#Like we know that she just... Leaves. All the damn time.

[hoshifighting]

      jeonghan + anonymous sex

— where you discover that behind the scary mask, who's eating you out, is your professor, mr. yoon.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, oral, halloween party setting, penetrative sex, oral [f. rec], dirty talk, edging, taboo, fingering.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

halloween at uni was always a wild time—like, the one night when everyone just let loose and acted like idiots without any shame. it was a free pass to look either insanely sexy or terrifying as hell, and you’d seen both ends of that spectrum in past years. mostly, you loved it ‘cause it was kinda like a game of guess-who after the party, everyone spending the week after trying to figure out who was who under those masks. and that’s why the costumes just got more and more wild. anonymity? sign you up.

you and jewie, your ride-or-die dormmate, had done the whole horror bit every year, rocking the most messed up, bloodied-up outfits you could think of. but this year you both decided to go full-on sexy for once. jewie was rocking this short-ass witch outfit, all black and lace and pointy hat, and you—well, you were killing it (pun intended) in your killer bunny getup. thigh-high lacy white socks that clung to your skin, corset cinching you in, and this creepy-ass bunny mask that made you look both cute and dangerous. not to mention, the whole mask thing meant anything could go down and nobody would know.

“yo, you really gonna leave a note in his locker?” jewie whispered, eyes sparkling as the two of you snuck into the staff wing, the sound of your heels echoing off the empty halls.

“hell yeah, i’ve been crushing on prof yoon since he walked into his first lecture looking like a whole-ass snack,” you hissed back, your heart racing.

she let out a cackle, almost too loud. “he’s gonna die when he sees it. also, maybe don't bend over like that unless you want your ass out for the world to see.”

you shot her a look over your shoulder, half squinting through your mask. “fuck you, i’m not gonna walk like i’ve got a stick up my ass.”

“babe, that’s your job,” she teased, slapping your ass as you fumbled with the lock on the door. she was always like that—pushy, teasing, but down for whatever dumb thing you suggested, no questions asked.

finally, you managed to crack open the door to prof yoon’s locker, and the nervous excitement flared up all over again. “i’m doin’ it,” you muttered, mostly to yourself, as you slid the note into his stuff. just a stupid little flirty note. something anonymous and mysterious. if he recognized your handwriting? well, oops. that’s a future problem.

jewie watched, leaning against the doorframe, eyes flicking between you and the locker. “if he likes it, we might need to sneak you back in here to leave more. like a killer bunny pen pal situation.”

you laughed under your breath, shaking your head. “he’s not that dumb, but if he was, i’d consider it.”

you straightened up, adjusting your mask before looking back at jewie. the whole night felt like some weird fever dream—maybe it was the booze from earlier or just the high of running around campus dressed like this, but you felt unstoppable.

“okay, let’s get outta here before we get caught,” jewie said, pushing herself off the wall. “i swear if we see anyone, i’m pretending i don’t know you.”

“bitch, please, you’d totally rat me out,” you shot back, nudging her as the two of you slipped out of the staff room, adrenaline still pumping.

you took a long sip from your pouch, the cheap booze hitting just right as you swayed along with jewie to the beat. then, mid-spin, you spotted something—or rather, someone—that made you freeze in place, your lips still wrapped around the straw.

“i can’t fucking believe it,” you muttered, pulling the straw out and sulking like a kid who just had their candy stolen.

jewie gave you a sideways glance, eyebrows raised. “what’s got your panties in a twist now?”

you nodded toward the door, where another killer bunny had just strutted in, looking way too damn good for your liking. “look at that,” you said, gesturing with your drink. “bunny? okay, fine. but killer too? are you shitting me? what’re the odds?”

you huffed, feeling your vibe slightly killed by the sight of the other guy wearing basically the same damn thing as you—except he had this slutty, fitted black suit, and his mask was just as creepy as yours, that luscious black hair peeking out from behind it.

“wow,” jewie scoffed, following your gaze. “you’re really pressed about another killer bunny? seriously? it's halloween, dude, chill. everyone’s doubling up.”

“easy for you to say,” you muttered, still eyeing the guy. “you're not the only slutty witch in the room.”

she rolled her eyes, snorting. “uh, excuse me? i've seen, like, five other witches tonight, and one of them even had a broom—a broom, y/n. i just accepted it. it’s halloween.”

it was halloween, and sure, half the campus was probably dressed as witches, zombies, or sexy cops. but still, the nerve of this guy, strutting in like he invented the killer bunny look.

“and, you know what? my panties are in a twist, actually,” you shot back, glaring at jewie, who just gave you an unimpressed look. “like, literal twist. feels like they’re strangling me.”

she burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. “oh my god, you’re such a mess. there’s a whole locker room situation going on if you wanna fix it. no one’s gonna be in there anyway..”

“the locker room?” you hummed, considering it for a second. “yeah, might as well. better than walking around with my ass in knots.”

you slipped away from the party, the beat of the music fading as you made your way down the empty hallway, heels clacking against the floor. it was eerily quiet outside the main campus area, the darkness swallowing up the noise from the party like you were walking into another world. halfway there, though, you swore you heard something. footsteps, maybe? you glanced back over your shoulder, but the hallway was just as empty as before. shrugging it off, you kept walking.

then again—footsteps.

you whipped around, heart starting to race a bit. nothing. nobody. great, you thought. either you’re paranoid or some dude in a clown costume’s gonna jump out at you any second.

you sped up, practically rushing into the locker room, slamming the door behind you like that would keep the creepy vibes out. with a sigh, you lifted your skirt and fixed the tangled mess of fabric underneath. “goddamn,” you muttered, whistling in relief as the tension eased up. “finally.”

you made your way to the mirror, fluffing up your hair, adjusting your bunny ears, trying to look like you hadn’t just freaked yourself out. but then you heard it again—footsteps. this time, not so distant. real close.

before you could even react, the door creaked open, and there he was. the other killer bunny. strolling in like he owned the place, chill as could be, like it wasn’t the feminine locker room he’d just waltzed into.

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath, shooting him a glare through the mirror. “stole my idea and my spot?”

he snorted, leaning against the sink with his back turned to the mirror, eyes just fixed forward, hands shoved casually in his pockets. “stole your idea? babe, i’ve been rockin’ this for ages.”

“you saw it from me!” you shot back, turning around to face him, pointing at him accusingly. “i should sue for copyright or some shit.”

he let out a low chuckle, tilting his head slightly like he was amused by your little outburst. “you can have the bunny part. i’ll keep the killer part.”

“real original,” you scoffed, turning back to the mirror, fixing a stray curl in your hair. “and what’re you even doing in the locker room? you lost or just stupid?”

“neither,” he said simply, his voice way too smug for someone who looked like he just broke into the wrong locker room. “it was either this, or i piss in a bush somewhere. decided to be classy tonight.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the slight smirk pulling at your lips. “yeah, real classy, creeping around the women’s locker room.”

he leaned closer, still not turning to look in the mirror. “who says i’m creeping? maybe you just walked into my locker room.”

“oh, so now it’s your locker room too? boy, you’re bold.”

“what can i say? bunny privileges,” he said, shrugging like it was the most normal thing in the world.

you shook your head, turning to look at him fully now, sizing him up. he was tall, broad, the slutty suit clinging to him just right, his posture relaxed like he didn’t have a care in the world. and that hair, black and messy behind his mask—well, you’d give him one thing. he wore the costume well. too well.

“you know,” you said, leaning back against the sink next to him, crossing your arms. “if you’re tryna intimidate me, it’s not working. you’re just another bunny.”

he chuckled again, that low, almost lazy sound that somehow made your skin tingle. “maybe i’m not tryna intimidate you. maybe i’m just waiting for you to admit i look better.”

you scoffed, pushing off the sink and standing up straight, close enough now that you could smell the faint cologne clinging to him. it was… annoyingly nice. “please, i wouldn’t give you that satisfaction even if you paid me.”

“we’ll... see about that?” he murmured, finally turning to face you, his body looming over yours. his mask obscured most of his face, but his eyes locked onto yours, like he could see right through the sass.

and there it was. that thing on your lower stomach that snuck up on you out of nowhere. “you really think you can handle me, bunny?” you teased.

he didn’t flinch. his lips twitched into a grin under the mask.

“handle you?” he echoed, his voice dropping an octave. “baby, i’m just getting started.”

you raised an eyebrow, leaning in just a little closer, testing him, seeing how far you could push. “then show me what you got.”

his hand was on you in a second, pulling you toward him with a firm grip on your waist, his breath hot through the mask. and suddenly, the empty locker room didn’t feel so empty anymore. his other hand slid down, grazing your thigh before hiking your skirt up. “you sure you wanna play this game?” he cooed, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

you let out a breathy laugh, your hands fisting into the fabric of his suit. “you started it.”

“yeah?” his grip tightened, pulling you flush against him, your bodies fitting together too perfectly. “then let me finish it.”

he leaned in for the kiss, but both of you realized, almost at the same time, that the stupid mask was in the way. your lips collided with the hard plastic, and for a second, it was awkward as hell—until you both burst into laughter. “yeah, that’s not gonna work,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“guess we’ll just have to improvise,” he murmured back, and before you knew it, he had spun you around, pressing your hips firmly against the cold sink. the chill of the ceramic made you gasp, but it was nothing compared to the way his fingers slid under the elastic of your garter, pulling it away from your skin before letting it snap back on ur skin.

“fuck,” you hissed, as the sting amde your pussy drool. he was watching you through that damn mask, his fingers traced the hem of your skirt before he flipped it over your lower back, exposing the white lacy set you’d chosen to match the whole killer bunny thing.

“fuckin’ cute,” he growled as he took in the sight of your barely-there panties and thigh-highs. “you really wore this for halloween? shit’s a fuckin’ joke,”

the degradation in his tone made your cheeks burn, you bit down on your lip, trying to keep your composure, he noticed everything.

“what’s the matter?” he asked, mock concern as his hands skimmed over your thighs, squeezing just hard enough to make you gasp again. “you like being called cute while i fuck you up?”

you didn’t even have time to respond before his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down painfully slow, the lace barely clinging to your hips before he let them drop to your ankles. you kicked them off instinctively, your breath hitching when you saw him bend down slightly, he picked them up off the floor, turning the flimsy lace in his fingers for a second before shoving them deep into his pocket.

“gonna keep these,” he muttered, half to himself, half to you. standing up straight again. his hands, slid up your legs, spreading them just a bit more. the rough pads of his fingers brushed against the inside of your thighs, teasing you, waiting for you to beg, or break.

and god, you were close to breaking already.

one hand held your waist firmly in place, pressing you harder against the sink, while the other slipped between your legs, his fingers sliding against your wetness with an agonizing slowness.

“oh.. all soaked already?” he muttered, like he knew exactly how ruined you were just from his touch. “and we haven’t even started. you’ve been thinking about this? about me bending you over, fingers deep in this pretty little pussy?”

you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you as his middle and ring fingers dipped inside, your pussy swallow him immediately, even when the skin burns a little with the stretch. his long fingers immediately finding that sweet, squishy spot, for a moment, resting the fingers there.

he kept the pads of his fingers facing down, rubbing slow, tight circles against that sensitive spot, making you clench around him. you've never been stimulated like this, it looked so different and knowing for a college boy. the sensation was enough to make your knees weak, but his grip on your hips kept you steady, held in place as he worked you open.

he leaned down, the mask still in place, but you could feel the heat of him behind you. “you hear that? hear how fucking wet you are? all for me, huh?”

you did, in fact, it echoed in the empty locker room, as you try to be quiet. but you moaned in response, your head falling forward, resting on your arms as you tried to catch your breath. every stroke of his fingers had your pussy tightening, thighs shaking, and you were half-sure you’d collapse if it weren’t for the him keeping you upright.

his other hand moving up your back just enough so he could press his lips against your bare shoulder. you felt him lift the mask just slightly, and then his mouth was on you, kissing, biting, his teeth grazing your skin in a manner that had you arching into him.

“fuck, you taste so good,” he muttered. “so sweet. but i bet you taste even better down here.”

you groaned in frustration when you realized he was still wearing that damn mask, completely blocking the possibility of him going down on you. he noticed the way you moaned extra loud, probably because you’d been imagining it—his mouth between your legs, tasting how worked up you were.

he cooed, amused by your reaction, shaking his head like you were some kind of innocent mess. “fuck baby, i’d love to, but this mask is getting in the way. you know that.” his voice was so casual, like it wasn’t a big deal at all, like it wasn’t torture for you. and god, that whimper that left your throat? pathetic. even you knew it. you rolled your hips on his fingers, desperate for something, anything to replace what you couldn’t have right now. the wet, slick sound of his fingers working into you echoed around the room, filling the space with a vulgar kind of music that had him biting his lip, watching you fall apart over nothing.

“oh, you really want it bad, huh?” he laughed, and you whined again, the sound so embarrassingly needy that it should’ve made you blush. but instead, it only made you more desperate. his teasing was too much.

“fuck,” you muttered, half-begging, and he pulled back a bit, thinking for a second before a playful smirk took over his lips.

“let’s play a game then,” he offered, your brows furrowed in confusion, but the second he leaned in, lips brushing your ear, you felt your whole body heat up in response. “we take the masks off. but,” he paused, his fingers still torturing you, making your hips twitch every time he pressed just right. “we keep our eyes closed. i’ll eat you out, i’ll do anything you want, but no peeking.”

you hummed at the idea, already thinking of how good it would feel to have him without the barrier of those stupid masks. but before you could even respond, he tilted his head, adding with a teasing lilt, “but first... i gotta fuck you. because you’re so fucking tight, so fucking pretty squirming around my fingers like this.” his voice softened into something almost sweet, like he was praising you, and the way he cooed when you shyly squirmed against his hand, embarrassed by his words, had your body tightening in response. “such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

you were nodding before you even realized, the words barely out of your mouth before you agreed to it. the mask was yanked off, tossed to the side, and you felt him pull away slightly. you didn’t dare look back at him, though—you kept your promise, eyes shut tight, chest rising and falling rapidly.

you felt him shift behind you, the rustle of fabric as he undid his pants filling the locker room with a sharp, exciting edge. his fingers left you with a wet pop, and the sound made you shiver. god, you could still hear it—how soaked you were, how turned on he’d made you. your body reacted to the absence of his touch with a small gasp, but the moment you felt his warm breath near your ear again, your nerves melted away.

“don’t open your eyes,” he warned in that same serious tone, even though you could practically hear the smile on his face. you nodded, swallowing hard, trying to keep still. his fingers returned, now gripping your hips firmly, and you couldn’t help but arch into him, needing more.

“good girl,” he murmured, guiding you to bend further over the sink. your chest pressed against the cold surface, your eyes squeezed shut, but you could feel everything. you were painfully aware of how exposed you were to him, the skirt flipped up, your wetness on full display.

the blunt head of his cock nudged at your entrance, slick and heavy, and you braced yourself, but he didn’t push in. instead, he slid it up, dragging it along your folds, teasing your clit and the leaking hole. the sensation had your toes curling, and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking, “you just gonna rub it?”

he chuckled darkly, pressing the tip against your entrance again but not entering. “thought i’d take my time, make you beg a little more.”

you groaned, squirming under him, your hips moving on their own as you chased the penetration. you could feel him smiling behind you, still teasing, but his hand was firm on your hips, holding you steady as he slowly dragged his cock up and down, brushing against your clit every time. it was maddening, the way he was holding back, making you wait, making you ache for him.

“you want it that bad, hm?” he asked, and before you could even answer, he pushed in, sliding into you with a slick, deep thrust that knocked the breath out of your lungs as you watch pitch black. “fuck, there it is.”

you moaned, the sudden fullness overwhelming, your fingers gripping the edge of the sink as he held you in place, his cock buried deep inside. he didn’t move at first, just let you adjust to the stretch, but his hands were still moving—one sliding up your back, the other gripping your ass, squeezing hard as he groaned low in his throat.

“ah!–don' squeeze me like that,” he muttered, his voice strained as he began to move, his hips grinding into yours rolling the dick in and out of you. “taking me so well... pretty pussy devouring my cock.”

you whimpered at his praise, your body trembling with every slow stroke. he wasn’t holding back anymore, his pace picking up, his hand slipped down between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing light, quick circles that had you moaning loudly.

the thing was;

his eyes had been wide open the whole time.

he was practically glowing with the fact that you hadn’t recognized him at all. he knew it was you from the second you stepped into the party, making him choke on his own spit, all dressed up in that killer bunny costume, and it made him feel like he was holding onto the biggest secret ever. you had no idea who you were fucking, and that made everything ten times hotter.

as you leaned over the sink, he got a perfect view of your face blushing beneath your expertly done makeup, all those little details you’d spent hours perfecting. the way the light caught the shimmer on your cheeks, the dark eyeliner framing your eyes just right—it was beautiful. even though you planned on hiding your face with that mask for the entire night.

he pretended to keep his eyes closed, even though he could barely contain his excitement. “i hope you don't open your eyes hm? you wouldn't want to lose me eating you out, right?” he’d said with a smirk, watching as you nodded obediently. you were so good at this—everything about you, from the way you shifted on the sink to the way you were biting your lip in need, made him ache to see your true reaction when you finally figured it out.

he could feel your nervous energy as you followed his lead, trusting him completely. it was almost comical how easy it was to manipulate the situation, how horny you were, and he couldn’t help but chuckle quietly to himself.

“you’ve got no idea how fucking cute you moan,” he murmured, leaning closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he continued to thrust into you. the way you squirmed made him even harder, and he could feel his own arousal rising at the thought of keeping this secret just a little longer.

“shut up,” you whined, clearly flustered by his words, and he couldn’t help but laugh softly. god, you were adorable. he kept it playful, teasing you even more as he leaned down to press his lips against your shoulder, kissing a line up your neck as he continued to roll his hips into you. “just focus on how good you feel.”

every thrust sent a quiver through you, and he could feel you responding to him, getting wetter with every move. you were lost in it, and he was completely taken by the way your body reacted to his touch. he loved how your sounds filled the space, how you couldn’t help but moan louder and louder as he picked up the pace, fucking you deeper.

