing around. Katrina could be losing more and more blood as they speak, there's no time to help calm Jo down or tell her that she'll do great.

They both fly directly above the hundred-foot cavern. Ruby dangled in the air as they get her to a slow descent down to Katrina. The second she's on the ground he hears her through the radio. "I can see her, she’s breathing." Dean holds his breath. “And vitals are stable!”

Cas' eyes widen and he hugs Dean, which makes him laugh softly. "We'll get her back up here, don't worry." Now they just need to bring her up using the anchor they built before. They throw one down to Jo is slung down just far enough to reach Benny and get him loose so he can help Ruby when she reaches him with the girl then she's back on the ground. Dean throws her a proud grin.

Finally, the inmates make it. Just in time to start pulling all four of them up. It goes great until they notice a small crack and look back to see the tree breaking away from the ground.

The tree's fucking huge, and it's held down by the truck too, goddamn it. "Okay, okay, slow down." Everyone stops pulling and he runs back to inspect the damage. Damn it, were they packing on more weight?

"Harvelle," she stands up straight, facing him, "tie another knot." She does and it'll make it only a little bit stronger but they're almost here, they'll make it.

"Keep going!" Everyone starts pulling again and he talks into the radio, "Cortese, are y'all packing on more weight?"

It takes a few seconds before: "Yes, chief. A girl. Early twenties, stable vitals; but she looks like she has a concussion." Perfect.

"And you didn't mention her before why?"

"Thought Lafitte told you." She knows damn well he didn't but it isn't that big of a deal, they don't have any more harnesses to throw down anyway and the outcome would've been the same, he doesn't doubt Ruby made all of these calculations on her own.

Cas’s daughter is fine, medically speaking. An ambulance takes her away and Dean's quick to check on the other girl— the one they didn't know was freakin' there. "Hello? Ma'am can you hear me?"

She can, barely. She utters a weak ‘where am I’ and the ambulance checks on her too. "Alright, great job, everyone. Pack up."

Even with the case done and everyone out of harm’s way, he can't help but look back at the ambulance driving away with two girls and one of his firefighters— one of his best friends— in them.

It seems last minute decisions are Dean’s specialty today. "Ruby, take over, I'm going to follow Cas."

"Winchester, we're all comin' if you just let us get to the station first—"

"Meet us there, then." She doesn't argue beyond that and he runs to catch up with detective Harris.

"Chief, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You're going to the hospital, right? To question the girls?" She nods. "I need to come with."

"Of course, let's go." It's as easy as that. Annie Harris gets in the driver’s seat, him in the passengers and they drive to the hospital quickly.

Cas looks devastated and it shakes Dean a little. He's not here for emotional support. He should be, but he's not any good at it. He's here for work... or guilt. They hadn't even searched the place properly and didn’t know there was another girl.

But he checks on Katrina, thank God she's okay. Then when he goes to enter the other girl's room, Anael stops him. "You don't know her, Dean."

He shakes his head, saying that doesn't matter. Anael isn't that easy though, he noticed pretty quick. He's known her for years and worked with her for most of them, she's a tough detective and someone he always wants to have on his side, except she does her job a little too well. He's a firefighter for God's sake he doesn't need to know her to see her.

He tells her as much.

"That's not true and you know it. You might freak the girl out. She's only twenty five and she has a head concussion."

"She's twenty-five?" He would've guessed nineteen, and even that's stretching it. She looks— god she looks unhealthily thin. He didn’t see much past her hair, anyway. When he peaks behind Anael’s red hair, she’s lying down, her face covered in bandaids. But bandaids are good, they’re used for things that take less than a few days to heal… right?

"Yeah, Dean, look, just stay away from her until we question her—"

"Oh so you can fucking question her, and that won't freak her out at all, huh?" He doesn't know why he's fighting so hard to see her, she's a victim, sure, but more than that, he feels incredibly indebted to her too. Like he's the reason he's here. He believes he is.

"Dean—"

"Stop it, Anael." She scoffs and walks away, leaving Dean so guilt ridden he might as well be in the hospital bed next to her. "Damn it," he looks down at your file but doesn't open it, just tries out your name then steps further inside, right next to your bed. "You awake yet?"

When he doesn't get an answer he takes it as a sign from the universe to leave (and then he'll come back because there's no way Dean Winchester is taking orders from the freakin' universe).

"Where— am I?" He hears your voice and he honest to God feels his heart stop. Like a deer caught in headlights he turns back to face you with a nervous pull of his lips.