“tell me how good it feels.”

“so good, you feel so good—your cock—s'big!” you breathed, and he reveled in the power he had over you. he could see the way your body squirmed beneath him, anguished for more, and it only pushed him to keep going.

“that’s right, keep saying it,” he encouraged, his fingers curling around your waist, pulling you back against him as he hit that sweet spot inside you. “i want to hear everything, since i cant see it.”

he could feel you tightening around him, your that sweet release pulsing, and just when you were about to hit that peak, he pulled out, leaving you gasping “what the fuck?!” you cried, your voice high-pitched with desperation, eyes still closed. he couldn’t help but chuckle at your frustration, knowing just how good you felt, but wanting to keep you on that brink a little longer.

“patience, bunny,” he teased, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “you’ll get what you want.”

with that, he pushed back into you, driving deep and hard, and the sound of your moan filled the locker room. “yes! please!” you begged, fingers digging into the sink as you rocked back against him.

but again, right when you were so close, he slipped out. “no, no, don’t do that!” you whined, the desperation in your voice making him grin. “i was so close!”

“i won’t let you cum on my cock,” he said, a teasing grin playing on his lips as he watched your expression crumble. your face fell against your arms in defeat, sulking like a petulant child. “why?” you whined, the sulk evident in your voice, and he couldn’t help but scoff at how adorable you looked, all flustered and desperate.

just then, his hand tangled in your hair, tugging enough to make you almost open your eyes. the sudden pressure made a strangled moan escape your throat, and he loved it.

he slowly turned you around, guiding you to sit on the cold sink. you cursed under your breath, your legs instinctively spreading wide as you positioned yourself for him.

“this is so unfair, i cant see you...” you muttered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you thought about how you couldn’t see what he was doing. you could hear the sound of your breath quickening as he dropped to his knees in front of you, the idea of him between your legs making you almost cum on spot.

“you don’t need to see it, babe,” he said, all sultry. fuck you needed to know who he was, and with that, you could feel him get closer, his breath hot against your pussy, making you squirm.

“you’re such an ass for doing this to me,” you groaned, but deep down, you were practically begging for it, and you knew it. he laughed softly, the sound thundering in his chest as he spread your legs wider, giving himself a perfect view of your pussy, the folds puffy, and flushed, dripping beautifully.

a sudden creak from somewhere down the hallway snapped you out of the fog of pleasure, and, instinctively, you opened your eyes. it took a second to adjust, to blink away the haze clouding your vision, but then you looked down—straight at him.

and—

mr. yoon?

“shh,” he whispered, a finger pressed to his own lips, a hint of a smirk twitching as he maintained eye contact with you, even as his head dipped between your legs. you wanted to pull back, to process that your professor was there, settled on his knees in front of you in a locked room, but his mouth had already found your clit.

“oh my god,” you moan, in disbelief, in pure ecstasy. he starts sucking your clit with so hard that makes you dizzy, and your back arches instinctively, the sensations overwhelming. your mind races, but the sight of him—mr. yoon, your strict, no-nonsense professor—eating you out is enough to push you right back over the edge.

you bite your lip to stifle your cries, but it’s no use. the combination of the taboo and the sucking sends you spiraling into the orgasm, and you can feel yourself clenching around his tongue as you cum in his mouth, a whimper escaping your lips.

“holy—” you breathe, panting as he pulls away, licking his lips like he’s savoring the taste of you.

he raises up to kiss you, but you back away instinctively, the shock paralyzing you.

“wait, you didn’t like that it was… me?” he asks, worry flashing across his eyes.

your mind is racing. so he was the one fucking you? after the letter—oh my god. “i… i didn’t know it was you!” you manage to stammer.

he licks his cum-covered lips, that sly grin still in place. he steps back slightly, still unsure of what to say. “so… you liked it, then?”

“well, yeah, but—” you start, but the words fail you. how do you even explain this? how do you tell your professor that he just made you come like that, and it was one of the best experiences of your life?

you catch his gaze, and for the first time, there’s a flicker of worry in mr. yoon’s eyes. he's probably already imagining that expulsion letter or the scandal that’d blow up his career.

“relax,” you murmur, smirking as he watches you. “i’m not about to go blabbing to the dean or anything.” he quirks a skeptical brow, clearly not convinced yet, and you give him a playful shrug. “but only if… you get on your knees again and show me just how much you wanna keep me quiet.”

the corner of his mouth lifts. “oh, is that right?” he murmurs, and before you know it, he’s stepping forward, hands sliding around your waist as he leans down, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“guess i’ll have to make sure you’re too busy to even think about talking,” he whispers.

[...]

monday rolls around, and it’s like the entire campus is still buzzing about the halloween party. people are dissecting every detail, trying to figure out who was behind which mask. you’re sitting at your desk, pretending to read the same damn paragraph for the fifth time, but let’s be real—there’s only one thing on your mind: mr. yoon’s dick.

jeonghan’s up at the front, leaning against his desk, teaching as if nothing happened, and you can barely keep a straight face. every time you glance up, you can’t help but picture the way he looked at you, the feel of his hands, his mouth… yeah, not the kind of thoughts you should be having in the middle of class.

the bell finally rings, snapping you out of it as everyone starts packing up. your friend pauses by the door, waiting, but just as you’re about to leave, mr. yoon clears his throat.

“y/n,” he says, there’s that hint of something under it, something only you would catch. “stay a moment, would you?”

you wave your friend off, muttering something about catching up later. she glances between the two of you and, of course, shoots you a knowing smile before shutting the door on her way out. it’s just you and jeonghan now, the room empty and quiet, his gaze pinned on you.

he raises an eyebrow, and his eyes flick towards the closed door. “should i be worried about that smile she gave you?” he asks, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

you blink, caught off guard. “no! no one knows about… us,” you insist, a bit too quickly.

he scoffs, giving you this look like he’s amused but skeptical. “oh, i know that,” he says smoothly, but then he taps his finger on his desk. “but she definitely knows… about this.”

with a dramatic flourish, he slides open a drawer and pulls out the letter. your stomach drops as he lays it out on his desk for you to see, the unmistakable swoop of your handwriting there in all its glory, complete with little heart and butterfly stickers surrounding a mortifyingly filthy sentence.

“wanna feel your cock hitting the deepest part of my pussy until i can’t even remember my name.”

you freeze, face heating up instantly. oh, god. did you really write that?

he chuckles softly, watching you squirm as you avoid his gaze, suddenly very interested in the stack of textbooks on his desk. you press your lips together, practically biting down to keep from making any sound, because your brain is malfunctioning.

“so,” he murmurs, “did you really mean every word?”

[mead-iocre]

˚　.˚　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　. ੈ

brat!reader is planning to wear this shirt to one of alexia's games. she paired it with her favourite black balloon mini skirt, coperni aged leather brown knee high boots, and her favourite vintage denim coach bag.

she double checked her bag, making sure all her essentials were in there-- sunglasses, gum, phone, and vape. check check check and check.

she was just about to walk out the door when all of a sudden she is yanked by the arm by none other than her girlfriend. alexia's eyes widen when she reads the text on her shirt.

"bebé, you cannot wear that"

an eyebrow raise. sometimes she underestimated how good alexia’s english is getting. damn. brat!reader was really hoping she could get away with it. "what do you mean I can-not wear this?"

"I mean-- people-fans might see you or the cameras might catch you--and people might think--"

"might think what? that all we do is hold hands and touch foreheads?"

alexia sighs audible, her hand instinctively coming up to massage her temple. her blood pressure is rising and the match hasn't even started yet. she starts mumbling a prayer in her mother tongue. the last thing she needs right now is a migraine before a home match against a tough opponent.

"estoy hablando en serio. just change the shirt and we can go"

brat!reader stomps one boot-covered leg down against the wooden floor, frustrated that she's being asked to change when her outfit looks so good. alexia willed herself to not pick a fight, not when she's got a match to focus.

"Vale. fine. puta madre. just wear this over it." Alexia shrugs off her own sweatshirt that she had on, hastily throwing it at her girlfriend before rushing to find something else to wear.

brat!reader could hear her cursing up a storm, muttering in broken spanish under her breath. she complies anyway because the sweatshirt is kinda cute, plus it smells like sandalwood, violet and old leather that lingers from alexia's signature perfume. she wears alexia’s sweatshirt, snapping a few pics with her new fit to post on instagram later.

she can wear the t-shirt some other time.

"ready to go, baby?" is what greets alexia when she finally manages to find another top to throw on that would suit the rest of her fit. her nicely styled hair a few minutes ago was now in slight disarray from the amount of shirts she tried on and then yanked back off. her face is stoic, eyes dark.

"cierren la boca. keep your mouth shut or else i will leave you on the side of the road." is all alexia says before she ends it with a pinch to brat!reader's ass beneath her billowy mini skirt. "do not piss me off. I mean it."

since the match will be played at home, players are free to drive to the stadium with their own cars. when they arrive at the stadium they have to split up— brat!reader to the suits and alexia with the team (obviously). by some miracle, brat!reader had somehow managed to leave alexia alone for the entire drive, far too focused on her phone, replying to instagram comments and messages. alexia was finally able to clear her mind for a short while.

“I’ll see you after” all low and monotone. alexia grabs her Louis Vuitton toiletry bag and locks the car behind her.

“still mad at me?”

“hm.” yeah. she's still mad.

“ok…kiss?”

alexia rolls her eyes and huffs, as if she just got asked to do the most tedious chore. she reaches for her jaw, cupping it with one hand, squeezing her cheeks and forcing brat!readers lips into a pout. she presses a rough kiss onto her lips before pulling away to mutter. “me estas enfadando. you get on my nerves, ya’know that?”

brat!reader just grins at her. oh how she loves to annoy her lover. she sneaks one more quick kiss and bounces away yelling “i love you too. have a good game, la reina!” behind her shoulder, waving at alexia as she walks towards the entrance to the suits. she knows alexia absolutely detests that nickname. she can picture alexia cursing her out in her head, probably saying the most obscene spanish insults she won't even be able to translate to english.

hopefully alexia channels that frustration for her into the game later on and scores a few goals. afterall, alexia plays her best games when she's angry x

˚　.˚　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　. 　

saw the shirt and had to write the quickest blurb ever. must cope the shirt one day x

[theereina]

Let Me Talk

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +2.4K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, anxiety mentioned, childhood trauma mentioned, angst, heartbreak, fluff, a smidge of dirty talk

A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels unless requested.🤨

A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @theereina. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

It had been four months since I had seen Terry. There was little to no contact besides short phone conversations and quick texts. I would be lying if I said I didn't miss him. It was the little things that made it hard to forget him. The way he always smelled of sandalwood and musk. The way he held my hand when I was anxious. The way his smile lit up a room. The way every shirt he owned molded to his body like a glove. Ugh, I gotta stop.

I wanted nothing more than for him to return home to me, but pride got in the way. Not only for him but for me, too. We were equally as stubborn and stuck in our ways, unyielding to the love we shared. Being right somehow mattered more to each of us— more than a good morning kiss, a massage after a long day, the vows of our marriage.

Letting pride hinder our judgment, I told Terry to leave and not come back. Truthfully, I didn't want him to, I was just angry and tired of fighting. So, when he left without a fight, it reminded me too much of my abandonment trauma. Watching him walk out that door tore me apart. I was once again a five-year-old girl watching her father leave for the last time, never to return. The power Terry held over me in that moment was only a fraction of the hurt I felt. It was like the world around me shattered. With him, Terry took both light and love while I fell further into darkness more and more each day.

In other words, Terry and I couldn't comprehend that we could both be right even with two different perspectives. The basis of the problem as trifling as it seemed was an ugly nuanced one. Unfortunately, Terry was raised by his parents while I had to survive mine. This understanding is what caused the biggest fight we had ever had. No matter how much I explained it, Terry couldn't understand why I did things the way I did.

For context, I have had no contact with my family since I left home after college. I didn't talk to my sisters, brother, stepfather, and definitely not my mother. Terry's nurturing and supportive upbringing made him less receptive to the dysfunction that came with mine. He couldn't fathom not speaking to his family, let alone his mother, for years. So, when he brought up the idea of me reconnecting with them, it was a shock. The first time he asked I reminded him that I had my reasons— he only knew some. The second time I admired his persistence but still declined the offer. However, after the fifth or sixth time, I was fed up. I wanted him to understand how much these people collectively hurt and drained me. After days of explaining and retelling the story, he responded with annoyance— calling me childish and bitter.

Damn right, I was! I had taken care of every single one of them for years. I had put my health on the back burner to ensure they were good. I had stretched myself thin to the point of almost being hospitalized for a mental breakdown. No one other than my mom came, but we all know her true reason for coming— to save face. Considering she never believed or accepted my mental health issues, she just complained the whole time I was in the waiting room. This is the type of stuff I dealt with from them. This lack of care, kindness, appreciation, and love is why I left as soon as I was financially stable enough.

Even after talking about this for days, the only thing I was left with was a heavy heart and teary eyes. The more Terry pressed; the more distant I became. I didn't want it to get this far or this bad, but he wouldn't let it go. His mind was already made up. To him, family is family, and we should forgive them no matter what. Unfortunately, that wasn't and would never be my reality.

Present Day

“Caramel cookie butter iced coffee and a regular hot coffee for… Fallon!” yelled the barista from behind the counter. “That's me,” I said, facing the small woman. “Here you go. Enjoy,” she said, smiling and pushing the drinks toward me. I checked the sticker on the regular coffee to see if they remembered the two sugars. I picked up both drinks and searched for an empty table in the back of the coffee shop. I knew this conversation would result in both of us or at least me ugly crying.

I slid into a booth in the far back corner of the shop, facing the door. I knew that if it became too overwhelming for me, seeing the door would provide a certain level of relief— an exit or escape if needed. Immediately upon sitting, I began to remember some of the memories I and Terry shared here. This quickly became our favorite spot. Plus, it was right down the street from our shared home. Terry would come here almost every Monday and Friday morning to pick up my current favorite drink order. He called it a treat to start the week and a reward for finishing.

This is also the place where we had our first conversation about marriage. I can almost remember Terry's face when I told him I never thought about being married— until I met him. I didn't believe anyone could love me, especially a man of Terry's caliber. I felt like damaged goods that would never be good enough for him or anyone else. So, I never planned for that milestone. Terry's presence in my life felt like a reassuring message from God that I was loved and deserved it— properly.

Oh, God! Not me already crying, and he hasn't even made it. I quickly used one of the napkins to dab my eyes. Taking deep breaths and relaxing my shoulders, I tried my hardest not to get lost in my thoughts. I knew that once I let myself be sucked into that abysmal cycle I would be trapped there before even a word was spoken between us.

I leaned back into the booth, watching the door. Terry wasn't late; I was just extremely early. I needed to prepare myself as much as possible before seeing him.

10 minutes later

ding ding

“Good morning! Welcome to the Coffee Cabin,” yelled the woman from behind the counter. “Hey, good morning,” said a familiar voice. I knew exactly who this was yet my heart refused to settle down. I didn't know how my mind and body would react to seeing him face-to-face for the first time in months. My hands were sweating profusely. How the fuck was I going to make it through this?

“Pumpkin?” Terry said, sitting across from me. “Uh,… Hi,” I said struggling to breathe. “Hey, mama. Look at me. Fallon!” Terry said, leaning over the table and lifting my chin. I looked up to see Terry glaring back at me. Those striking green eyes expressed his concern. His eyes spoke before his mouth could. There was no need to voice his worry.

“Terry, please,” I said, holding his hand. “Don't do that. Just tell me what's wrong,” he said pulling my hand to his lips. “This! What the hell are we doing right now? It's like we aren't even married. I don't…” I rambled. “Pumpkin,” Terry said, trying to stop me. “We aren't living…” I continued. “Pumpkin,” Terry said, gripping my hand. “I don't know what to do with myself half the time. It's…,” I said. “Pumpkin, enough! Stop!” he cried out. I could sense his frustration with my rambling. I hadn't stopped talking since he sat down. “Terry, I'm just trying…,” I said trying to continue. “No. Stop it! This isn't how this was supposed to go. Let…me…talk,” he grunted.

I pulled my hand away and placed it back into my lap. I dropped my head in embarrassment. I hadn't even made it one minute before making a fool of myself. “Listen, I love you. I know you are feeling anxious right now. We both have a lot to say, and that's okay. But before we can continue, I need you to relax, love. Okay?” he said, caressing my cheek. I shook my head, looking back up at him. “I'm sorry. This is hard,” I said. “I know, mama. I know,” he said, wiping away a single fallen tear.

“C’mere,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me up from my seat. “Terry, I…!” I said, trying to pull away from him. “Nah, come to me, Pumpkin,” he said while wrapping his arms around me. It was as if life itself had started again. Terry's embrace broke me in the gentlest way possible. His body swallowed mine, providing me with the comfort I had been craving for months. I missed this man and everything about him.

“I'm sorry. I…,” I said, sniffling into Terry's chest. “Shhh, stop apologizing. I don't need you to apologize. I need you to let me— let me love you, let me take care of you, let me come home,” he said, tilting my chin up to meet his eyes. He leaned down and kissed me on the lips. I had never felt so much relief in my life. A single kiss had just washed away all the pain and guilt I had carried for these last four months.

“I don't know what to say. I had all these… these… speeches planned in my head. Just for me to remember nothing,” I said leaning further into Terry. “That's fine. Let me talk, you just listen. Turn your brain off for a minute and relax. Aight?” he said, releasing me from his hold. His hands held onto the sides of my face. He was awaiting an answer, but words were escaping me. Too many thoughts were fighting to claim power over my tongue.

“Turn it off, lil’ mama. Okay? Sit back down for me,” he said, gesturing towards my seat. His hand waved back towards the booth as I slid back in. Terry sat back down in front of me. He reached for my hands and pulled them towards him. It's insane how something as simple as Terry holding my hands made me feel lighter and calmer. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “There you go. Thank you, Pumpkin,” he said while stroking the back of my hands.

“Listen to me, okay? I should have never pressed you so hard about what was going on. Your boundaries were clear. I can see that now and wish I could have seen that then. These last four months have been absolute hell in the most silent way possible. I let my perspective overshadow yours when this was your experience— your reality, not mine. I won't sit here and lie to you like I'll ever understand how you feel. I won't. However, as your husband, it was my job to console you…. and… and care for you. I failed you at that moment. I don't deserve your immediate forgiveness, and I will do whatever you ask to receive it. I… uh… I left you to deal with all those emotions alone when it was my fault that you had to relive it in the first place. I was forcing you to see things my way because I thought I knew what was best for you based on my… my experience. You didn't deserve that. You deserved so much more than I gave you at that moment, and for that, I'm sorry. Sorry for how I handled the situation entirely. From this day forward, I promise to be a better man to you— a better husband. You deserve the world, mama. I love you more than life itself. Please, forgive me. Please,” he pleaded.

By this point, I was sobbing. I didn't need to say a word. I jumped up from my seat and ran around to Terry's side. There was nothing I wanted more than him— all of him. I sat in his lap and held his face in my hands. “Of course, I forgive you. I love you, too. I don't know what to say. Fuck… just… just kiss me already, papa,” I said, looking into Terry's eyes. They were the softest they had been in a while.

Terry’s urge was just as strong as mine as he pulled me in to kiss him on the lips. But, I needed more; so I used my tongue to part his lips. Terry's mouth opened, and I could feel his energy shift. The desire in him ignited like a flame. The yearning was mutually shared. His hands roamed wildly as teeth met tongue. Neither one of us cared that we were in public. Sharing breath and body, we became one again. With passion burning in our bellies, Terry pulled away first. I looked at him to be met with a pained gaze filled with a desperate hunger for something else.

“Pumpkin, I think we should leave. Um… the thoughts that are… uhh, shit… Woman the things I want to do to you have no business being viewed by the public eye,” he said, catching his breath. His chest rose and fell rapidly with every word. “Yeah?” I asked, stroking his ear and swallowing hard. My breathing was equally just as harsh.

Terry's gaze lingered over my body. “Yeah, we need to leave. Now!” he said, guiding me with his hands on my hips. “Did you drive or walk?” he asked, making me face him. “Walked,” I answered softly. “Okay. I drove. Unfortunately for you, you gettin’ in a car with me, and I can't promise to keep my hands to myself. Honestly, we probably not makin’ it home,” he said while leaning down to whisper in my ear. “Oh, fuck… Don't say stuff like that,” I said, clenching my thighs together. “You wanted honesty, mama. Hell, we should put that extended cab to good use for once,” Terry said, his lip curling up into the most sinful smirk. “You're nasty,” I said, hitting him in the chest. “Yea, and? You love it!” he said, pulling me into another kiss.

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[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + twenty four

authors note: this one gets pretty heavy. the next two chapters will also be heavy at points. please heed to cw/tw's.

cw/tw: fluff, angst, brief discussion of childhood sexual assault and child abuse, scene of violence against women

*this author does not condone nor support intimate partner/domestic violence.*

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 12k

“Roman…” His name leaving her mouth is the perfect combination of breathy and whiny. “We–re gonna be late.”

For the first time in what feels like an hour, Roman lifts his head from her neck. She hates how noticeable the absence of his mouth is. “You really think I care about that?”

No. She knows he doesn’t care. But, she also dislikes being the reason for them being late. Because she's certain he has plans afterwards, and it doesn’t sit well with her knowing that she could play any type of role in any inconvenience he may encounter.

Her eyes shut as he brings his mouth back to her neck, sucking the spot that he’s clearly realized she has the most visceral response to. Toes curling, clawing at his shoulders and arms, it’s hard to tell who’s enjoying this more. Him or her.

Still, she manages to protest. “But, I—I care.”

Big hands traveling her body, she sighs quietly when he cups the swell of her breast giving her a gentle squeeze that has her thighs unintentionally gripping his waist. “You should have thought about that before you put this damn outfit on….”

Said outfit isn’t anything crazy, nothing fancy, just a cropped, sleeveless hoodie and dark yoga pants. However, it's the stretchy material that clings to clearly every part of her that he seemingly finds irresistible. Namely her ass and chest. Still, it's the typical type of outfit she would wear to train, which is exactly where they should be headed to right now. Though it seems her husband has another much more carnal destination in mind.

Blush growing, she tries again. “Roman, I—I’m serious.” His tongue circling across her inflamed skin as she groans against him. “You’re gonna l–leave another mark.”

“Good.” His response doesn’t entirely surprise her. Neither does the explanation. “You’re mine, and everyone needs to fucking know that shit.”

Mine

There’s something about that, something about his delivery, so strong and borderline aggressive that makes her insides melt a tad. Makes her smile grow. A good bit, she’s certain, stemming from the fact that it still blows her mind sometimes that a man like Roman Reigns could want her. Does want her. Even with all her….baggage.

He wants her.

Loves her.

For some reason, this makes it a bit easier to slide into that space of comfort and indifference he has regarding time and obligation. Makes her arch her chest into him as he stays true and firm to his determination in leaving her with his mark. 

Though she’s not sure just what about this current situation makes her decide to bring this up now, it’s something she knows she really shouldn't push off anymore.

“R–Ro?”

He makes a sound against her. “Yes?”

“I—I need a favor.”

He sighs against her, lifting his head from her neck to match her nervous gaze. “Solana, doing things for you is never a favor.” He brings his hand to her chin, thumb caressing her skin. “It’s my job as your husband.”

His response, thus far, chips away some of the anxiety. Some. “But, this—this is kinda big.”

Eyes narrowing slightly, he asks, “how big?”

It feels kind of silly, Solana briefly dropping her gaze to his black shirt that’s stretched against his broad chest. “I—I need money.”

Roman just looks at her for a second, a huge smile breaking out on his face. “You need money?” 

She nods. Slowly. “It’s—it’s a lot of money though.”

“I think we have different definitions of what a lot is, but go on.”

He’s probably not wrong, but that doesn’t negate the fact that the proposed amount of money probably needed is substantial compared to the average loan. Solana sits up fully, forcing Roman to also stand upright. He tugs her to the edge, her hands on his chest. “It’s…..it’s for Dr. Stratus.”

At that, she’s clearly lost him. “You need money for your psychiatrist?”

“Not—not like that.” Solana closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as she tries to gather her thoughts. “The girls were telling me they overheard that Dr. Stratus couldn’t secure an investor to keep the facility going and may have to shut down.”

He remains confused. “Okay…..”

“Roman, I don’t want that to happen.” She closes her eyes, thinking back to some of the information Gail has provided her as well as readings from her book. “Did you—did you know that 1 out of every 6 American women has either been raped or survived of an attempted rape?” Closing her eyes, she murmurs, “I was one of the ones.” Taking another breath, she notices his expression is darker. “But there are a lot more ones out there, Roman, and they need help just like I did. Dr. Stratus has a really great thing going, and I don’t—I don’t want to see it go away. I want—”

“Okay.”

She frowns. “Okay?”

“I’ll do it.”

Her stomach flutters. “Really?” She’s not sure what she was expecting, but for some reason, him so easily agreeing seems almost too good to be true.

Roman shrugs, pushing back some of her hair. “It’s important to you, and it clearly is, so I’ll do it.” That’s it. Nothing else. Just acquiescence.

“But, you don’t even know how much—”

“Doesn’t matter. You want it. I’ll make it happen.”

It’s overwhelming, really. Solana didn’t really think he would be upset with her request. She figured he’d want or need to think about it, which makes sense given it’s probably going to be in the six, maybe even seven figure range. But, that’s not the case. Instead, he’s just agreed without a second thought simply because she wants it.

Because it’s important to her.

Eyes watering, she throws her arms around him, hugging him. “Thank you.” It’s such a simple thing to say for such a big task. But, she also means it from the deepest part of her. For a man who doesn’t seem to think he’s a good person, she thinks the world of him. 

The same way she’s certain their child will. 

“While we’re on it, there’s something I need to talk to you about, too.”

And just like that, her smile is wiped, Solana pulling back and looking up. "Oh—okay.”

Something tells her she’s not going to like what she’s about to hear.

Roman’s intense eyes are focused on her, his index finger tracing along her jaw. “I have to go out of town next week.”

Yeah……definitely not something she wanted or expected to hear.

“Oh.” It’s all she knows how to say initially. Finally, more words arrive. A necessary question asked. “Where are you going?”

He hesitates. “Italy.”

Her eyes widen. That definitely isn’t what she expected him to say. Domestic travel was the guess, international never even being something that crossed her mind. “Italy?”

He nods, explaining on the edge of a heavy sigh. “I have some…..business to take care of with the Cosa Nostra.”

Solana is quiet, sitting on his words, partially hoping he’ll say more. Granted, it’s not a necessity as she’s able to piece the puzzle together herself. “That’s why your cousins were here that night…..isn’t it?” His silence is all the answer she needs. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“No.” Though his answer is immediate, there’s something about it that was too instantaneous. Like he blurted it out without even thinking about it. “Just…..something I need to handle.”

It’s a bit manipulative. She knows this, but it’s hard for her to have something like this sprung on her and not ask any follow up questions. “Can….can I come with you?”

Again, his response is something she already guessed before even fixing her mouth to ask. Another heavy sigh as he gently cups her cheek. “Not this time.”

“Because it’s dangerous.” And there’s the manipulation component. Solana has realized that will always be the dealbreaker for Roman when it comes to her. Safety. So, him saying no makes her concerned not for her wellbeing. 

But for his.

Anxiety growing, she asks, “are the twins going with you? You can’t go alone.”

“I won’t be alone.” That helps her feel a little better. Just a little. “But, they’re not coming. I need them here. Handling shit.” It’s hard for Solana to wonder if any part of what went down between Roman and Jey has impacted this decision for them to remain here while he travels abroad. 

Still, that’s another thought for another day. She has a much bigger issue at hand.

“So who—”

“Solana.” Roman’s voice silences the next set of anxiety riddled questions scheduled to leave her mouth. He lowers his volume, his tone softer than anything anyone outside of her would ever hear. “I’ll be fine.”

For some reason, that only cranks her anxiety up from a 6 to a solid 8. And it’s without much thought, she finds herself asking, “do you have to go?”

He truly looks apologetic. A visible thing that also matches the verbal. “I’ve been pushing it off. I can’t push it off anymore.”

She swallows, emotion thick and bubbling. “Because of me?”

“Because of a lot of things, Sol.” And to her surprise, there’s some semblance of emotion present in his voice as well. “The—the story with that side of my family is…..complicated.” As it seems are most things when it comes to his family. Either side, apparently. “Trust me, going there is the last thing I want, but it needs to be done.”

Solana hates this. For a lot of reasons. The biggest one, however, is because she just knows there’s something he’s not telling her. A key part he’s omitting, probably for fear of worrying her. Never mind the fact that she’s already an anxious mess thinking about him being so far away without at least the twins there to have his back. She’d bet this Dwayne and Matteo person will be present, but she doesn’t know them. Doesn’t trust them. Doesn’t trust them to have her husband’s back. 

Not like Jimmy and Jey.

Even with the altercation between Roman and the latter, she still believes in her heart of hearts they’d look out for each other.

Like brothers.

“How long will you be gone?” Because trying to convince him to stay or even allow her to accompany him is the equivalent of beating a dead horse. 

More hesitation. “A week. Maybe two.”

The duration truly could be worse, and it makes sense such a long trip wouldn’t warrant a short turnover, but that doesn’t make the idea of him being gone for that period of time any easier to stomach. 

When she says nothing, he brings his other hand to her hair, pushing a section behind her ear. “Nia will stay with you until I return.”

And the surprises just keep coming. “Nia?” She knows the list of people Roman would ask to do such a thing is pretty limited, nonexistent maybe, but Nia is the last of the last she’d have considered. “She—why would she agree to that?”

Nia’s behavior around and toward Solana has shifted moderately since their first meeting so many months ago. She’s still not the nicest, per se, but Solana has learned a large part of that is nothing personal. It’s just Nia. So, while she’s not against it, she does, however, not understand it. 

“I told you before, people do what I want them to do because no one wants to deal with the alternative. Nia is no different.” Forced. He’s forced her to do this. That’s all Solana took from that, the frown on her face deepening it. “She’ll really just be here to administer your meds and make sure you get to therapy.” 

And she figured as such, figured that would be the basis as to why he would ensure another person is present in his absence. Still, Solana can’t stop herself from trying to broach an option she’s almost certain he won’t want to hear.

“Ro, I don’t—I can take care of that mys—”

“No.” It’s so firm and final. Even his gaze has shifted into something almost hardened. “That’s not an option.”

She figured it wasn’t. She also wonders, however, if it ever will. It has to, at some point. Solana wants to also ask why it can’t be Bayley again, or even Naomi, but it’s most likely to earn her the same type of shutdown. 

If not worse.

Roman steps back, guiding her off the bathroom counter. Standing back on her own two feet, Solana is taken back for a second by the almost instant lightheaded feeling that comes over her. Or less lightheaded and more…..exhaustion.

“You alright?”

She looks up, forcing a small smile. “Yeah. I’m—I’m good.” That’s debatable, because Solana is all of a sudden feeling exhausted from literally doing nothing but making out with her husband. 

Roman, as expected, looks unconvinced. “You sure?” He goes into his spiel that she’s heard at least three times now. “You know you don’t have to jump right back into things. I still think you should take more time off—”

“No.” Her hand shifts to her stomach, Solana grateful this doesn’t seem to trigger something for him. “I—I want to fall back into my routines.” Even more, and most important, if she truly is pregnant, Solana doesn’t want to waste any time left she has to do so before being too far along to train.

But, he can’t have that explanation. Not yet.

And now she has to figure out just when said explanation can occur, because how does she tell her husband they’re expecting days before he’s set to go out of town for possibly two weeks?

Damn.

————

“You’re late.” It’s the first thing to come out of a smirking Bayley’s mouth as Solana walks in with Roman into the training area. ‘But, the outfit is cute.”

Solana smiles at that, a bit of a laugh leaving her considering Roman nearly had a heart attack at her outfit when she stepped out the bathroom. Hence why they’re late. Among…..other reasons. 

“I’m sorry. We got caught up with something.”

“Mmmhmm,” Naomi sounds with that knowing look. “I’m sure you did.”

Solana looks away, wanting and needing to hide her blush as Roman asks in an annoyed voice, “where is he?”

“Here.” The four of them redirect their attention to the sound of Jimmy and the other two men he’s with: Jey and Carmelo.

Naturally, Solana goes to observe the indirect interaction between Jey and Roman, searching for any sigh of contempt. It’s definitely there. She can see it in the way Roman’s shoulders tense and how Jey looks away, Solana noticing the faded bruises on his face as well as the bandage over a still healing cut.

Swallowing, Solana moves over to them. “Hey.” 

Jimmy pulls her into a side hug without needing initiation, but it’s not missed upon her how Jey seems to hesitate to hug her, the tension in his body as well as the way he almost awkward way he clears his throat and looks away. 

She tries not to make too much of it, but it’s hard not to.

Carmelo steps forward, giving a nod. “Ma’am.”

That makes her smile return. “I told you before, you can just call me Solana.”

“Ma’am is fine,” Roman’s deep voice cuts through, Solana not needing to turn around, hearing his heavy footsteps behind her. “You’re late.”

Carmelo swallows. “I’m sorry—”

“I don’t care,” Roman is instantly dismissive, focusing his attention on his wife as he goes into an unnecessary introduction. “Solana, this is—”

“I know,” she cuts him off with a gentle smile, explaining, “I met him at the party.”

At that, Romans’ thick eyebrows cave inward. “What?”

“He was there, Big Dog.”

‘“I–I was there, sir.”

Roman scowls, completely ignoring his cousin and the other irrelevant man. “He was?” He looks over at his wife, asking, “you invited him too?”

Solana nods. “I asked the twins to invite whoever it was you found to help me train, because I wanted to meet him beforehand,” she explains, turning to Carmelo again, “thank you again for—agreeing to help me.”

Carmelo opens his mouth, unsure just how to express that he didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter. Or one at all. 

“He was there the whole time,” Naomi shares from where she stretches on one of the mats, Jimmy focused on her ass as she bends over. 

“You were too busy trying not to kill and cuss everybody out,” Bayley walks over, earning a hardened look from Roman that she pays no mind to. “Alright, so Solana is obviously a small human being, but she’s fast and hell and can maneuver quickly. That makes her hard to catch. Those are her strengths. She’s also pretty damn good with a knife.” Solana is a bit unsure how to feel about that part. “But, she’s only ever trained with women, hence why you’re here, Melo.”

“She also wants to learn how to do the spear.”

Roman’s statement earns a round of surprised expressions from everyone except Carmelo.

He looks terrified. “The—the spear?” He gestures with a crooked, slightly trembling index finger. “From—from you?”

“Who the fuck else?” Is Roman’s objectively rude reply, Solana having to stop herself from placing her hand on his forearm. He could try to be a little nicer. 

“You supposed to get a spear from him?” A new voice sounds, Solana not recognizing the man with a deep complexion, multiple piercings and an….interesting hairstyle. He shakes his head. “You gon die!”

Solana’s mouth drops as Bayley and Naomi laugh aloud. Jimmy is the one to ask, “R Truth, where did you even come from?”

He scowls, pointing downward. “Boss man said meet him here.”

“I said at the office, Truth. Not the Warehouse.” Jey finally speaks, Solana realizing it’s the first time he’s done so. He sounds annoyed, and she’s not sure if it’s just because of the scene unfolding before them. Or something that he’s clearly still not over.

“Yo? Forreal?” Jey runs his hand over his face. “That’s—that’s my bad.” He looks to Roman, nodding. “Tribal Chief.” He looks at Solana, again nodding, “Mrs. Tribal Chief.” He then gestures to the rest of the group. “Ya’ll be safe now.” Pointing to Carmelo, he adds, “‘cept’ for you, you already dead.”

Solana has so many questions, even as this strange man walks away, Jey muttering something incoherent before he seems to follow after this R-Truth person. 