"You're in the hospital, Edgewater Medical Center."

"God," you groan, slightly sitting up, a hand on your head where he can see a couple of stitches. He rushes to stop you but you notice it before he can. "What the hell is that?"

"Stitches. I'm sorry, something happened in the forest and you have a concussion. Otherwise, you're fine." There should probably be a doctor here talking you through all of this considering he just said the words 'otherwise you're fine' as if your head cracking open is dandy.

"I'm sorry," he says again but this time it's for his stupidness. He says your name to ask you how you ended up there before you cut him off.

"How'd you know my name?"

"Chart." You're too tired to actually figure out what that means and he doesn't like looking a gift horse in the mouth, "what, uh, what were you doing in the forest?"

it’s almost like you were brought back to consciousness right then as your eyes widen and you throw your body up. He reaches over to you to quickly hold you down. You look down at his hand on your arm like he’s burning you alive so he steps back warily. "There was a guy."

Is that your way of telling him you have a boyfriend? Because he was not hitting on you. "Excuse me?"

"A guy. In the forest with me— we were…" You look away instantly, and he notices you're blinking at an unusual rate. "We were…" Fine, he gets it. Sex. Move on. "I— uh—"

"Alright, I get it. What happened?"

He's apparently wrong for thinking that you can't possibly get more flustered because you start fiddling with your hair. "Yes. That. And we, uh, well I guess that means I fell. I fell down somewhere—"

"Who is he?"

He's not sure what he's even going to do with the name but he has to know what kind of guy would leave a girl he was just having sex with for fucking dead. That kind of asshole needs to be dealt with. In the police kind of way, obviously.

"I, he's a man, and I mean, wasn't he the one who called you guys?" God, Dean wishes. Maybe then he wouldn't be gritting his teeth so hard he's starting to see white.

"No." You frown and he thinks his heart is breaking. You shouldn't look sad, it doesn't suit you. And Dean thinks he might have a heart attack just seeing it. "There was a girl who got hurt in the same area you did. They called us and we found you."

"He… left?"

"Sorry, sweetheart." He says before wincing. He's been warned a couple of times by the DC (division chief), and once by the fire chief about using nicknames with victims. Which means the next time a freakin' janitor complains about it, he's getting time off.

"Yeah, it's okay." He's not sure whether you're strong or stupid but either way he's about to rage at you. 'It's okay?' What's okay? Leaving a girl you were fucking for dead? That's not okay. That's a crime. Well, unfortunately it isn't illegal to watch someone die and not do anything but he's sure with a good lawyer you'd be able to throw him into a cell under so many other charges.

He's getting ahead of himself, you don't even want to tell him who it is. "Did someone call my mum?"

"I'm not sure, I'm not a doctor." He looks down, signaling his uniform that he still has on. "I'll bring him though, I hope you recover soon." He doesn't wait for your response because he's storming over to Annie who he's sure is going to kill him for talking to you but she might also kiss him for getting all that information out of you.

He gets the feeling you won't be too cooperative with the police.

Dean's not glad to be right but you do end up giving them some half assed responses and you aren't exactly required to say anything anyway so they leave. Katrina has to stay in the hospital for two days, you’re okay to go home.

He's not sure what to do here. He has to get back to the station, everyone except for Cas is, but he can't leave you. What you've been through is traumatic in the least, and you didn't even want to tell the police, you didn't want justice, he's pissed for you. And he's scared that means you’ll easily get in the same sort of situation again.

So he does the dumbest thing he's ever done. He knocks on your door when he sees your sister leaving the room and you jump a little.

"Hey, didn't mean to scare you, just noticed you were leaving." He hesitates, though he hopes you can't see it too much.

You don't respond he takes it as a clear 'fuck off' and yet does the opposite and steps inside. "So, I wanted to say—"

"Look, firefighter—"

"Dean Winchester."

"Dean, you can't tell my sister what happened, okay? Seriously, it's none of anyone's business." If he wasn't worried before, he sure as hell is now.

You straighten up when she suddenly enters the room. Dean doesn't acknowledge her beyond a nod but he takes out a card that has his personal number on it, "Call me if you need anything. Please." He leaves feeling whatever little dignity he had left behind in that godforsaken room.

When everyone gets back to the station it's almost midnight, he pats Jo's shoulder. "You did good. And you'll make one hell of a firefighter one day." She smiles so bright, he can't help but mirror it.