Once those two men are gone, Carmelo nervously clears his throat. “Tribal Chief, if I can, who better to train her than y—”

“Shut up,” Roman says it so lazily. It’s as he crosses his massive arms over each other that Solana has to briefly look away, finding herself growing….distracted. He’s so damn muscular. “She’s comfortable with me. That won’t help her learn.”

Roman easily transitions into providing basic information about the spear, best ways to time it, stances, ways to land it and whatnot. She’s following, as best she can, at least. Because this exhaustion she’s experiencing is making it ten times harder to be present in the moment, and that’s made evident by the gap in her focus when one moment Roman is explaining, and the next he’s rushing towards Carmelo.

Solana gasps as Roman spears the other man with a ferocity and intensity that seems almost animal-like.

Eyes wide, hands over her mouth, Solana has to wince at a pain she didn’t even experience. But, one didn’t have to be on the receiving end of that to know it had to hurt like hell. 

Roman stands up so unbothered and nonchalant, readjusting his almost always perfect bun.

“Gotta give him his props. No one does a spear quite like Roman,” Bayley chuckles, arms crossed as Solana continues to stare in shock.

Jimmy casually walks by and peers over an unmoved Carmelo. “Ayo, Uce, I think he dead.” The faintest sound of pained whining fills the air, prompting Jimmy to correct himself. “Never mind. He alive.”

“Barely,” Naomi mumbles.

“He shouldn’t be so weak,” is Roman’s pompous defense as he redirects his attention to a still startled Solana. “Make sense?”

There’s a brief delay in between the time she nods slowly and speaks. “But, I—I don’t think I can do that.”

A small smile falls on Roman’s face as he explains, “it’s not going to be the exact same, Solana. I’m significantly bigger than you. Plus, spearing a man is different than spearing a woman.”

“What if I need to spear a man?”

His expression hardens as he affirms, “he’d have to get through me first to fucking touch you.”

Solana doesn’t say anything after that. Just waits for Carmelo to recover as they transition to the one-on-one portion. Solana is rolling her shoulders, trying to get in as much stretching as she can to hopefully loosen up her body more and shed away the almost fatigue she’s feeling.

It’s unfamiliar and inconvenient as hell considering what she’s about to do.

She’s in earshot range too when Roman grabs Melo’s arm and warns in the chilliest tone, “leave one fucking mark on her, and I’ll break every bone in your goddamn body.”

A heavy sigh leaves her body. She understands Roman’s protectiveness, but truthfully, Carmelo is doing them a favor. He doesn’t have to be here. 

Then again….maybe he does.

She doesn’t put it beyond her husband to threaten people on her behalf. 

Not in the slightest.

And on one hand, she’s partially grateful for the obvious care and mindfulness Carmelo is utilizing as he trains with her, it’s definitely helpful from her trauma standpoint. Helps for them to not be as physical as she typically is with Bayley and Naomi. 

However, it's painfully obvious that Carmelo is doing his damn hardest to minimize any and all physical contact between the two of them. A part of her appreciates it, but a larger part of her finds it a bit annoying. It’s sparring. Not interpretive dancing. 

Solana manages to swipe Carmelo off his feet, growing a bit frustrated when he intentionally takes longer to get up. “This doesn't help me,” she sighs, hands on her hips as she takes a second to steal a much needed breath. “Roman, can you please tell him—”

She’s cut off by being swiped by her ankles, tumbling forward to the floor. Carmelo is suddenly over her, flipping her onto her back, Solana not hesitating to move her knee between his stupidly open legs. He groans from the impact, and she takes that opportunity to bar her forearm across his neck, switching them so that he’s on his back with her hovering over him.

However, anything more is cut short by that small interaction alone knocking the wind out of her.

Climbing off him, she moves onto her hands and knees, eyes shut and head dropped. Neither from feeling triggered or even being in pain, just exhaustion.

She’s so damn drained. 

In what feels like seconds, Roman is at her side, hand on her back. “Solana, what’s wrong?”

She shakes her head, answering quickly, “I’m just—tired.” More than what’s normal for her. Training is usually draining, but considering they haven’t even been at it that long, she’s confused as to why she’s getting so winded. Lifting her head, she offers a small smile. “I’m fine.”

“No.” Roman dismisses it with the quickness, directing to the others. “We’re done for the day.”

“Roman, I’m fine. I’m just—probably out of shape.” Maybe, but this feels beyond that. She’s just so fatigued. He helps her to her feet, Solana trying to bargain, “at least let me finish with Bayley?”

He’s not hearing it. “No. You clearly need to ease back into things.” She frowns. I thought I was. “Head to the showers.”

“Roman—”

“He’s right, Solana,” Naomi suddenly sounds, walking over with Bayley. “You’re clearly tired and just need to ease back into and relearn some things. That’s okay. We can do this another day. When you’re at 100.”

“Or maybe she can just continue to train with ya’ll—”

And in perfect synchronized dismissiveness, Roman, Bayley, and Naomi all shut Carmelo down with a simple, “shut up.”

It cracks a smile on Solana’s face. The fact that the majority of them are in agreement is enough to make her realize that they’re probably right in that she should try another day. Maybe even easing back into it. Not necessarily the part about relearning. She remembers everything. Recall is not the problem. This fatigue is, but a part of her is starting to think she knows what it might be.

Just why she’s so fatigued.

And in true Jimmy fashion, he blurts out with the ill timed question, “aye, Soso, what’s for dinner today?”

————

“So why exactly are you fighting again?”

It’s not the first time she’s asked this question. No, it’s been posed at least three different times prior to this occurrence. Just different wording. A different question that’s garnered the same kind of answer every single time. 

A part of her recognizes this, but a part of her also doesn’t care.

Solana has always been under the impression, and has essentially been told by several people, Roman included, that he doesn’t really fight in the ring anymore. That he doesn’t need to. That he doesn’t have anything to prove to anyone, and those words came from him directly.

So, she was and still is, confused when he told her of a match he was competing in. The theme of the fight night being Bad Blood not helping much. At all.

Still, there was no way in hell she would miss attending. Even if her presence wasn’t something that’s technically mandatory. She wants to support him. She’s just nervous about the notion of him being in the ring again, recalling the last time she witnessed such a thing. It was brutal and bloody, and while he came out with the win, relatively unscathed, it still makes her nervous. Because there’s always a chance something can go wrong.

Because she always worries about him, and she’s pretty sure she always will. So long as he is who he is.

Roman, however, couldn’t give two shits about this fight with Drew. Tonight is more of a political move than anything, Roman needing a very public and brutal display of his prowess to remind everyone why he sits at the Head of the Table. It’s truly just an added bonus that he gets to kick the shit out of Drew in the process.

Or worse.

Roman is more focused, borderline distracted, by Solana. The sexy red dress she has on leaves little to the imagination with the low neckline, tight fit, and short length that stops about mid-thigh, rolling even higher as she’s propped on the bathroom counter. Her hair is pinned up, and her makeup is on the lighter, almost undetectable, side. His preference. She’s stunning with and without it, but there’s something he enjoys most seeing her in her natural state.

She just looks good as hell, and if not for the importance of this evening, he’d say fuck this damn match and Drew and spend the rest of the evening with her. A much more desirable and preferable option, truly. But, duty and obligation before anything. 

Even his fine ass wife.

Roman waits until he’s slid the black hoodie over his head, smirking a bit at the slight disappointment that appears on Solana’s face at him no longer being shirtless. He decides to slide through that crevice of brief deflection.

“You know the same way you look at me is the same way I look at and think about you.” He’s walking toward her, big hands carefully spreading her thighs so he can step in between her legs. This close, he’s granted a perfect view of her equally perfect breast. “All the damn time.”

He’s unsurprised when her cheeks redden nor when she says anything. “A challenge was issued, and I need to send a message.” That’s a much simpler way of explaining the full scope of just what tonight is, but he also doesn’t want to bombard her with information she doesn’t necessarily need to know.

She licks her lips, and he hates how sexual such an innocent act looks, especially when he knows that’s not her intent. “What—what kind of message?”

A potentially brutal, bloody message, but painting that picture for her beforehand might create some unnecessary anxiety. “A message that won’t need to be repeated.”

That seems to register for her as she asks, “Are—are you nervous?”

That actually makes Roman laugh. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt that emotion. It’s been years. Many decades. Moving his hands to her waist, he tugs her closer to him. “I don’t get nervous, Solana.”

“Ever?”

“Naw.”

She’s still looking at him with that same level of trepidation, maybe even a bit more heightened actually. “But….but you’re still careful, right?” It seems like an otherwise silly question with an obvious answer, but Roman can see where she’s coming from. The fear that fuels it. “Like….like you pay attention and stuff?”

“Of course,” his answer is gentle and patient. Two things reserved strictly and solely for her. “Solana, I’ve been fighting my whole life. I know what I’m doing.”

Her eyes widen, and he just knows he’s in for an unnecessary apology. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean—”

“Baby.” Yup. Just as he predicted. Bringing his hand to the back of her neck, Roman extends that tenderness, explaining, ��I know what you meant. You’re worried, and you shouldn’t be. I’ve got this. Alright?”

She nods a little, and he’s relieved to see some of her apprehension has melted away. With the hand still on her hip, he gives her a light squeeze. “Come on.” Roman stays close as she carefully slides off the counter, her heels giving her a bit of a height boost, but not enough to make a substantial difference. He still towers over her.

And it’s in looking down at her from this angle, and the quick glance of her ass in this dress through the bathroom mirror, he makes a face. “Then again….” Roman slides his hand from the back of her neck, down until he’s palming and squeezing her ass. “Maybe this will be a bit of a distraction.”

“Roman!” She yelps, and he groans at the feel of her. She’s so damn fine and thick in all the right areas that it doesn’t even make sense.

He moves to take her hand, kissing it before guiding her out of the bathroom. “Come on. Before your fine ass makes us late.”

She giggles, holding onto his arm while he hits the light switch. “I didn’t even do anything.”

Roman says nothing, because if only she fucking knew.

If only.

————

Solana was half expecting to be separated from Roman once they reached the warehouse, him needing time to prepare for the fight and whatnot. And while the latter part was true, the first wasn’t. She’s thoroughly surprised when he instead guides her to the back with him to his sizable, impressive locker room.

Roman directs Solana to make herself comfortable, which is almost impossible to do.

It’s hard because she can’t stop thinking about the fact that her husband is going to be in the ring with that man who looked like he would have killed Roman right there on the spot, if he could. The same expression she’s certain he’ll have tonight when it’s just the two of them. 

A part of her is starting to wish she would have sat this one out. Stayed home tonight. Her hand falls to her stomach. That irksome, borderline nauseous feeling has been with her all day. On and off the past week, really. Since trying to return to training earlier in the week. She’s certain a chunk of it has been nerves, but the rest of it, maybe most of it, she’s almost certain, is early onset pregnancy symptoms. 

Just thinking about the fact that a baby, her baby, their baby is growing inside of her belly warms her entire soul. Temporarily distracts her from worrying about Roman. To wondering. Wondering which of his features their child will inherit. Will he or she have his dark, raven, wavy hair? His smoldering brown, almost hazel like eyes? Will the baby take after her brunette locks? Her nose?

In all honesty, she only wants a healthy child. That’s the most important thing, but it’s also hard for her to not lean more on the side of wanting the baby to be a boy. She knows how important producing an heir is. For the Bloodline. For Roman. Especially with how he’s gone above and beyond to keep pressure off them, off her regarding their lack of an heir.

It’s the least she can do for him. He deserves it. 

And she’d love more than anything to give it to him.

Roman stepping back into the vicinity briefly pulls her from her thoughts.

“You alright?”

Naturally, her hand falls from her stomach as she manages a small smile and nod. “Yeah.” She takes in his appearance, noticing his hair is wet and drenched, water droplets rolling down that nearly perfect body she’s grown to love pressed against hers. Not even just for sex. Just in general. Roman’s touch is calming to her. 

Climbing down off the table where she sits, she moves over to him. “Are you?”

He chuckles, hand to her hip. “Always.”

She has to believe that. 

Solana goes to kiss him when the Wise Man walks back in, forcing her to settle for a hand to his cheek. “Be careful.”

He clearly hears the presence of someone else and only nods, his eyes conveying the unspoken ‘I love you.’ She just offers him a warm smile before she retracts her hand and moves to leave the room, only providing her husband’s chief advisor a quiet ‘hello.’

Security escorts her up to the same VIP seating area as the last couple of times she’s attended events like this at the Warehouse. And as usual, Bayley and Naomi are already sitting and waiting for her. 

“Had to give your man that good luck quickie right before, huh?”

Bayley’s comment makes Solana blush and aware of the hickey on her neck she didn't even bother trying to hide. Or the one near her breast. 

“She didn’t deny it either,” Naomi snickers, playfully shoving Solana. 

Instead of acknowledging their innuendos, she utilizes an actual productive use of time. “I was thinking.”

“Listening,” Bayley responds, the two ladies keenly focused on the new topic. 

“Roman has to go out of town next week for……business.” She tries to not think too much about that. It’ll only spike her worry. 

“Who’s going to stay with you?” Naomi asks, gesturing to the two of them. “He didn’t ask us.” 

Solana swallows. That's definitely something she wants to work on with him. The fact that he still blames them for what happened. “Nia.”

“Nia?” 

To be fair, Solana had a bit of the same reaction when Roman first told her his cousin would be staying with her. She’s certain it was…..an interesting discussion, to say the least.

Solana shrugs. “She’s not that bad.” And it’s true. Solana has received much worse from people, in terms of treatment. “And it’s really just….to give me my medicine and stuff.” Because Roman seemed vehemently against and shut it down so fast when she even approached the idea of being able to handle it on her own. Not that….not that she can blame him, per se. “But, I was thinking. What if we went to Isla Mujeres for the weekend? Like that girls trip we were talking about.”

“You talk to Roman about it?”

Solana shakes her head, explaining. “Nia would be with us, so I’m sure he’d be fine.” Because she is. Now, if Nia doesn’t come along, then that’s another story. Though something tells her that once she tells Roman she wants to do this, he’ll find a way to make Nia go along with the plan. 

“I think it could be fun,” Naomi shares, rubbing her hands together. “From the pictures you showed us, the beach looks beautiful.”

“It is,” Solana smiles. “I want to invite Cam, Mickie, and Melina too.”

“So do it,” Bayley encourages. “It’s your girls trip. You decide on the guest list. Melina has always been cool. I didn’t know she…..struggled the way she does, but I’ve always liked her.” Solana is appreciative of Bayley’s handling of Melina’s mental health struggles. “And Cam and Mickie seem cool too.”

“They are,” Solana agrees. They really helped her time spent in the hospital and the treatment facility go a lot easier than it could have been. 

As per usual, conversation flows naturally between the ladies only to minimize once the night begins, all three paying attention to the various matches, mostly the ones that pertain to the Bloodline. 

So, really, Jimmy and Jey’s tag team match against two men that Solana doesn’t recognize, which, of course, the twins come out with the win for. And Roman’s match, the last of the night, because no one comes after the Tribal Chief.

The complete shift in energy when Roman enters the space is truly something to behold. His power and dominance is felt in every square inch of the building. Undeniable excellence and power penetrating almost. She can’t take her eyes off him, his face stoic, determined, focused.

She can see why he doesn’t get nervous. He seems so in his element in this space. Even as Drew comes out with that same level of determination, an almost hatred splayed across his face as he looks over at Roman with ardent vitriol.

Her husband, however, is unbothered.

As he is with most things in life.

Still, the fact that Drew is about what and what with Roman in regards to build and size has her anxiety festering. She knows and has seen for herself how flawless Roman is in the ring. That doesn’t mean she can’t worry though. Can’t wait for this to all just be over with so they can go home.

So she can start figuring out just how she wants to tell him about the pregnancy.

But, that’s a then thing, and this is very much here and now.

The sound of the bell fills the Warehouse as the boisterous crowd continues to erupt, excited to see their Tribal Chief in action.

If only she could relate. 

For the most part, the match starts off as expected, Roman being in the lead, staying one or several steps ahead of Drew, expertly dodging or countering hits. Solana is practically on the edge of her seat, chewing on her bottom lip, watching every single piece of the fight. From Roman’s steps to Drew’s lunges to the way both men who seem too large for life go at it like two titans.

Of course, despite looking like one, Roman is no God. He’s still a man, a man who takes several hits from Drew, one making Solana wince. However, she learned from the night of WarGames, Roman hates being hit. It only pisses him off more than he naturally is at any given point. 

And that’s proven in the increased brutality of Roman’s hits, Drew being the first to have blood spilled as Roman smashes his head in the steel staircase. 

It’s a quick shift though that she somehow misses, because Drew suddenly has Roman in a painful looking headlock. One he seems to take too long to get out of, for her comfort. 

Solana moves to the absolute edge of her seat, panic starting to set in the longer Roman’s airway is restricted. And then she sees the way Drew’s mouth moves, the snarl and subsequent smirk as he says something to Roman. Roman’s briefly stunned eyes flickering to hers, but it’s so short, too short to process. Because just as quickly as he was looking at her, he’s managed his way out of the headlock, sending the other man to the ground. Roman wastes no time jumping on top of him, gaining and taking full advantage of the upper hand, raining blow on top of blow on Drew with a pace and aggression that seems almost inhuman.

The light blue of the mat is suddenly splashed and splayed with blood. Drew’s. Roman’s chest and fist also stained, Solana wincing a bit as even from a distance she sees the way Drew's face has become almost disfigured by blood, bruising, and swelling. 

He’s clearly lost consciousness, but that doesn’t stop Roman.

No, instead a deep frown falls on her face as she watches Roman move outside of the ring and lift up the metal staircase that he brings back into the ring with him. She turns her head right before the impact between the steps and the unconscious man.

Unalive man, because there’s no way Drew is still breathing. Not with the severity of the beating. 

Bayley and Naomi are clearly also taken back by witnessing a live murder but clearly do their best not to make it a thing for her sake. She’s appreciative, but it still doesn’t delete her confusion towards Roman’s behavior.

Overkill. Barbaric. Sadistic, almost. 