"Thank you, chief. It means a lot coming from you. I'll keep working hard to get into Cal Fire, I promise." Yeah well, he already knew she would. He nods before saying good night and walking away to his car.

"Forgetting someone?"

Damn it. He turns around to see his mother in a long black coat, hugging herself to keep warm. "Sorry, Mum, c'mon." When they're both in the car Dean's not sure the day could get anymore exhausting. He's sure it can't.

Until an unknown number calls his phone and his mother picks up. "Mum, don't—"

"Hello? Dean? I have a problem."

Dean snatches the phone from his mother and closes the speaker to put it to his ear. "Who is this?"

When you say your name he lets out a breath of relief. "Yeah, it's me."

"You said I could call."

"Anytime."

"Dean, I need your help."

It doesn't sound like you're in trouble which means you may be ready to tell him who the guy you were with is. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I, uh, I'm in a club, I think I just tried to— do something with someone and I don't know him— and I'm, I wanna go home."

He parks in front of his apartment. "Send me your location, I'm on my way."

thank you to everyone who believed in this story way before it came out. I thought I would write the entirety of it then post but as it turns out, I’m a bitch for praise and so I need to know how y’all think before I pour my entire soul into the rest of it. Couple of chapters already written but hope this one was the great start you guys wanted. Kisses💋 Tags: @ambiguous-avery @bitchykittenconnoisseur @imlchn @nperoconelcositoarriba @depressionbarbie2023

@fionasapple88 @hollywoodxrose @yeehawgiddyup13 @cheesecakedolll @floralscented

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hippolotamus · 9 months ago

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Who would I be if I didn't come barreling in with queer feelings??? Inspired by this post from my wife @bidisasterevankinard, this morning's therapy session and a few too many listens to Cleopatra by The Lumineers 😘

late for this, late for that | 7x06 coda | 757 words | G

“Not late. Right on time,” Evan sighs, content and sated, turning in his arms so they’re back-to-chest. It allows him to settle into his newly discovered love of being the little spoon. And Tommy’s new found love of indulging Evan.

“Good to know.” He presses a kiss into Evan’s mussed, disheveled curls, chuckling at the light snores his – boyfriend? Date? Guy he’s seeing? – is already making.

If he’s being honest, ‘right on time’ is the furthest thing from what he feels. Evan hasn’t said as much, but Tommy suspects he’s started to question things about himself. About his life in general, past interactions, romances, friendships, crushes. Eventually he’ll likely face one of the biggest, if not the biggest, questions. How could I not know?

As someone who went on a similar journey, he’ll do his best to guide Evan through. He wants to wave the proverbial magic wand to produce easy, matter-of-fact answers and soothe any wounds, but Evan will have to do that part on his own. Eventually it becomes a rewarding experience, making those discoveries, but he knows as well as anyone that it can be a bitch of a road to travel. An often dark pathway loaded with unexpected landmines. Full of monsters that go ‘boo’ at the very worst times, usually just when the dust of the last jumpscare has settled.

Not for the first time – and likely not for the last – the notion makes Tommy wish they could have met earlier. That he could somehow turn back the clock to meet himself earlier so he could be there for Evan. He’s already put himself through the wringer, in therapy and in his own mental torture chamber, about why he lied for so long about who he is. But, as his therapist reminds him over and over again, these things are never truly done. There are often new layers unveiled, triggered by different circumstances. Sometimes big and loud, sometimes ordinary and everyday. Tommy thinks Evan might be a bit of both.

Either way, here he is, wondering how his own life might have been different if he hadn’t denied himself for so long. If he could have been brave like Hen and said ‘this is who I am’. Because it’s not as if he didn’t know. Tommy knew exactly who he was, who he is. He’s known since the first time he kissed CJ, his high school football team’s defensive tackle, behind the bleachers after practice one late summer night. God knows he had been questioning for a hell of a lot longer.

However, he can’t time travel and change things. He can’t give past versions of himself options that didn’t exist. Well, technically they did, but it meant blowing up his entire life and being ostracized. While Hen didn’t have anything to lose, because she was already being isolated by that era of the 118, Tommy did.

He had what he thought were friends, though, really, most of them were alliances. People he accepted as friends for the high cost of burying his identity. Paid for with girlfriends and the occasional male sex worker when he really needed to let go. With living an empty, lonely, fraudulent existence, constantly saying no to the things and experiences he craved. Because saying yes - to ‘just one’ gay club, one pride event, one secret boyfriend willing to be called girlfriend for appearances - meant risking being found out. Meant taking a wrecking ball to the carefully curated macho persona he’d built for protection. Meant having all of his ‘meaningful’ supports and relationships ripped away. It was bad enough that his own parents couldn’t be there for him. He didn’t need the camaraderie of firefighting taken away, too.