And with all of that, the confliction she’s experiencing, Solana can only think of one thing, what the hell happened in that ring to bring about that kind of rage in her husband?

————

Roman doesn’t say much to her.

It’s not surprising. She’s not quite sure what there is to say. Him viciously beating a man to death isn’t, at the core of it, something that needs explaining.

That doesn’t stop her from trying to almost dance around the subject. Asks him if he’s feeling alright, if he wants her to fix him anything, and things of the sort. It doesn’t do much. His responses are minimal, a few words to each statement, at best.

It bothers her to know something is bothering him, that he won’t talk to her, but also, Solana can admit she’s not sure how to talk with him about this.

She’d certainly do her best though, if he was actually willing to open up to her. 

She doesn’t force it though, just welcomes his arms around her as they lay in bed, eventually falling asleep together. 

However, Dulce does what Dulce does best and wakes up in the middle of the night, politely reminding her parents of her small bladder. Regardless of her sleep intrusion, Solana is grateful to be able to escort their puppy out of the room without disturbing her husband’s much needed and deserved sleep. 

But, it’s as Dulce seems to take her sweet time finding the perfect spot to relieve herself that Solana frowns. Lifting her hand to her breast, she’s taken back by the tenderness of the touch. New and out of the norm. 

Another……symptom?

Even with the night’s unexpected events, as much as she’s trying to not allow herself to get too excited at the possibility of being pregnant, it’s hard not to. Especially with the strange onset of symptoms she’s been experiencing all week. Some seen before or during her cycle, but some new and unfamiliar. And a quick google search confirmed they in fact could be early pregnancy symptoms.

But still, Solana has gained enough self-introspection to know that a negative test would be…..difficult for her to process. Something she doesn’t really even want to think about, hence why she’s not allowing herself to fully acknowledge that she’s probably pregnant.

Because the alternative would be…..not the desired outcome.

It’s as she observes the backyard, seeing the reflection of the lights above the pool that a random thought crosses her mind. A question, rather. Would they have to cover up the pool when the baby starts crawling? What other changes around the house would have to be implemented for safety reasons? Most definitely, they’d have to stock up on those baby proof outlet covers. And maybe even block off the staircase.

Something tells her any child of her husband would be mobile. On the run. A small smile settles on her face, her hand falling to her belly as she once again mentally puts together what their child will look like. Him. Her. Both of them.

Both would be her preference. Roman would be a close second.

Dulce’s short legs carry her back into the house, her wagging tale eliciting a smile and small laugh. “Good job—”

“Where the hell were you?”

Solana jumps and gasps. Outside of his sudden presence in the living room startling her, Roman's tone and volume indicate a level of irritation that doesn’t quite compute. Doesn’t make sense. Where else would she have been? 

Confused, she answers, “Dulce had to use the bathroom...”

This didn’t seem to be the answer he neither wanted nor needed. His expression is sharp. “So you went out there alone?”

This brings a frown to her face, a contrast to her almost jovial disposition not even minutes prior. Solana points out in a calm voice, “Roman, I–I always go alone.”

“Not anymore.” She can’t protest, because he adds. “Wake me up, and if I’m not here, let her use the damn crate.”

“But—”

“You heard what I said!”

His voice bounces off the walls and echoes through the hall, but it’s Solana’s jump away from him that seems to trigger something for Roman. His expression immediately softens. “Shit, I’m sorry, I–I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

She says nothing for a good minute before quickly deciding that beating around the bush isn’t the way to go in this situation.

She needs to be direct.

“Ro….what happened tonight?” 

She’d briefly played around with the idea of bringing it up to him or letting it lie. Obviously, the latter is not the best route to go. “You….you were off. You lost control, and that’s….that’s not like you.”

In the ring is when she’s noticed he’s most controlled, never allowing his emotions to cloud his judgment and actions because he recognizes the detriment it would cause. Yes, he’s violent and brutal, but it’s still controlled. Not tonight. …tonight she saw that impulsive, emotion driven man she’d heard whispers about over the years. Tonight, she saw him take a man’s life, and not in a controlled methodical way, but in a moment of pure rage and spontaneity. 

She’d never tell him this, never allow it to leave her mouth, but for a split second, it scared her. Solana wasn’t naive enough to truly think that his kindness or love toward her made him any less of a cold-blooded killer. And she knows, without a shadow of a doubt that he would never hurt her or direct his anger towards her.

But.

 But, the look in his eyes tonight…it was as if he had no soul. 

And that….that is what scared her. 

His gaze darts to the corner of the room, an intentional act to avoid her own, she’s sure. “He pissed me off.”

“Ro….people piss you off all the time, and you don’t beat them to death like you did him.” It’s such a strange experience, speaking with him so casually. Solana can still recall the tightness in her chest every time she was in the vicinity of this man, the fear she struggled to manage when even looking at him, often keeping her gaze downward. And now, she’s pushing him on what is obviously a lie. Or a deep state of denial. “He—he said something to you.” That’s when he finally sets his eyes on her. “I–I saw it.”

“Does it matter now?” 

“Yes—yes, it does, because you just snapped at me for taking our dog out to use the bathroom, something I’ve done for months now.” It’s not until saying that aloud that a thought crosses her mind. “Was—was it about me? Did—did he say something about me?” And when he says nothing, doesn’t deny it or push back or even snap at her again that she realizes that’s exactly what it was.

And it confuses the mess out of her. 

What could have been said to cause him to react so violently? Even more, how could it have been any different from the shit talking they all do in the ring?

“I don’t—I don’t understand.” Her eyes follow him as he moves toward the living room, sitting on the edge of the sofa. Tentatively and without much thought, her legs carry her toward him, but she stops just shy of being at arms length. Noticing this, Roman motions her closer with his index finger. And as soon as she’s close enough, he tugs her onto his lap. Seeing the conflict in his eyes, she moves her hand to his bicep. “Baby, please talk to me…..”

Like many, if not any, interaction with her comforting urge, Roman finds it difficult to deny her. He struggles to push back those words that have secretly haunted him even hours after he put a permanent end to McIntyre. 

“You really think you can keep her safe?” His cruel taunt, wicked smile revealing the blood building in his mouth, coating his teeth. “She’ll die just like rest of your fucking fam—”

“Ro…”

And it's her soft voice that pulls him from the memory as he shares with her what was said. “He said I couldn’t keep you safe, that you’d die like the rest of my family.” She gasps. Whatever was said had to have been bad and most likely somehow about her. She just didn’t know it would be that.

Shaking her head, she pushes his hair back. “He was just…he was just trying to get in your head.” And I think it worked. Solana would never verbalize as such to Roman, but it’s a thought she can’t dismiss. She’s never seen him this bothered. “Nothing—nothing’s going to happen to me, Ro.”

“I told you before that I don’t—I don’t feel things like you. That I don’t—feel anything.” She remembers it vividly. That conversation between them that was during the early days of their love story. Something that feels so long ago now. “I was wrong. I’ve—I’ve always felt anger, but now I’m feeling other things too, and I don’t know how—” He stops himself, clearly changing directions. “I’m sorry I did that in front of you—”

“It’s fine, Ro. I—” Because despite that brief second of ear, her first and foremost concern is him. It’s always him. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

He’s quiet for a moment, sharing in an almost unsure voice. “I count your pills every day before I go to bed.” She’s still, unmoving, unsure how to process such a thing. Because she knows why, exactly why he does that. And it nearly breaks her heart in fucking half. “Losing you is the only thing in this fucking world that scares me.” Voice shifting into something desperate and almost vulnerable, he says with all the conviction. “Because, I can’t lose you, Sol.” His gaze is on her, burning with determination. And need. “I won’t.”

“And you won’t.” Her hands move to his face, beard bristling against the skin on her palms. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” She places an almost tentative, chaste kiss to his temple, noticing how his eyes close after. As if he’s more at peace. “Roman, I am with you until my dying breath, and that won’t be happening anytime soon. Not for you. Not for me.”

And not for their child growing inside of her.

“Why don’t—why don’t we go see Fetu this weekend?” It’s technically early Saturday morning already, and Solana returns to work Monday, but even just a day or two spent with his aunt could probably make a difference for her husband who she sees needs to get away. “Or even if you just go—I can stay—”

“No.” His voice is still low, but it’s not as weighed down. She’s grateful for at least that. “She’d be pissed if I showed up without you.” The hint of humor in his voice makes her heart swell. 

“We’ll go.” It’s not necessarily a suggestion anymore. It’s a plan. “You’ll clear your head, and everything will be better, okay?” He looks at her, nodding quietly. Solana makes a mental note to make sure to pack one or two pregnancy tests, because what better way to break the news to him than being able to tell Fetu right after? Together.

It seems like a perfect plan to her. 

Noticing Dulce has already left and went back upstairs, Solana suggests the same to her husband. “Let’s go back to bed, okay?”

It’s then that Solana realizes his hand on her hip is moving in slow, soothing circles. She can’t tell if it’s for his comfort or hers. Placing her hand over his, she gives a gentle tug, moving off his lap but never allowing her hand to leave his. 

His movements are slow initially, but he stands up and allows her to guide them up the stairs and back into their bedroom. Solana easily resumes their earlier sleeping position, grateful and thankful when he kisses her temple and murmurs, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

The exact moment when she falls asleep, or even when he does, is unknown. But what is known is when she’s woken up to the sound of grunts and muttered protests.

“I’ve gotta….save…them.”

Solana blinks and rubs at her eyes. “Ro?”

Sitting up, she sees him twisting and turning, an almost distressed look on his handsome face. Her heart drops. A nightmare. He’s having a nightmare.

Naturally, Solana moves her hand to his shoulder, shaking him a bit. “Roman, wake up.” She might as well have done nothing, because he’s continuing to stir, mumbling in Samoan. Voice so low that even if she did speak the language, she wouldn’t hear him. 

Without thinking twice about it, Solana climbs on top of him, straddling him as she continues her efforts to awaken him. “Roman, baby, please wake up.” It’s both familiar and unfamiliar. She knows this struggle very well. Has lived through it almost her entire life, but she’s never been on this end. Been on the side of watching someone go through it.

Least of all, Roman. 

And she hates it. Hates it with everything in her because she knows how heavy and devastating it is to be sucked into reliving trauma. That’s why she ups the ante, raising her voice and essentially hitting him on his shoulders.

“Roman! Wake u—”

“No!” 

It all happens so fast. Almost too fast for Solana to truly process what’s occurring in the moment. It’s only afterwards that she can recount it, can recall what just happened, can process that at the same time she went to try to save him from himself, Roman shot awake with an instinctive swing, a natural, almost protective thing that results in Solana shoved to the edge of the bed, mouth open, holding onto her face. 

It’s an instant stinging sensation, a dull, throbbing pain that she hasn’t felt in some time and never anticipated feeling as a result of her own husband. 

A husband who is now awake and also aware of what just happened. His widened eyes and open mouth are on her as Solana winces a bit and flexes her jaw, trying to gather herself. He’s up. That’s the only thing that matters. 

“Oh my God.” She’s not sure she’s ever heard Roman sound so horrified. “Solana—”

Her name is enough to pull her back to him, Solana climbing on his lap, shaking her head as she cups his face. “It’s okay. I’m—I’m okay—”

“I hit you….”

Even him saying it aloud seems and feels wrong to Solana. “No, baby—you were having a nightmare. It wasn’t like that—”

“I hit you, Solana.” He’s not even looking at her, looking down, perplexed, disturbed with himself, clearly trying to sit on this unfathomable thing. 

“Roman, I’m fine. Really.” Her face is throbbing, and she’s certain she’ll have a bruise come morning, but it’s nothing compared to what she’s received in the past. From the actual hitting she used to be on the receiving end of. From her dad and brother. “Ro, I did the same thing to you, remember? I—I ripped out your stitches.” It’s something she felt horrified at herself for in the moment. Probably close to what he’s feeling even though she’d rather he not because he’s done nothing wrong. “Baby—”

Shaking his head, Roman lowers her hands from his face. “I’m sorry.” She goes to reassure him that he’s fine, that she’s fine, but Roman is fast, easily moving the blankets off him, forcing her to the side, off him. 

“Roman, no—” She scrambles off the bed as he goes for the door of their bedroom, effectively planting herself in front of it. “No, you’re not leaving.”

He closes his eyes, his voice almost desperate. “Solana, please.”

“No!” Raising her voice wasn’t an intentional thing, just a result of her own emotions brewing in this moment. She’s not even thinking about herself, about the pain in her face. She’s just thinking about the man in front of her who looks disgusted with himself. “Roman, I am fine.”

Because she is.

Because even with all of her trauma, having been hurt so deeply and badly by men, Roman unintentionally striking her didn’t fill her with an ounce of fear. Didn’t make her want to put as much distance between them as possible. Didn’t have any effect on how she sees and feels about him.

She could only focus on him and how distressing his nightmare must have been to result in such a response. 

“I hurt you….” It’s the way his voice almost wavers with the word ‘hurt’ along with his fraught countenance that has her chest tightening. She’s never seen him look so upset, and the fact that it’s solely directed toward himself is gut-wrenching. 

“No,” her voice catches in the back of throat, eyes watering. She reaches up and cups his face. “Baby, listen to me. You could never hurt me.”

Something flashes in his eyes, something akin to anger as he asks in a tight voice, “But, I did." She shakes her head, ready to stand here all night trying to convince him that he’s not in the wrong when he takes it a step further. “How is it any different from your dad and brother?”

It’s an active effort to not back away from him, to not drop her hands and for no reason other than putrid disgust. Disgust that he could even fix his mouth to say such a thing. To put himself into that category. 

Solana swallows, specifically choosing each and every word that leaves her mouth. “Roman…I was raped. Violently. For—for hours. I couldn’t—I couldn’t walk afterwards.” She hates talking about this, hates reliving the horrors just from recounting, but she’ll do just about anything to wipe away that gutted, guilty look on her husband’s face. “Wes—Wes was the reason I first started cutting myself, because—” She closes her eyes, having never said these words aloud to anyone. “Because he made me do it. He said it was my—my punishment for getting our mother killed. And eventually….eventually I started to believe him, so I just started doing it to myself, because I thought it was what I deserved.” Another deep, shaky exhale. “My own father tried to kill me.” Roman’s expression slips into something in the vein of surprised. Confused even. Horrified, mostly. “I tried to run away once, and he put me in the hospital for two weeks and told me that if I ever tried to leave again that he’d— he’d make sure to finish the job.”

Roman doesn’t say anything, and truth be told, she’s not sure she wants him to. She just wants him to listen, really listen and allow her words to penetrate his thick layer of undeserved guilt. “You are the first man in my life to never hurt me the way I’ve been hurt, so don’t you ever fucking say again that you hurt me or put yourself in the same category as those bastards. You are nothing like them.” Because she’d rather walk barefoot on burning coal for the rest of her life than for him to ever even think he’s in the same group as them. “So, please, please just—” 

Solana feels it rising, traveling up her body at the most impromptu time. “Shit,” she curses, slapping her hand over her mouth as she dashes to the bathroom, hitting the light, barely making it to the toilet that, thankfully, is already open and ready for her to deposit what feels like everything she ate that day into the commode.

It’s such a miserable, uncomfortable experience, more or less dry heaving over the toilet in the middle of the night. 

Just added to the list of unfortunate things that have happened. A heavy wave of exhaustion washes over her as she lays her head down on her arm that’s stretched across the toilet seat. She feels like shit, and it has nothing to do with what just happened.

If only she could tell her husband that.

Because Roman is suddenly behind her, hand on the small of her back, asking if she’s alright. Glancing over at him, she shakes her head, mustering up a quiet excuse of it probably being something she ate.

He doesn’t look convinced, and Solana knows it’s because he’s somehow connecting this to what just happened. She’d give anything to be able to wipe that belief from his mind, to tell him it’s just morning sickness, a common pregnancy symptom.

Because with all of the dots connecting, there’s no doubt in Solana’s mind. Any test would just be a formality. She knows her body. 

She knows that she’s pregnant.

But, something tells her that telling Roman this will only make things worse. Make him feel even more guiltier than what he’s already experiencing. Would kill him to know he ‘hit’ her while she’s carrying his child. 

This isn’t the way she wants to tell him, either. Not like this. No, it needs to be…..special. After all he’s done and probably had to put up with in order to explain them not producing a child after almost eight months of marriage. She can’t announce it like this. 

He deserves better.

The wave passes as Solana stands up and flushes the toilet, moving over to the sink to brush her teeth, praying that’s the extent of it. For now, at least. Roman is watching and observing her closely the whole time. 

Mouth clean and stripped, somewhat, of that bitter aftertaste, she takes his hand and guides him back to their bedroom. Gratitude fills her when he doesn’t protest the way she practically climbs on top of him, her body resting on his, an intentional position to prevent him from trying to leave out without her noticing. 

“Stay with me….” It’s the only thing that leaves her mouth, a soft but firm delivery. It’s the only thing she wants and needs in this moment, for his arms to remain around her, holding her, the same way she’s holding him. 

The way she'll always hold onto him.

————

It’s purely a stroke of luck that allows Roman to wake up at the call of his biological clock and find that Solana is no longer atop him but sleeping on her side, back toward him, deeply immersed in much deserved slumber. 

But, it's not even a minute later that a heaviness overtakes him as he’s quickly reminded of what happened. Of what he did. What he did to her.

Roman doesn’t hesitate to carefully climb out of bed and move to Solana’s side, hitting the switch on the lamp for a clear presentation. Something he wasn’t ready for. Not in the slightest.

“Jesus Christ….”

Dread fills him all over again with the illumination of the lamp on Solana’s nightstand. Gives him a full, unobstructed view of the left side of her face. A not even fully formed, nasty looking bruise marring her features.

Roman knew that he had to hit her hard, that she had to be downplaying the impact, but the big ass, dark bruise can’t hide the hideous truth. The extent is ugly and evident. It’s a fucking miracle he didn’t fracture or break something. Because he absolutely could have. Not that that makes a huge difference, because regardless of the severity, he hit her. 

He fucking hit her. 

It feels undeserving, the way he reaches his hand to gently caress her marred face. His stomach clenches as he mutters the three words that could never change, lessen or take back what he’s done.