Evan snorts and snuffles, pulling Tommy back to the present. He turns in his sleep, somehow burrowing closer as he throws an arm across Tommy’s waist. His mouth is slack and parted, breathing calm and even.

A wave of fondness washes over Tommy as he watches his… Evan sleep, blissfully unaware of all the things tumbling around in his brain. It’s an emotion he hasn’t felt in a while, not like this, but he’s grateful for how naturally it seems to want to return.

Maybe they couldn’t meet earlier or change their histories, save themselves or each other from pain. But they’re here now with their combined battle scars, ready for something, whatever that looks like. And isn’t that better than never? So, perhaps what Evan said was true. Maybe he’s not too late and they’re right on time.

part 2 (Eddie's POV) here

#911 spoilers #bucktommy #tevan #bucktommy fic #hippo writes #coda fic #911 7x06 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #the cleopatra series #christ i'm such a sucker for queer feels

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freakingxloser · 11 months ago

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Mickey Altieri - nsfw alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Mickey will definitely help you to get clean and cuddle with you afterwards. Will talk about it for sure, ask you if you are okay and if you enjoyed it as well. But that’s gonna happen only if you guys are actually dating and he cares about you. If you are a random one night stand just for his pleasure, he would just get dressed and leave, not giving a damn about how you feel.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part on himself is definitely gonna be his arms. He is aware of his strength (we all saw how he yeeted the girl out of the balcony lmao). Knows how to use it while killing and in his love life as well, holding you in place, or grabbing you by your hips and pulling you closer, wrapping his arms around your body…All about them.

When it comes to you, I can definitely see that Mickey is a fan of thighs. Loves to see them jiggle, while your whole legs are shaking after a rough session of yours. Mickey loves to play with them, grab on them…or having his head buried in-between them…

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Mickey loves to cum inside you, doesn’t matter if it’s your mouth or your pussy…but actually prefers more to cum in your mouth. It’s the best way to avoid any kind of pregnancy scares plus he absolutely loves when you swallow his load, praises you for it afterwords. He enjoys the view of having his cum spilled all over your tongue. He

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Mickey is extremely jealous and possessive. He hates when other guys even look at you. Doesn’t hesitate to even kill them if they dare to talk to you or even worse…touch you. That drives him absolutely crazy, so he just kills them. Then he may or may not use the same knife during your knife play sessions.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I mean…Mickey is on college. I don’t think he has a lots of experience, but definitely slept with some girls before…so I would just day that he definitely knows what he’s doing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy for sure. Mickey loves to pound you from behind, the sound when his hips hit your ass, loves to slap your ass or grabbing you by your hair while he mercilessly thrusts into you. Or even surprise you with fingering your ass while already destroying your pussy…you’ll never know.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He definitely doesn’t crack jokes, but will definitely mock you if you cannot even form a proper words during your session.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Mickey definitely keeps himself trimmed down there. But not shaved completely. If you make him do it, be prepared for lots of bitching about it being itchy and uncomfortable.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Don’t expect any rose petals or candles, that’s not his thing. Mickey will shower you praises, having a slow sensual missionary with you, having an eye contact with you or his lips never leaving yours, but not any stereotypical romantic shit.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t jack off when he has you. Why would he? He simply grabs you and fucks you whenever he wants to. Even when he needs you immediately. He will drag you into an empty classroom and bend you over the desk if he really needs it. No needs to masturbate if it’s that easy, right?

K = Kinks

My man is definitely into blood and knife play. None can tell me otherwise. Consensual non consent is on his mind really often as well. Would absolutely love to just sneak into your room and take you there without saying a word. Mickey is also for sure into somnophilia, it only makes sense imo. And I think Mickey is really into menophilia, he likes period sex and it absolutely drives him crazy, when he can go down on you during your period. Even when you protest, the little sparkle in his eyes when he suggests so makes you allow it to him. He goes really wild down there, licking all of the blood, sucking on your clit, fingering you…licking his fingers clean afterwards, yep…that definitely sounds like Mickey.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He definitely prefers your or his bedroom, doesn’t like public places with a risk of getting caught. Mickey doesn’t want anyone to see your beautiful body, that’s why. When he really needs to fuck you during classes, he makes sure all the door are secured and none can actually get in.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Basically anything you wear, that at least a little reveals your thighs turns him on. Or when you walk around your room just in your shirt and underwear when he visits you…yep honey, you won’t get him off of you for hours. Also when he sees that you are needy, he is immediately ready to take you…of course you won’t avoid any teasing, of course he would mock you, tease your clit for ages, not allowing you to cum at first, but no worries, he would make you cum several times after he is done with teasing and mocking.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Mickey is okay with blood, cum or saliva. But other body fluids? Hell no. That’s a big no for him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He enjoys both, giving and receiving. Of course he enjoys having you on your knees, seeing you playing with his tip in your mouth and sucking on him…and once he has enough of you just playing around forcing his cock deeper in your mouth and making you gag on it, making your eyes all teary is something he could do 24/7. But going down on you, sucking on your clit, licking you, making you cum numerous times just with his mouth is something that brings him pleasure as well. (Especially during your period, but loves to do it even when you’re not.)

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

As we read many times above, Mickey loves it rough and merciless. But our man gets that it’s not just about the speed, but also about the force. He can also have a slow, sensual session with you, but that doesn’t happen often, it’s really rare.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Mickey likes to take his time with you, but if you both are under a time pressure, he is up to it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

If he has some interesting fantasy, he will for sure include it in your sex life, at least for once. When it comes to taking risk then no, he definitely doesn’t want you to get caught, he doesn’t want anyone else to see your beautiful body. And when it comes to pregnancy risks, also no. He makes sure that you are on the pill or has a plan b ready for you…but spilling his cum all over your tongue is just as satisfying, so he tends to do that more to avoid the risk.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Mickey is a college dude, of course he can fuck like a rabbit. All the time and each round gets longer and longer. He can fuck you for hours, until you feel tired and cannot take it anymore. But he would definitely continue after you falling asleep (with your consent, if he loves/likes you…if you are just a random girl, well…he won’t bother with consent).

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I cannot see Mickey using a big variety of them, but ropes, handcuffs or anal toys that he would use on you? Hell yeah. But from what he could deduce from the movie…I can positively say that his fav “toy“ is a knife…

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, Mickey would tease the shit out of you…especially if you were teasing him whole day at school. He won’t stop until you beg him to finally do something. But this motherfucker loves to hear you beg, so…it’s gonna take you a lot of begging until he actually gives you what you want.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Mickey is not really loud, just when he gets closer and closer to his orgasm. Of course there is a lot of heavy breathing going on, but more he focuses on those lovely noises you make. Mickey absolutely loves to hear you moan or whimper, or hearing your little sobs while you are overstimulated and cannot take it anymore…oh he would die for those.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Mickey wants to know everyone that you are his. He is for sure obsessed with you. So because of that, he leaves marks on you. Sometimes its just random bites or hickeys on you neck, other days it’s bruises…or his name craved into your skin. Loves to just carve his name into your thighs or ass and lick your bloody wounds clean, since his obsession with blood is slightly getting out of hand too.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I think Mickey is slightly above average, definitely thicker… definitely pleasurable.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Mickey has a HIGH sex drive, okay? Probably not higher than desire to go on a killing spree, but still…Mickey would fuck whole day every day if he could. Sometimes during weekends he just refuses to let you leave the bed. When you get up after one round of lazy morning sex, thinking that you’re gonna have as shower and then do something productive, but Mickey is already behind you, making sure you have the right company in the shower, playing with your pussy, gently rubbing your clit, before pushing you against the shower wall and pounding into you again…I do not need to tell you what happens after shower, right?

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

As I said before…If he cares about you, he will make sure that you’re okay, cuddle with you, talk to you and then fall asleep. But If he doesn’t, he just passes out or leaves you immediately.

#scream #mickey altieri #mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri smut #mickey altieri x you #scream 1997 #ghosface

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 2 years ago

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Can you do an Alphabet with Billy Washington? I know he’s minor but I would looove to read one for him. 😁

I managed one for Aemond and we only got him for 11 minutes. Three episodes feels like a lifetime by comparison lol Lemme see what I can do!

Billy Washington NSFW Alphabet

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

His partner will be the one dishing out the aftercare, as Billy's likely to get a bit teary eyed afterwards. Will need to be held close and told how good he's made them feel.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

Sadly, Billy boy doesn't really like anything about himself. Though if his partner is shorter than him, he'll enjoy the height difference and enveloping them in his arms.