“I’m so sorry….” Because he is. Because Roman’s list of regrets in life is minimal. Less than the average person, of this, he’s sure. But this, what happened last night is easily at the top of that list. He doesn’t hesitate to turn the switch off, not wanting to have to see the consequences of his horrific actions, even if he should.

Even if he should have to face it. Should have to be faced with the one thing he swore he would never do.

Because that’s exactly what he’s done.

He doesn’t bother waking her up for her medication. Just leaves it in a small, ramekin-like bowl for her to take whenever she wakes up. With the night she had, he hopes she sleeps for a couple more hours.

And he’s grateful for the time he has to himself, to workout, to shower, to think, to act. Even if it’s all a bit of a blur.

Years. It’s been years since he’s experienced that type of rage. Since he’s blacked out like that. Because that’s exactly what happened. Roman remembers Drew’s ominous threat, recalls the beginning of the beating, but most after that is blotchy. Blurred. And the last time he felt that way….was the night he killed Rhodes' family.

Not that he regretted it then or now. Even Drew. No, what he regrets and doesn’t know how to process is that he lost that control in front of his wife. That he lost it with his wife, resulting in her battered face. 

Despite the horrors of trauma she’s experienced at the hands of men in her life and the fact that what happened was unintentional, it doesn’t negate what he did. It was wrong, and she didn’t deserve it. 

She doesn’t deserve to put up with any of the shit he’s dealing with right now.

What happened with Jey was something he hated having to do in front of her, but this….this is entirely different.

A line was completely crossed.

And it can’t happen again.

Much later that morning, closer to noon than anything is when Roman finds her in the kitchen changed out of her pajamas and into short shorts and a shirt. Normally, he’d be focused on how good she looks and how much he appreciates seeing her confidence grow to where she doesn’t try to hide her body. But, it’s hard with the dark bruising on her face.

She’s clearly in the middle of fixing something but walks over to him, warm smile on her face as she places her hand on his chest. “There you are.” She leans up and kisses him, sharing, “I was wondering when you’d come out. I’m fixing us lunch right quick before we get on the road.”

She turns back towards the counter right as he says her name. “Solana—”

“Do you want anything in particular?”

“Solana.”

“I can make—”

“Solana.” He says it a third and final time, seeing the way she pauses. Deflection. It’s intentional. She can clearly tell something is wrong. With a slow turn to look at him again, it takes everything in him to not look away. The fucking bruise. “I’m leaving tonight.”

Her small smile immediately drops into a deep scowl. “Wh—what?” He briefly redirects his gaze, focusing on the laces of his sneakers instead of the disappointment he knows he’s about to lay on her. “You want—you want to get on the road tonight?”

He takes a deep breath and forces himself to bite the bullet. There’s no need in stretching this out. “No, Solana, I’m—I’m flying out to Italy tonight.”

Nothing could have prepared him for the gutted look on her face. She’s clearly confused, smartly pointing out, “but—but you said you weren’t leaving until next week.”

His jaw clenches as he answers so calmly. “Plans changed.”

Her gaze is intense, her eyes never leaving his. “The plans changed or you changed them?” He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t have to. She already knows the answer. Solana swallows, eyes watering as she walks over to him. “Please don’t do this. Roman, what happened wasn’t your fault. I’m fine.”

“Solana, you are not fine. Have you seen your face?” It’s not intended to be harsh, and the coarseness in his tone is truly directed to no one but himself. “I know my strength. You know my strength. It’s a fucking miracle it’s not worse than what it already is. If I had hit you hard enough and at the right angle—”

“But, you didn’t.” She knows exactly what he’s getting at, and she refuses to allow him to travel down that dark 'what if' road. “Ro, I know you’re upset with yourself, but please don’t do this. You don’t need to leave. I don’t want you to leave.”

And deep down, he doesn’t want to leave. Would love to stay here and just go see his aunt with his wife, but that won’t solve anything. It’s putting an old band-aid on an open, deep wound. He needs to separate himself so that he can turn his feelings completely off. Disconnect and detach. 

Or sort through in a way that is violent and unacceptable here. Especially around Solana.

And that’s exactly what being in Italy, being around those people, could do for him. 

Roman tries to explain as such to his wife without going into too much detail.

“You’re right. I do need to get away. But, going by Fetu isn’t going to help this.” It’s not going to help, because he doesn’t have an abundance of confusion he needs to sort through. He has anger, aggression, rage. All unlocked by fucking McIntyre that he needs to do away with, and being around his aunt, cousin, and even wife won’t do it. “We can go when I get back—”

She closes her eyes. “Roman—”

“Solana.” He’ll be honest, he expected her to not be happy with his decision, but her level of emotionality seems on the higher end of normal. She seems more emotional than usual. “I love you.” And he always will. “But, what happened last night can’t happen again.”

He won’t let it happen again.

“What if—what if I leave?” She suggests, Roman frowning at the almost desperation in her tone. “I can go stay with Naomi or Bayley for a couple days. Give—give you space.”

“Solana—”

“Hell, even Nia, if that would make you feel better.”

“Sol—”

“Just please.” Her voice cracks as she grabs onto his shirt, begging almost, “please don’t leave me.” She buries herself into his chest, Roman holding her, wanting to assure her that he’s not leaving her. He’s leaving the situation to get a clear mind, to figure out what he needs to do. 

Because he wasn’t lying when he said there’s nothing in this world that scares him more than losing her. Than something happening to her. 

He just could have never anticipated that he could ever be a direct reason for something happening to her.

That something bad—or worse—could happen to her at his hands.

Because he swore he’d always protect her. 

And he always will.

Even if that danger is himself.

Even if it means doing what neither of them may want but is ultimately what’s best for her. 

Even if it breaks the heart that will always belong to her. 

Whether they’re together or not.

[oldsoul007]

coincidence

nicholas chavez x reader

based of this request: Hi! I have an ideia for Nicholas Chaves! Something inspire by "Coincidence", by Sabrina Carpenter. Something like Nic is dating the reader but he cheats her up with his ex, Victoria. A loooot of angsty

summary: nicholas cheats on y/n and it’s no coincidence

I had always felt a special connection with Nicholas. Our relationship had blossomed over time, filled with laughter, shared dreams, and deep conversations. We had become each other's confidants, our bond seemingly unbreakable.

One evening, I was scrolling through my phone when a message from a mutual friend, Cooper, popped up. It was a screenshot of Nicholas and his ex, Victoria, in a compromising position. My heart sank as I stared at the image, a mix of disbelief and pain flooding my senses.

I confronted Nicholas that night, my voice trembling with hurt. "How could you do this to us?" I asked, tears streaming down my face. Nicholas looked away, unable to meet my gaze.

"It was a mistake, y/n," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean for it to happen."

My voice trembled with anger as I confronted Nicholas. "How could you do this to us? I saw the messages, Nicholas. It's not a fucking coincidence."

Nicholas tried to defend himself, his voice rising in frustration. "It was a mistake, baby! I didn't mean for it to happen."

"A mistake?" My eyes filled with tears. "You don't just accidentally cheat on someone. If you loved me, you wouldn't have ever done this."

Nicholas looked away, unable to meet my gaze. "I do love you, y/n. I just... I got caught up in the moment." His eyes pleading for forgiveness

I shook my head, my heart breaking. "If you truly loved me, you would have never hurt me like this. It's not just about a moment, Nicholas. It's about trust, and you've destroyed it." “You know I should’ve known she’s always someone back in your life and in the same damn city as you on the same damn night.”

But my heart was heavy with pain as I looked at him. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of broken promises and shattered trust. It was a moment of raw honesty, a painful realization that love alone couldn't mend the damage that had been done.

But the damage was done. The trust we had built was shattered, replaced by a gaping wound in my heart. I felt a deep sense of betrayal, the weight of his actions pressing down on me.

“I’m leaving, I can’t even look at you right now” I said walking out of our shared apartment. “Baby come on, at least tell me where you’re going?” was the last thing I heard from Nicholas. I drove to coopers house because I couldn’t trust myself driving for longer. I look at my phone and see a stream and calls for Nicholas begging to know where i went.

The betrayal cut deep, leaving my feeling lost and heartbroken. In my moment of despair, I turned to Cooper, a trusted friend who always had a way of comforting me and making me feel safe.

With tears in my eyes, I made my way to Cooper's house, seeking solace and a place to stay. Cooper welcomed me with open arms, understanding my pain without needing words. As we sat together, I poured out my heart, letting out all the hurt and confusion that had been weighing me down. “God, I feel like such an idiot coop.” “This is not your fault y/n, Nicholas is the idiot, to cheat on you is fucking pathetic.”

Cooper listened attentively, offering a shoulder to lean on and a comforting presence. In that moment, I felt grateful for his unwavering support and friendship. I knew that with Cooper by my side, I would find the strength to heal and move forward from the heartache Nicholas had caused.

Days turned into weeks, and the pain didn't subside. Every corner of my life was a reminder of what we had lost. I would see couples walking hand in hand and feel a pang of sorrow, knowing that our own love story had been tainted by dishonesty.

I tried to move on, but the memories of Nicholas and our time together haunted me. The laughter we shared, the plans we made, all felt like a cruel joke now. I would often find myself staring at old photos, wondering where it all went wrong.

In the end, I realized that I deserved better. I deserved someone who would cherish me and remain faithful. As we began to pick up the pieces of my broken heart, I vowed never to let anyone let me feel this way again. The road to healing was long, but I knew I had the strength to walk it.

Nicholas had been trying to win me back ever since the night I found out about him cheating with his ex. Every attempt he made seemed to only reopen old wounds.

"Y/n, please, I made a mistake," Nicholas pleaded, his voice raw with emotion as we stood in my living room. "I want us to work things out."

My eyes flashed with hurt and anger. "A mistake? You think you can just say sorry and everything will be okay?" I retorted, my voice trembling. "You wanted to have both of us, Nicholas. You can't have it both ways."

Nicholas ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his posture. "I know I messed up, but I love you, y/n. Please, I can't lose you." He begged.

"Love?" I scoffed, shaking my head. "Are you hearing yourself!? Just stop, Nicholas, stop bullshiting me, If you loved me, you wouldn't have betrayed me like that. You can't just expect me to forgive and forget."

The argument intensified, our voices rising with each exchanged word. The pain and betrayal were too fresh, too deep for me to simply move past. Nicholas's attempts to reconcile only seemed to make things worse, as the reality of his actions continued to drive a wedge between us.

In the end, the conversation left us both emotionally drained, with Nicholas realizing that some mistakes couldn't be easily undone, and I was struggling to protect my heart from further hurt.

[mental69er]

i think what i really need in life is a jealous victoria smut and i just need her to dom me badly i just need to be taken by her

content: 18+, desk sex, jealous and possesive victoria, top victoria, slight choking (not even but tagging it just in case), fem reader

setting: you've been working for Victoria and dating her in secret

"What do you think you're doing?" Victoria demanded as she shut the door on you. The room was dark, the street lamp from outside struggling to let its light reach the inside. The sounds of the party outside were muffled, your festive mood muting too at the harsh tone Victoria used.

She took a step deeper into the room and you backed up, your back hitting the desk. The red solo cup filled with holiday punch crinkled in your nervous grip.

You had started working for Victoria six months ago, inspired by her hard working ethic and her advocacy. That starry eyed adoration soon turned to more when you got the position on her campaign and got to work under her. Long work hours together fostered romantic feelings that turned into a secret relationship.

Given the nature of her work, it would be bad press if your relationship got out since she was your superior. Had you done something at the party, slipped up in some way, and made it obvious that the two of you were entangled?

"I-I'm sorry," you told her. "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

Victoria stopped a few inches from you. She had decided to go with a deep plum power suit today, complete with a shirt that hung a little too low and had inspired you to look down several times when you had thought she wasn't looking.

Her perfume, that rich and heady scent that made you think of powerful people, surrounded you and you cursed the drinks you had drunk already. It made you want to put your hands all over her.

In fact, it was why you kept your distance tonight. That way you wouldn't kiss her or flirt with her out in the open.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice you getting chummy with Lorie from Management?" she asked, tipping her head to the side, wearing that thin smile that meant she had little patience.

"I-uh," you had expected something else entirely. "I wasn't?" It came out as a question, and the uncertainty of it only seemed to make her more upset.

"You were," she said, plucking the drink from your hand and letting it slip into the trash can right by the desk. "I think that's enough for tonight. Maybe you should go home."

"Excuse me?" you couldn't help the indignation in your tone. "You don't get to decide that for me. And I was only chatting with her." Your heart pounds in your chest as realization comes to you. "Are you jealous?"

She leaned in at this, placing her hands on the edge of the desk. Mouth close, her dark eyes boring into you. "Who does she think she is, talking to you. Putting her hands on your shoulder."

"I wasn't flirting with her," you told her.

"But she was flirting with you." She hummed. "I don't like that."

You couldn't help it. You scoffed. "She doesn't know we're dating. And since we can't tell her, I'll just avoid her for the rest of the night. But I am not leaving. And, I will be drinking." You would not back down, because you would not be told what to do in a relationship.

You tried to indicate to Victoria to lean off of you, to let you pass, but she wouldn't let you. Instead, a small smirk began to wriggle it's way up her lips, that damned cocky look you loved so much breaking onto her face.

"I think after I'm done with you, you might need to go home," she whispered into your ear, breath hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "I intend to leave a mess."

You gasped involuntarily as you felt her hands grab you by the hips and tug you on top of the desk. "Victoria! We're at a party."

She ignored that, letting her hands run down your thighs. You could already feel yourself giving in, body turning to putty and she was barely touching you.

"Did you know this is her desk?" she smirked, voice low and thick as she stepped close enough to you that your knees were touching her.

A hot flush spread down from your chest to your thighs. "Victoria, seriously. She wouldn't have flirted with me if she had known you and I were dating."

"I don't care," she said, tone hard. It was as if a switch had been flipped inside her, seeing you with another woman almost draped over you. You hadn't even thought Lorie was hitting on you, simply been overly affectionate because she was a bit tipsy.

You hadn't known Victoria could even get jealous over someone like you. The idea of it, despite how risky it was to do anything during the company party, made you ache between your legs.

"Still, it's risky, with your campaign. The door's not even locked-"

"I don't care," she emphasized, nails digging into the flesh on your thighs. Oh, she was more upset about this than you thought. Fuck, why did the idea of that turn you on?

She kissed you without warning, hard, faces mashing together. You kissed her back just as hard, wrapping your legs around her hips to draw her in as her hand came up to cup your face, other hand on your neck lightly squeezing down. She didn't let up with the kiss, pressing in for another one, and then another, heads tilting to the side, tongue probing inside your mouth, hand on neck guiding you to stay where she wanted you, keeping control over the kiss.

You could feel her lipstick smearing all over your face with how messily she was kissing you. "I wish I could show them that you're mine," she mumured, breaking the kiss to mouth at your neck, no doubt spreading more lipstick that you would have to regretfully remove. "You'll have to show me how your mine, instead." She pushed you down lightly til you laid flat on the desk top. She tapped your hips and you released your leg lock on her.

"Go on, darling," she said. "Show me what's mine."

Blushing hard at her words, you shimmied out of your pants, throwing them aside, before slowly sliding your underwear off and letting it drop to the floor. The wood was cool on your overheating skin and sent small goosebumps prickling your skin.

You spread your thighs for her, fingers teasing apart your folds. You were certain it was too dark to see everything, but you knew for certain she could hear how wet you were.

"Tell me she can't have this," Victoria insisted as you could hear her swallow thickly. She placed her warm hands on your thighs and excitement mounted inside your stomach at how close she was.

You'd never seen Victoria jealous, never thought she ever could be, but seeing how much she needed you to be hers was doing things to you. Was it bad to say you wanted to see her more like this?

Deviously, you murmured, "maybe if you fuck me hard enough, I'll remember that this isn't hers."

That had the intended effect you wanted. "You're going to regret saying that. Turn around. I want you bent over that desk." The tight anger in her voice only made more wetness pool between your thighs. You quickly turned around. "You might want to hold on, because you'll need it," was her whispered warning into your ear as she poured herself over your back.

You just managed to grab onto the other end of the desk when she thrust two fingers deep inside you. You let out a surprised cry at the roughness of the motion, but she didn't ease the pace. Each thrust felt like it had the full force of her body behind it and you placed your mouth against the desk to try and stifle your cries.

She pressed kisses to your ear, muttering words. "You're mine, do you understand me? I will not share you. I don't even want other people looking at you."

You nodded your head, though you weren't sure if she wanted you to answer, busy as you were trying to keep quiet. The weight of her on top of you kept you pinned to the desk and you were desperate to raise your hips up to chase her fingers as they slid in and out of you, wet squelching noises filling in the room.

The party had long left your mind and you could only think of Victoria on you. Her thumb brushed against your sensitive clit and you jolted with pleasure. It wouldn't be long til you came.

"Your orgasm's are also mine," she reminded you, biting gently on the shell of your ear, slowing her thrusts. You let out a frustrated groan. "Understood?"

"Uh huh," you breathed out, wanting to come already.

She slipped her fingers out. "I said, do you understand."

"Yes!" you hissed out, squeezing your eyes shut with desperate want. Victoria slipped her fingers back in and went even harder than before. The pen holder on the desk fell over, spilling pens onto the floor, the stacked papers fell over with a light thud. You were glad nothing else was on this desk, otherwise you'd make an even bigger mess.

"You come, only when I tell you to come."

"Yes!" you hissed out, choking on the sounds of pleasure that wanted to erupt in full volume from your throat.

"Good," she said. She straddled the back of your thigh and began to roll her hips against you, free hand gripping the desk as well. It started to creak and groan with the combined effort of both of your motions.

You could feel yourself begin to grow close. "I want you to come with me," she ordered, fingers slowing as she rolled her hips into you with increased fervor, voice taking on a breathless quality.

You nodded your head dutifully, intending to hold out for her even as your pussy spasmed greedily on her fingers. She rode your leg, and you could feel her heat bleeding through her fabric. "Close," she muttered and rolled her thumb against your clit making you cry out.