Loves every part of his partner. Full on body worshipping, he simply cannot believe that they're his.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

He likes to finish inside - with or without a condom, depending on the birth control situation.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

Looked at his partner's holiday photos before they were together and cranked it to all of their bikini shots.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

Billy's a novice. He's had drunken one night stands, but never been with a partner long enough to learn what they like. He'll need to be taught.

F= Favorite position

Cowgirl. Secretly likes it when his partner takes control, but also likes grabbing their hips and guiding their movements.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

Billy can be a little bit awkward, having a partner that's willing to laugh off the cramps or when he trips trying to get his trousers off will definitely help ease the tension.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

It's a mess down there. You can't really expect much else, he looks like Shaggy from Scooby Doo.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

Most of the time it's soft and slow, but if he's been down the pub or feeling angry then he's fast and rough with it.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

Any chance he gets. Billy is unemployed and has access to the internet and a local corner shop selling lads' mags. What else can you expect?

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Voyeurism. Loves to watch his partner - watch them get changed, watch them shower, watch the peek of their cleavage down their top or the rise of their g-string over their jeans. He'll think he's died and gone to heaven if they let him watch them get off.

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

His bed, his sofa and the back of his car.

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

Any sort of praise. Being made to feel useful. Feeling bigger/stronger than his partner. Neck kisses. Form fitting clothing.

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

Not into degradation, either receiving or giving. He likes to love and feel loved.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

Will melt into a big puddle if he's on the receiving end. Unsure of what to do when giving it, but will follow instruction and is eager to please.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

Goes slow, but doesn't last for long. This will improve with time.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

Not opposed to a quickie in the pub toilets or the back of his car.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

As long as it's nothing too outlandish, he'll try anything once.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

Will glad do two or three times in a session, none of them are particularly lengthy though.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Terrified at the prospect of having anything used on him and seeing anything of his partner's will make him feel inadequate.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

Not a tease himself, but will be a whining mess in no time if he's teased.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

Moans like a little bitch.

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

His favourite thing to do in the morning is wake his partner up by pressing his hard on against their arse.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

6-6.5 inches. He doesn't disappoint. Ruddy in colour at the tip and on the slimmer side.

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

Quite high from all the wanking.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

Laying in his partner's arms after sex is the only time Billy sleeps well, so he drifts off quite quickly afterwards.

#billy washington #trigger point #my headcanons #billy washington smut #ewan mitchell #asked and answered

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firesofdainix · 5 months ago

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i cant help but find it so funny that we're on like literal opposite time zones 😭 but anyway,,, have some fruit for that ask game :3

🍒🥝🫐🍊

I AM SO SORRY for taking so long to answer these asks. college is currently kicking my ASS so bad. <3

and i keep forgetting that where it's noon for ME, it's the middle of the night for you <3

fruit emoji ask game for fic writers

🍒 What’s your favorite character dynamic to write? (Can be romantic or platonic, specific or general!)

my favorite dynamic, whether romantic, platonic, or a secret third thing to write, is definitely Jupiter and Uranus, Jupiter and Saturn, Saturn and Uranus, and Planet X, Jupiter and Saturn. so much romantic tension rolled into all pairs that I wonder if they're just going to start a poly make-out session. there's also Luna and Earth, I think Luna having to get Earth to stop doing stupid things all the time is so funny I giggle a little when Luna gets SO TIRED looking after him.

🥝 What’s your favorite trope/AO3 tag to write?

call me basic bitch, but my favorite trope is writing angst and hurt/comfort! i want those tears to be LICKED. or, I want them to keep crying, your pick! another thing I like writing about is canon compliant. i just want to see what others are doing during canon, filling in canon gaps. it's very interesting 2 me

🫐 What’s your favorite underrated thing in your fandom? (A ship that only you seem to write for, a character there’s almost no fics about, a trope that criminally hasn’t been written yet, etc.)

UM UH UH. What's the most underrated thing in the solarballs fandom rn? I need more Titan fics that don't have Luna in them. I really don't care about them together LMAO I'm sorry. AND MORE JUPITURAX!!!

this'll be more multi-fandom: ok so I REALLY wish that there's more PTSD Ford Pines fics in Gravity Falls, and I guess about how much impact the Portal Incident had on him and his character as a whole? and I was dreaming last night of Ford with prosthetic legs, and I wish someone would write that bc I'm too stupid to do so- basically Ford fics about his time in the portal! or maybe I just inhaled ALL fics about Ford in a week immediately.

then for demon slayer... FANFIC WRITERS!!! DROP ANOTHER YORIICHI AND MICHIKATSU ONE SHOT AND MY LIFE IS YOURS.