"Come for me," she said, and with one more flick to your clit, you were coming, Victoria's hips stuttering to a stop. The two of you took a moment to recover and when she pulled you off the desk, one of the legs snapped and it slumped over with a loud crash.

You froze, worried that someone would come in and discover you if they hadn't already. But the noise from the party outside had increased. It seemed someone had turned on music. You let out a relieved breath.

"Did we, did we actually break her desk?" you muttered out in horror. How had that happened? You plucked your underwear and pants off of the floor and hastily tugged them on.

"Shitty quality desk," Victoria shrugged it off. "I'll order her a new one tomorrow." She paused. "Maybe."

You huffed. "You cannot still be mad at her."

Victoria said nothing, merely came up to wipe her smeared lipstick off of your mouth with her thumb. She smirked at the sight of you. "I think you're going to need to go home. Can't have you looking freshly fucked."

It was your turn to smirk now. "I think that you might have to as well," you said, hand sliding down to her pants and undoing the button there as you got to your knees in front of her.

[janaelalfysblunt]

risk - paige bueckers

warnings: angsty-ish, homophobic parents (i didn't let them talk), happy ending

word count: 1694

notes: this was the most voted, so this will be the first one i publish the next one will be the ayanna one dedicated to @mrsarnold and @tndaqlifwy ❣

you can just talk, and I'll stare at your mouth it could be bad, but I wanna find out

you can only stare at her as she sits across from you, words shrieking softly past her lips. you watch how her mouth moves, wondering if she would pull back if she knew what you were thinking. you know it's dangerous. but in this quiet room with its low light, you can almost fool yourself. for a brief moment, you allow yourself to picture what it would be like to get closer, to lean in, and determine whether the fall is worth the risk.

It could ruin everything. or it could be the only thing that finally feels real.

and I feel like I could die 'cause you're not here and it don't feel right

It's too quiet in the room, the kind of silence that wraps you like a thick blanket and makes you feel more awake by every passing second. you've tried everything to distract your attention, including opening the window to let in the cool night air, reading the same page of a book five times, and scrolling through your phone until the screen blurred. all of this is done in the hopes that it will lessen the pain of missing her. missing paige. but it's useless. she isn't here, and her absence sticks to you like a lingering darkness.

It's an odd, difficult loneliness that seems to soak deeply into your bones. her laugh, the way her hand felt in yours during that one, untoward time, the silent looks you exchanged when no one was looking—all of these small reminders of her cling to your mind, and then all of a sudden she's both everywhere and nowhere. you try to picture her right next to you, close enough to reach out and calm the unease that has been annoying you ever since she left, by shutting your eyes.

it hurts, but it's for the better. we can't be together. we are both girls.

thinking I'm right when I'm probably wrong holding my breath like I met someone knowing damn well that I haven't been touched by you

"come over."

the message is a plain appeal that ought to stir up up excitement, interest, or any other emotion as it appears on your screen. you might have flirted a little, joked a little, and met him at a party. by all meanings, this should be simple because he is kind. you should want to say yes and experience the thrill of potential. but all you're doing is staring. waiting for an unfulfilled spark.

since he isn't her. he isn't your paige.

you tell yourself that comparing everyone to her is useless and would only lead to regret. yet, it feels strange and fake to consider being with someone else; it's like trying to put on someone else's skin. his blunt and explicit words appear on the screen, yet they have no meaning.

I'm gonna bend 'til I break and you'll be my favorite mistake I wish you could hold me here, shakin'

when your parents call, it's not actually to check on you. you tries to balance who you are, with who they want you to be, and they don't care about the sadness in your voice. they only need affirmation that you're "doing the right thing" and staying on the "right path."

but how do you leave someone who seems to be a part of you already? you must make a decision that could end your life since you are torn between a love that you are too scared to give up even if it's not possible and the stress of you family's expectations. because you're not sure if you could ever let go, let paige go.

she loved you. but does she still? it was years ago and she told you she would wait decades for you.

why aren't you here in my bedroom? hopelessly boring without you too soon to tell you "I love you"

sitting in your bedroom recalling everything.

flashback

it was after the first day of freshmen year. you and paige were on the phone, talking about everything. one of the things you loved about her, is that conversations could flow easily with her. if the topic is about something she doesn't know a lot about but you like it, she willings to learn stuff about it so you can talk for hours.

"i didn't knew you liked that movie." you said, suprised after your girlfriend brought it up.

"yeah. my sister made me watch it over the summer. it was alright." the blonde girl shrugged nonchalantly.

"paige. can we talk about something?" i asked in all seriousness now.

on the other side of the line, paige sat up in her bed, listening carefully. "of course, what's up?"

"i love you and i really hope you know that but..." i sighed, taking a moment. "my parents would never accept us together and you mean the world to me this is probably not a good topic to talk about over the phone but i think we need to take a break."

the silence that followed felt like it stretched on forever. you could hear paige’s breathing on the other end of the line, steady but tight.

“what?” she finally whispered, her voice barely audible, a crack in her usual steady tone. “are… are you serious?”

you closed your eyes, swallowing back the tears that threatened to spill over. this was the last thing you wanted to say, the last thing you wanted to feel, but here you were, saying it anyway. “I don’t know what else to do, paige. my parents don’t get it. they never would. they’d look at me like I’d failed them. and they keep calling, asking about you… it’s like they already know. they’ve been asking me questions, and I can’t, I just can’t lie to them anymore.”

you could hear paige take a shaky breath on the other end. “so… you’re just going to walk away?” she asked, her voice barely holding steady. “just like that?”

your chest ached. “it’s not like that. you know it’s not. this isn’t what I want. I just don’t see how I can have both you and my family. and I can’t ask you to live in secret, hiding from everyone, like some part of my life I’m ashamed of. you deserve more than that.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the words settling in. finally, paige broke the silence, her voice thick with tears. “but you’re also my best friend. you’re-” She stopped, as if she couldn’t bring herself to finish. “what am I supposed to do without you?”

her words shattered something inside you, and you nearly took it all back right then, nearly told her that none of this mattered, that you’d find a way. but deep down, you knew that until you could be honest with everyone else in your life, you couldn’t be fully honest with her. and that wasn’t fair—to either of you.

“I don’t know, paige,” you whispered, barely able to hear yourself. “I wish I did.”

you could hear her sniffle softly. “I love you, too, you know,” she said, her voice breaking. “and if this is what you need… then, okay. I just I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

“me too,” you whispered, feeling like the words were tearing you apart.

after a few more seconds of silence, you heard the faint click as she hung up, leaving you alone with nothing but the hum of the empty line, and the feeling that you’d just lost the best part of yourself.

...

looking at it now, you knew what is the right thing. if your parents won't accept you for who you really are, they are not family. parents should never make her kids feel like they don't belong somewehere as if love could be conditional based on who are you keeping in your heart. paige left a few seconds ago. you're gonna follow her.

you're the risk, I'm gonna take it

right when you stepped out of the apartment door, the rain started pouring and you could see the tall blonde girl who you won't give up on. you ran. you're gonna finally get your girl back.

"paige!" you yelled, making her turn around in surprise as you caught up to her. "i'm so sorry for everything i should've found a way out of all that i shouldn't have left you for a family that isn't even a family. your arms felt more like home than my house ever did. and i'm so mad i let this drag on for too long i love you, i'm sorry."

she didn't answer. her blonde hair looked dark from the water. a few strands of hair were stuck to her forehead. she smiled. grapped your face, pulling you closer to her, attaching her lips to yours. "i miss you, i'm sorry."

you pulled away, confusion painted over your face. "what are you sorry for?" sou asked, she didn't had anything to be sorry about.

"gracie abrams has a song titled that and i know you like her so..." she's incredible. you laughed, pulling her into you, feeling the warmth of her body.

paige laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard, breaking through the rain like sunlight. “I want you to know that I get it,” she said, brushing the damp hair away from her face. “I know we’ve both messed up, but I’m still here. I still want this. I still want us.”

the relief that washed over you was almost overwhelming. “you have no idea how much that means to me,” you said, your voice breaking with emotion. “I thought I lost you for good.”

“no way,” she replied, her smile unwavering. “I’m not going anywhere. not this time.”

you hugged for a minute, then pulling away, and paige asked: "wanna get crumbl cookies?"

"yeah." you let out another chuckle, making your way to her car.

she's a risk that you're willing to take in any lifetime

[hxney-lemcn]

Late Night Chaos — Daisuke x gn! reader

summery: who knew stealing a hoodie would lead you to an existential crisis.

tw: none.

a/n: ik everyone loves the idea of Daisuke realizing his feelings second...but what if we switched that around? 👀

wc: 1.1k

Master List

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six

In your defense, he had left it out in the open unattended. You had been running small errands for Anya and you found yourself grumbling about it being particularly chilly that day. Luck seemed to be on your side, as on your way back to the med bay, you noticed a clothing item innocently having been tossed on the couch. It was clearly Daisuke’s, the vibrant block patterned hoodie couldn’t have been anyone else's. Deciding it was his fault for leaving it out in the open in the first place, you threw it on. 

Pausing her writing to acknowledge your presence, Anya’s eyes fell onto the new article of clothing you wore. Diverting her eyes, she tried her hardest to push down the smile that was threatening to take over her face. Daisuke always wore that hoodie in his free time, she recalled him wearing it multiple times during game night. She would always recall her enemies attire after being beaten at uno.

“...and I gave Captain the note,” You listed off, counting on your fingers as you went. 

“Thank you,” Anya replied, speaking your name softly. “And a pit stop to see Daisuke?” She couldn’t help herself, lightly teasing you.

Glancing down at the comfy hoodie you shook your head, “Nah, he just left this lying out and I took the opportunity. Finders keepers and all that.” 

Letting out a small chuckle, she smiled warmly at you, “Don’t let him catch you saying that.”

“Meh,” You shrugged. “He probably won’t even notice it’s missing. So, is there anything else you need me to do?”

“No,” Anya shook her head. “That’s all for now.”

…

You had forgotten you were wearing the hoodie until dinner happened. The night's meal was stew and you found yourself excited since you always loved a good soup. Not to mention with how cheap Pony Express was, it was hard to mess up soup. As everyone was dished out a portion, it was as calm as it could be until you heard someone splutter. Across from you sat Daisuke who was currently coughing loudly, a mix of broth and spit falling in front of you. You gave him a disgusted look, Swansea shaking his head and Anya handing you some napkins. Gosh, now you’re cleaning up other people's messes, you thought internally shaking your head. 

“Are you okay?” Anya asked, eyes looking a bit worried but also a tad amused.  “Y-yeah,” Daisuke stuttered slightly, eyes looking at anything but you. “Just went down the wrong pipe.”

“Kid can’t even eat properly,” Swansea muttered, causing you to snicker. 

“Probably not sweet enough,” You teased, eyes glinting with a knowing look. Once again, Daisuke felt himself coughing, face warming in a mix of fluster and embarrassment. Gosh, he knew you meant the whole sweetener packet fiasco, but his eyes betrayed his true thoughts as they fell onto your lips that were quirked up in an amused grin. 

He wasn’t stupid, he knew what the fluttery feeling in his heart was. They way he looked forward to your every interaction, daydreaming about you before falling asleep. That wasn’t normal, he never daydreamed about kissing his friends before. It didn’t help that you both grew exponentially closer, inside jokes becoming the norm and being by the other’s side nearly 24/7. Your teasing grin and side bumps made his nerves go alight, wishing you would do more than just brief touches.

He was crushing, and hard. He felt like he was in highschool all over again. Damn, was that the last time he had a crush?

“W-where’d you find my hoodie?” Daisuke couldn’t help but ask, struggling to both look away and make eye contact at the same time.  “You’re hoodie?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “It was just laying on the couch, for all I knew it was Anya’s.” You shrugged your shoulders ‘innocently’, knowing damn well that was a lie. 

Pouting, he muttered, “I really like that hoodie…”

“Damn,” You sighed, pretending to be upset. “I was kinda hoping to keep it. It’s so comfy.”

He crumbled instantly, “Okay.”

You blinked, genuinely surprised. You were just teasing him, you were fully planning on giving it back after dinner.

“What?” You asked, stupefied. 

“You can have it if you like it so much,” Daisuke clarified, acting unusually bashful. “It looks better on you anyways.”

It felt like your breath got knocked out of your lungs, heart picking up in speed as you tried to comprehend what just happened. You looked down to your bowl, your cheeks feeling weirdly warm, pulling the sleeves over your hands. The annoyed/knowing looks your crewmates sent your way wasn’t helping. You finally started to eat, your food having cooled during your little banter. One by one, the crew started to leave, chatting to each other here and there, until it was only you and Daisuke left at the table. Glancing up, you felt uncomfortably warm when your eyes made contact with Daisuke’s. Was he watching you the entire time? Why did your stomach feel like it was tying itself into knots? Why did you kind of like this weird feeling that made you all wobbly and shy? 

“What?” You asked, oddly defensive. This weird, gross, nice feeling was freaking you out and it showed in the edge of your voice. 

“S-sorry,” He muttered sheepishly, scratching his cheek. “Didn’t mean to stare. Just spacing out.”

“Hmm,” You hummed, eyeing him for a second before standing up to wash your bowl. “Y’know I was joking about keeping your hoodie, right?” You nearly jumped out of your skin when he appeared in your peripheral, tilting his head at your question.

Shrugging, he replied, “It’s cool. I was serious about what I said before. You can have it.”

“Isn’t this your favorite one?” You asked in disbelief. Drying your hands and turning to fully face him. 

“I mean, if you don’t want it I can take it back,” Daisuke muttered, sounding a bit disappointed. Why would he be disappointed in getting his favorite hoodie back? You didn’t want to dissect that thought too thoroughly, feeling those weird feelings curl inside of you. 

“Well…if you're offering,” You mumbled back, eyes straying from him. “No take backsies.”

Daisuke lit up, making you want to squeeze the living daylight out of him. Why was he so cute?! Who gave him the right? 

You found it hard to sleep again that night. Though, instead of thinking about your work, being on a floating ship through space, or missing your home world, you found yourself thinking about Daisuke. His stupid boyish smile, how he always managed to find a way to make you laugh, how he never failed to bring you out of your darkness like the shining ray of light he was. There was no way…you couldn’t…did you actually…?

You had a crush on Daisuke.

[mattsbiggestslut]

‘ YOU BELONG TO ME ’

sum. when your ex boyfriend gets jealous of his brother touching you and says you belong to me.

warnings. none.

wc. idk.

a/n. Probably short, i’ll add more.

@mattsbiggestslut

Me and Chris broke up years ago. He was toxic as hell, he wouldn’t leave me alone, he made me cry, he hit me, there would be bruises all over my body, scars, hell, even cut marks, he was abusive and childish.

Me and his brothers, Matt and Nick Sturniolo were still friends, it was just me and Chris who didn’t like each other. My friends told me before that Chris was always a bitch, my friend Ana told me that Chris was an asshole. I should’ve believed her before I dated him.

Chris, now that we broke up, has been getting more mature, now that he’s not a teenager anymore. He’s getting more muscular, growing a beard— a stubble, and focusing on himself. “He’s changing now,” I said to my friends as they looked at me in shock well— Ana looked at me in shock while the rest of my friends nodded. Until my friend, Naomi piped up. “What? Ya like him again?” She raised her eyebrow. Ana interrupted me before I even got to speak.

“Don’t tell me you do! He’s not what you think!” Ana said as she shook me by my shoulders. “He’s a bitch, remember?” She added. “He probably changed, ana, you don’t know that..” I mumble as I glance away. “I’m seeing him and his brothers tonight. So I'll see if he changes, okay?” I added as I thought about this damn boy named Christopher Sturniolo. Over and over in my head. ‘He’s cute. But I'm not gonna fall for him again.’ I thought as I drove to my house before I had to meet the triplets.

I got to my house as I put my red dress on and my red heels on. I did my makeup as I was on the phone with nick. Chris in the background in a suit and tie, his hair wet, and the suit in the same color as my dress. “Ah. You two are matching.” Nick said excitedly as he gave the phone to Chris. Nick knew Chris still liked me. But he never got the chance to ask me if I still liked him.

“Uhh— hey,” Chris said, as he looked at the camera. “Hey,” I said as I looked at the camera at his blue eyes, they looked like the ocean, pretty and blue. “Uh— look, I'm sorry about what happened when we were younger.” Chris said as he placed the phone down and ran his fingers through his wet hair. “It’s okay, I forgive you. Everybody changes, right?” I said as his eyes softened and he had a little pout on his face. This was the first time I saw him vulnerable like that. It was adorable. “Right.” He mumbled, smiling a bit. “So.. you’re coming soon?” He said, trying to change the subject and he placed his hand on his tie and fixed it. “Yeah, I'll be there, five minutes or so.” I say as I smile. We say our goodbyes and we hang up.

The whole time I’m driving to their house I think about what Chris said, how his eyes soften and that cute little pout on his face, he’s hot, but sometimes adorable. I drove to their house and knocked on the door. Chris opened the door, with a little smile on his face. “ ‘Thought you said five minutes?” He joked and I walked inside, chuckling. “Came earlier than i thought.” I teased as i turned to him. He laughed a little bit, I could see his muscles in his arms and his stubble on his chin, ‘he grew up that’s for sure,’ I said in my head. Chris smiled and closed the door behind me as I walked upstairs, my heels making a ‘click’ sound every time I walked.

“Hey, you look pretty today.” Matt said as he got up and took my hand, Nick glanced at Chris as Chris looked jealous. Really jealous. “She belongs to me.” Chris said with a scoff as he put on a fake smile and pulled me away, his hands on my waist as he glared at Matt, Matt smirked. “Someone’s jealous.” Matt teased, as put his hands on his hips. “I’ll shove my foot up your ass matt, fuck off.” He replied, before looking at me. Damn. Maybe I do belong to him.