🍊 Who’s a character you don’t write for that often, but keep meaning to write for more? (They’re so interesting! But maybe you have trouble pinning them down, or keep getting distracted by another blorbo…)

I wish I could write more about Earth, and I have MANY ideas about what he is like when fics are centered about him, but I just don't know how to put it on paper. like, at all. so I just kick Jupiter in the guts :D!

#chel babbles #solarballs #not tagging the other fandoms mentioned here lol

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othcrside · 2 months ago

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❀ *◦ madelyn cline. genderfae. she/her. asexual grayromantic. ⇝ hey, isn’t that paige petras? i think that the ( twenty - eight ) year old from prague, czech republic works as waitstaff at the milk bar + research expert for the midnight thrillers mystery buster gang, but outside of that people describe them as making something just for the sake of creation, death inside a cylindrical glass, expressing yourself but never finding quite the right words, sublime confusion, eureka moments, bright fire, fast burnout, screaming into a pillow as loud as you can, the loneliness in a crowded room. i hear they are apathetic & cynical, but they are also known to be mellow & droll. consider giving them a visit at their home in winterwood estates and get to know why they’re called the all-american bitch.

╰ * STATS + PINTEREST.

tw: drugs, addiction, crime, murder/suicide + miscarriage mention

i feel for your every little issue, i know just what you mean.

born in the smoky grey haze that covered the earth after the fall of the soviet union, kirya nováková was the third child and first daughter of a criminal and a seamstress. she didn't know any of the danger that she was in, but she knew that no one was happy in her home. with her father away for work often and mostly absent and her mother perpetually sick, her oldest brother dominik took over the mantle. for the entire duration of her childhood, kirya remained blissfully ignorant of the world she had been born into, acting as a dutiful eldest daughter and taking care of her six younger siblings. the domestic life, cooking dinners and bathing squirmy little creatures, mitigating their playtime; that all ended the moment she got her first good mark in chemistry.

she always had a penchant for destruction; obsessed with fire and gasoline and heat and invention from a young age, it didn't take much reading for kirya to realize that she adored science. as a child, she could often be found conducting an experiment in her bedroom or one of their spare bathrooms. had she accidentally set their house cat on fire once? yes, actually. but she threw the cat in the bathtub after, so really, it was fine.

and i make light of the darkness, i've got sun in my motherfuckin' pocket, best believe

drugs were scary but incredibly fun to make, kirya thought. while she didn’t oversee the entire process, she was always the first one up in the morning to see their progress. it had kind of felt nice, if she was honest. like they were bonding as a real family, one whose dirty laundry she always picked up without complaint. dominik noticed this and wasn’t shy about exploiting it, which is why he told her one morning, when kirya was just a week shy of her eighteenth birthday, to try what she had made. apprehensive at first, she tried to say no — cooking and consuming were entirely different, and she knew what path she’d be taking if she said yes.

it didn’t matter, though, because he made her anyway. after that she was hooked. she must have been fucking good, hell, she was the fucking best for making something so addictive. what made it all the better was that she didn’t even have to buy it herself, she could have it anywhere, anytime. dominik didn’t want their cover blown, so he threw a couple grand at her and told her to go to university. you’re a superhero now, he said, you need a secret identity. she figured he was right, so she went to university, where she met her first husband, jack starling.

yeah, you know me, i forgive, and i forget, i know my age and I act like it, got what you can't resist, i'm a perfect all-american—

a grad student, very much so kinder, and a helluva lot more patient than kirya, it was difficult for her not to love him immediately. the only complication was that he was a foreign exchange student, coming from england. this didn't stop kirya from making advances anyway, which, much to her surprise, actually wound up working. their romance was a whirlwind, beginning with late night study sessions and ending in elopement. she had even gotten him hooked on her supply. she spent her nineteenth birthday in a villa on the coast of spain while all her classmates were getting trashed over winter break, and she didn't think life could get any better than this.

but when dominik found out about the marriage, he was quick to suggest nullification. kirya was against the idea, pushing back for the rest of her time at school. after graduation, she had figured the situation resolved itself — until she walked into their shared apartment in prague and discovered a note left by her husband, explaining why he had left and where she could identify his body once it was found. shortly after, her brother's friends emerged from the shadows and dragged kirya all the way back to her childhood home, confirming everything she already knew about her husband's sudden death. she was to remain on the property at all times, her only purpose now since receiving an education to cook as much as she possibly could.

i am light as a feather, i'm as fresh as the air, coca-cola bottles that i only use to curl my hair

she was lonely at first. her brother would try and strike up conversation, forcing her to respond if she didn't want to be the subject of his wrath. he liked doing that, kicking her around, reminding her how much of a fuck up she was. the only thing that seemed to stop him in his tracks was when kirya uttered the words, i'm pregnant. furious, she was worried he would drag her to the nearest hospital for an abortion — but the alternative was even worse. he held her down, syringe between his teeth, jabbing the needle into the crux of her arm. she sobbed and wailed, thrashing around until the dope melted in her bloodstream and she went weak, then started to smile.

kirya met her second husband shortly after miscarrying. she felt like a shell of the girl she once was, and with the traumatic end of her pregnancy she had also felt as if her first husband had truly gone away forever, leaving her in the world alone. enter: archibald dewitt. a wall street banker visiting prague for business, she stumbled across him in their living room buying a couple grams of cocaine from dominik. whenever her brother left the room, kirya approached archibald and batted her eyelashes at him, finding herself charmed by his american accent and two-piece suit. by the end of their meeting, archibald was paying extra for a night alone with kirya, and, much like with jack, she had him wrapped around her finger in less than twelve hours.

i forgive and i forget, i know my age and i act like it, i know my place, i know my place and this is it! she was on a plane to america within the month. archibald had told her that she could have anything she wanted now, so she chose a new name for her a new life. starr. she didn't know what to pick as a last name, but she didn't have to worry about that as she looked over and saw archibald bent on one knee. she would be his trophy wife, starr dewitt, and at last, she would live happily ever after in the heart of new york city as an american citizen. life doesn't nearly go as well as planned, however, so it wasn't too long before kirya found herself in yet another tragedy.

archibald was almost three decades her senior and most definitely susceptible to health issues. while she was enjoying the splendor of their newly purchased upper side penthouse, she heard the phone ring. she could feel something rotted in her gut, then, as their phone hardly ever rang. she walked up, picked it off the receiver on the last ring. ms. starr, is it? we have your partner here, it may be wise to get his affairs in ord— and then she hung up again. she didn't ask any questions, she knew the answers would be too horrific to face. she packed up all her belongings, old and new, and before he even went cold in that hospital bed she emptied out their bank account and ran.

i don't get angry when i'm pissed, i'm the eternal optimist, i scream inside to deal with it, like, "AAAAAA"

in anchorage, she found a new name and a new purpose to go with it: mosley 'mozie' wilder, your everyday worker and bartender, plus a mischievous decoder that specialized in the science of investigation. she also may or may not know how to build a bomb, you know, if the other mystery busters need one. but this time, this life, she wants to be different. she's sober from drugs and alcohol and thinking about entering the chemistry field for real — and yes, she is married again, this time to her best friend. but she only wears the ring to ward other men off. that's what she tells herself, anyway.

the only thing impeding on her happiness is a stranger from beyond the grave. for some reason, ever since arriving in anchorage, she's accrued the attention of a poltergeist. it leaves her mentally and physically drained, a vacant husk of the girl she was hoping she could become. her therapist says it's dissociation disorder, but mosley is the one person who knows the truth: she's being haunted, and no amount of smarts can save her from it this time.

oh, all the time, i'm grateful all the fucking time, i'm sexy and i'm kind, i'm pretty when i cry.

— tidbits !!

still speaks broken english and has a thick czech accent that's difficult to understand at times.

looks like a cinnamon roll, could actually kill you (but chooses not to.)

picked the name mosley bc she thought it sounded very american, wants to try and embody it but fails repeatedly. cannot banish the feral girl that lives within her.

currently being relentlessly haunted by the ghost of monique jackson; seems spaced out most the time, dissociates a lot and tends to be the last one to get the joke.

is comically bad at driving cars and has accrued a lot of tickets in both europe and america.

has a pet skunk named zuzanna or 'zuzie' that is deodorized and very well-loved by paige who thinks she is the perfect deterrent for unworthy men.

cut out drugs and alcohol and replaced it with video games; current favorites are diablo ii and the elder scrolls iii: morrowind.

has her first wedding band hanging from a chain around her neck, hasn't explained what it is to anyone except her current best friend/spouse.

sexually and romantically confused; knows she doesn't feel sexual attraction but still kinda likes the idea of sex, and the one person who she's ever felt any romantic attraction towards was her first husband. can be defined simply as: "who's to say?"

#anchorintro

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