[redsrooftopprincess]

hey so how do you think Mikey’s brothers would deal with him being the first to get a girlfriend and she’s a human one at that. Cuz they clearly never thought any of them would find someone and it’s their baby brother who did the miracle of finding someone? 😂

Hi there! I'm not sure if this is exactly what you're looking for, but you're here so I assume you want my Mikey. Hope this is okay. 😅

Turned Tables

Michaelangelo x gn!Reader

Warnings: Queerphobia

4am and it's last call in The Village.

He's moving swiftly over rooftops, his usual route, a master of speed and momentum, moving through the city like water. He loves it. The rush. The flow. Moving around obstacles like they mean nothing. He is a turtle after all. Water is kind of his jam.

But not tonight. Tonight the heartbeat pounding in his ears has nothing to do with the thrill of movement. Tonight he's wearing his hoodie with the hood up. Tonight they're with him. And if he's spotted, there will be problems.

There have been whispers about suspicious gang movement in the area, and Leo wants to make sure that certain alliances aren't being made. They usually don't come out here. They have designated areas of the city to cover every night. It's smarter to stick to the same areas so that anything out of place will be more noticable. Which means tonight his bros were on his turf, and that scared the shit out of him.

He follows his brothers over storage sheds and HVAC units, keeping an eye out for anything out of place, occasionally glancing down into the streets below, knowing you'll be heading home after the party. Even if he can't say "hi" tonight, it's worth it just to look at you, even if just for a second. You're so damn pretty.

"Hey! Back off, incel!" the shout comes from the street below and he freezes. His brothers manage to get three buildings away before they notice he's missing.

By the time they make it back to the rooftop where he left them behind, he's already put himself, openly, between a group of four drunk bros, and several sparkly queers.

You and your crew had been on your way home from a party. Ironically enough, you'd just been missing your bright-eyed boyfriend, but understood when he said his brother needed the whole team tonight. You knew the score when this whole thing started. Superheroes gotta superhero.

And damn if he doesn't look good doing it.

Hood still up he glares at them, a low growl backing his words, "Wrong neighborhood, my dudes." Mike says evenly.

The look on the drunk bros faces was enough to know they were thinking maybe they'd had too much.

"Fuck it. Not worth it anyway. Fucking queers."

The dude-bros stumble off and Mike turns to face his very relieved friends. "You guys okay?" He says.

"Yes, thank you, papí," says a Drag Queen in red sequins, she walks up and gives him a kiss, leaving red glitter lipstick on his cheek.

"You know I got you, mamí," Mike says brightly, with a wink, making no effort to wipe the lipstick away. At this point they're most likely watching everything from the rooftop, so it didn't matter anymore.

"We missed you at the party," you say with a smile.

His gaze falls on you and his showman smile morphs into something softer. "Hey, Angel."

You look back at your friends.

"Let me guess," says a man wearing gold shorts and matching cuffs/collar, "you'll catch up?"

You grin and they sigh dramatically, teasing you, as they hug Mike goodbye, thanking him and insisting he show up at the next party.

You step forward and grab his mask tails, pulling him down into a kiss. Usually it's enough to melt the tension away. Not tonight. You pull back and look at him curiously before your gaze moves past him and you see black shadows cut out against the light polluted sky. You meet his eyes again and you can see the underlying panic.

"They were gonna to find out eventually," you say, quietly.

He presses his forehead to yours, "I know. I just..." He sighs.

"I know..." You say, touching his face gently. He'd told you about his brothers, and you understand their need for secrecy, you all do. He'd told you if they ever found out, there was a chance they would refuse to let him see you. Keep him from you completely. But there is no way in hell you're letting him go. You'll fight his big bad brothers yourself if you have to. "Go talk to them. Maybe it'll help to know there are people who aren't afraid." You twist the mask's tail around your fingers and tug, pulling him out of his own head, "Do you want me to come with?"

He shakes his head, "I gotta do this alone. Explain some things. But I think you meeting them at this point is unavoidable." he smirks down at you. You've been asking to meet his family. You haven't said anything, but all the sneaking around is starting to get to you.

He's quiet for a few moments, and shifts his weight, stalling. He must be really scared. "Now or never, Sunshine," you say, tugging on his mask tail again. He gives you a nervous smile and kisses you again, sweetly, before walking across the street backwards, just to look at you a little longer.

When he makes it to the alley, he looks at the ladder to the fire escape and sighs. There's a chance this could go well... right?

When he reaches the roof, they're all standing there, staring at him. Mike swallows. "Hey... So yeah, couple things..." He hauls himself over the edge of the building and stands to look up at his eldest brother, arms crossed, waiting. "So... that's Y/N," he says, as if reciting a list, "and those are my friends..." he gestures a bit further, "and -"

"Parties?" Leo's even voice cuts through the air as sharply as the blades on his back.

Mike glances at Donnie and Raph who look at him with a full spectrum of emotion, from betrayal to hope.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Just... A few years."

"Years!?" If Leo had eyebrows, they would have disappeared into his hair... if he also had hair.

"Leo -" Mike tries.

"Years. Parties. For years."

"Leo, if you'd just -"

"People know about us, Mikey. A lot of people. Don't you think that's kind of a big deal? You're putting everyone in danger here. If just one person -"

"Leo they're queer." Mike interrupts solidly. That shut him up. Leo stares at his brother, taken entirely off guard. "If anyone is used to having to hide their and everyone else's identities for fear of literal murder it's them. We protect our people."

"... We?" Raph asks after a moment.

Mikey gives him a look, "I'm a turtle attracted to humans, what would you call it?"

That shut all of them up, and Mike gives them a moment for that paradigm shift.

"Anyway, yeah, I've been doing a quick run through The Village before coming home every night, just to keep an eye on things."

"That's why you've been coming home late? I thought you were just smoking out somewhere." Raph says.

"That's because that's what I wanted you to think," Mike replies. Duh.

"And your friend? How long has that been going on?"

"We're more than friends," Mike shoots back immediately, a fire in his eyes as they meet his eldest brother's. They could come for him, he was used to it. Not you. His brothers eyes widen and they look at each other before landing back on him, "and we've been together for six months, two weeks, and five days," he checks his watch, "Six days. You want the hours, minutes, and seconds or are we done?" He says.

He pushes past Leo, and makes it almost to the edge of the rooftop before hears Donnie speak softly behind him. "... why would you keep this from us?"

Mike sighs, coming to a stop, "Because... I don't know..." He turns around, "I guess I was afraid you'd try and take it away," He looks at Leo almost defiantly. Raph smirks, kinda proud. "Or maybe... that they'd like you more than me." He looks down at you with a sigh, having rejoined your friends. You're laughing. It's his favorite sound in the universe.

Turning around, you catch him watching over you like a guardian angel turtle. You proceed to blow several kisses his way using each hand, before making a heart with them and spinning back around. The last six months have been the best of your life.

Mike can't help but smile, his brothers look on in awe as Michaelangelo's more-than-friend skips on down the sidewalk.

"Look," Mike says, his eyes returning to his brothers, "I'm safe. You're safe. They're safe." He assures, gesturing in each direction in turn, "We're a pretty tight group, and there's a protocol," he looks at Leo pointedly again, "that we follow with new people before anyone even learns I exist. I've saved the sequined ass of just about everybody in this neighborhood. They know me here. We're safe here... ish, obviously."

They're all speechless.

"I don't like this, Mikey." Leo says after a moment.

"You don't have to like it, you just have to accept it," Mike says without any question in his voice.

Leo sighs rubbing his forehead, "Well, at this point I suppose it's too late for damage control." He looks back at Mike, proud and resolute. This Michaelangelo has only made a handful of appearances in their lives, but Leo knew what it meant. He wasn't backing down. This decision had been carefully thought out and every angle considered before it was made. Mikey may play the fool, but he's far from it. A gifted strategist and the best of them at thinking on his feet, if he says it's safe, it is.

Leo sighs again, "Okay," he says, and Mikey can finally breathe again, "but we all need to be in on these protocols, and Don should look over security."

.....

He's just gotten back from his nightly run, and came home smelling like strawberry daiquiris and you... He may have stopped for a minute.

He's just stripping off his gear to hit the shower when Raph appears in his doorway, knocking softly. "Uh hey," he starts, uncomfortable, "You got a sec?"

Mikey tosses one of his hand wraps into the basket in the corner and starts unraveling the other one, a small burst of glitter explodes into the air with the first layer of cloth. Mike snorts and swats it out of the air. "Sure, bro. Sup?"

"I just..." He struggles, looking at the floor, trying to find the words. He's embarrassed he even wants to ask, but he has to know. There's a chance now... A real chance at meeting real people... maybe... maybe even a chance at... "What's it like?" He asks, looking up at Mikey.

"Gonna have to be a bit more specific," his other hand wrap joins the first.

"Yeah. No. Stupid. Sorry," he laughs nervously, shaking his head and looking at the floor. His hands are actually shaking, he clenches them into fists.

"You okay, bro?" Mike asks, changing tone and pausing to look at his older brother, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he assures, "I, uh..." He sighs and takes a deep breath, psyching himself up. "What's it like... being with someone who isn't scared of you...? Who actually wants you there?" He can't even say the word. He feels stupid for needing to know this damn badly, but he needs to know that it's real. Possible.

A slow smile blooms on Mike's face, his biggest brother would the one to ask. When they played as kids, he's the one that used to ride off into the sunset with the girl. White (well, green) Knight was his default, and a lot of where the anger in him came from as a kid. He had no choice but to live his life watching the world get their happy ever afters, until he died, alone, at the end of a blade. Michaelangelo sees something in Raph's eyes he hasn't seen in a long time. It's faint, and swimming in doubt, but definitely there: Hope.

He takes a breath, crossing his arms over his chest, "Well... It's kinda like..." He pauses, thinking, "Do you remember that old rusted pipe we used to skate on when we were kids?"

"The one that almost killed us? Yeah."

Twelve years old and Donnie had just souped up Mike's board and Raph's skates with some "prototypes." They were supposed to stick to the tunnels near the lair to test them out, but the second they stepped out, Mike made a beeline for the pipe.

The prototypes worked well. Too well. The speed and weight were too much for the rusted metal and it crumbled beneath them, sending them careening down a series of pipes and tunnels with no idea where they were going to end up, or what state they'd be in when they got there.

They skated as best they could, trying to stay on their feet, or even their shells, but everything was moving too fast and there were too many twists and turns. They couldn't keep track of where they were or where they were going, at one point some unidentified substances were involved, and at times it felt as though they would break apart.

When they finally emerged, battered and bruised in an unfamiliar tunnel a little over a mile away, they just sat there for several long moments, stunned.

When they finally met each other's eyes... they lost it. Laughing hysterically with tears streaming down their faces, they could barely feel the sting of cuts or the ache of bruises.

It was terrifying and exhilarating, and at more than one point they thought they were for sure going to die. It had been the most incredible experience of their young lives. They promised only ever to do that once (it 100% should have killed them), but both of them remember, to this day, exactly where that pipe is, just in case they ever want another go.

"It's like that," Mike says, tossing his belt in the corner and walking past Raph to grab a shower.

...

The next evening, before patrol, he receives a visit from a rather concerned looking Donatello. He doesn't bother knocking, but walks into the bedroom and closes the door behind him.

Don spins around to look at him, and raises his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm concerned."

Michaelangelo looks up once he's finished pulling up his shorts. "Okay...?"

"Have you and Y/N had sex? Of any kind, I mean."

"Dude."

"I'm serious," and he meant it. He was wearing his serious face. "Any exchange of fluids beyond kissing?"

Mikey looks at him, Donnie is really, actually worried, and now so is he, "Yeah... why?"

"How often?"

"Dude."

"At least... tell me your wore protection."

"I'm not exactly worried about them getting pregnant, so no."

"Are you worried about them getting regular injections of your DNA?"

This made Mikey pause, why would he... Oh, Gods... He looks up at Donnie, eyes wide and terrified. "Shit, I didn't even think..." He sits down on his pillow pile, thoroughly rocked. His hands cover his face as the possibilities overwhelm him. Mike looks up at his brother with pleading eyes, "are they gonna be okay...? They're gonna be okay, right?"

"I don't know... but I'm going to need a few hair follicles for testing."

"Done," he says quickly, snatching a small baggie from his nightstand and shoving it in his pocket.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I really am a fucking idiot.

Michaelangelo throws on his gear as fast as he can, booking it out of the lair.

He's back in less that 45 minutes

The next few hours are spent with him panic pacing, while Donnie is running tests. Finally, he straightens from over the microscope, one last visual check to confirm what his readouts were saying, and Mike stops, waiting for whatever news comes next.

"Nothing, they're clean. No mutagen detected." Don turns to smile at his brother.

"Fuck, me..." He sighs heavily, breathing hard. The rush of relief makes Michaelangelo so dizzy he has to reach out and catch himself on the wall. Even so, this is definitely something the two of you need to talk about, just in case.

"I'll want to check in periodically, just to make sure it stays that way, but things should be safe enough for now." He pauses and looks uncomfortable for a moment. Emotions are tough for Donnie. They've never made much sense to him, especially when expressing them to others. He knows what they feel like inside his head, but he's never been entirely sure what to do with them. Like he was never given the manual. Even so, he knows that this is important. "Hey, so, um... the probability of something like this happening... one of us actually finding someone, is... Astronomical... Now it’s... slightly less so," he says, thoughtfully, with a soft smile, "so thanks for that."

.....

The eldest of his brothers finally shows up after almost four days. He stands in the open doorway, chagrined, and knocks on the frame.

"Hey, Mike." Leonardo says, taking a few steps into the room.

Michaelangelo looks up from what he's doing and stands, expecting another argument against all of this. He's ready.

"I'd like to apologize."

Okay, he wasn't ready for that.

"I was caught off-guard, and I reacted poorly," he says, "I was worried. I still am. This whole… thing scares the hell out of me. It means there are more pieces on the board, more people to keep safe."

Leo sighs, "It also means that maybe... there can be something more than… this. And I... I don't know if it's worth it yet, the risk, to us or them. I wish I did. This is new... territory for me. I'm used to understanding how things are supposed to work, at least when it comes to us, but this..."

"Hey," Mike says, interrupting Leo's word vomit. Leo tended to keep things pretty close to the vest, even among the five of them, so it didn't happen often, but big things. Important things. Emotional things, could send him spinning out until someone stops him, or he tornados himself into a panic attack.

Leo takes a deep breath, as Mike grins, "How 'bout you let me teach you a couple things, for once."

He smiles back at his youngest brother, chuckling nervously, "Thanks. I would actually really appreciate that." Leo steps further into the room now that things seem settled between them, and pulls a pillow from the pile to sit on, settling in. He dismissed his brothers explanations earlier, he owed it to him to listen now. "So... what are they like?'"

Michaelangelo spends a good amount of time telling him about you, his friends, and how this whole thing got started. By the end, Leo isn't exactly more comfortable about the situation, but he sees the potential, and despite himself, he's just a little excited.

.....

At this point he's pretty sure his brothers are cool with everything. Less cool in one particular case, but he's working on Leo. Michaelangelo's father, however, is an entirely different story.

Leo had told him that morning, after they'd gotten back, and for two days he remained in silent meditation. By the time he emerged on day three, Michaelangelo was afraid to even be in the same room as him.

He knows this is a big deal. He knows his dad has been meditating on his own feelings on the matter and the best way to approach them with his youngest, and this could either go really, really well, or blow up in his face, but if there's one thing he knows about the old rat... he can't be avoided. Not forever.

The fated knock comes on day five.

"Hey," Leo says, "dad wants to talk to you."

Mike takes a deep breath and heads down to his father's room.

"Have a seat, Michaelangelo," he says, gesturing to the empty cushion across from him. There is a low table before him with a chipped pot and two steaming cups of tea.

Mike walks into the room. He doesn't seem mad, but that doesn't mean anything. His dad is great at playing it cool. He sits across from Splinter, nervously.

His father asks for the whole story, and listens patiently as Mikey tells him everything. How saving a drag queen one night led to his being accepted and wanted by a whole group of people. Friends that have helped him in more ways than he can count. Definitely more ways than he could ever help them. And you. He tells his dad about you. How amazing you are, how kind and patient, and something he hasn't even told you yet: just how stupid in love with you he really is.

It takes hours.

When Mikey is finished, His father is quiet for a long time, processing everything. He'd received some of the story from Leonardo, and was fitting the new information into the appropriate places, while carefully considering the situation. Mike tries not to panic.

"I'm proud of you, Michaelangelo," he says, finally. Mike's head shoots up from staring into his tea cup to meet his father's eyes.

Okay, what?

"Not only have you done all things possible to ensure the care and safety of both your new friends and our family, but you had the courage to look for something beyond what we know to be safe. You had the courage to try. All that done on your own. And while next time," his father gives him a look, "something like this comes up, I would much rather you come to me first," he pauses to ensure the message sinks in, "I understand why you did not, and you have my deepest apologies for that." The old master bows his head, penitently, across the table.

A half-laugh escapes Mikey, tears of relief stinging his eyes. He was ready to fight for you. In fact, since this whole thing started he's basically been thinking about nothing but what the hell he's going to tell his dad. The last five nights, he's held you a little tighter, a little longer. Not to say goodbye, he'd walk away from them if he had to, if they made him choose. You're too important. But he didn't want to, and now he doesn't have to, and sweet relief pours, fizzing, through his veins

"Really?" Mike asks softly, it wasn't often he got rewarded for disobeying orders, especially when the reward was something this big. You. Holy shit they were letting him keep you. He wipes at his eyes as his father smiles, "I uh... thanks Dad." He says, unsure whether he's laughing or crying.

"I feel as though a new chapter of our lives is beginning, thanks to you," his smile crinkles at the corners of his eyes, "and I look forward to seeing where the tale will take us."

.....

The next morning, Leo, Don, and Raph are sitting around the kitchen table after patrol, when Mike storms in with a purpose.

He slaps a neon green paper down in the middle of the table for the three of them. It's a flyer for a party, happening at Mike's usual spot, tomorrow night.

They look at the flyer, and then each other, before their gazes turn to their father, standing in the doorway with a steaming cup of tea. Four adult turtles, nearly pushing 30, silently begging their dad for permission.

There is a subtle smile under his whiskers as he takes a sip of his tea, "Be back before sunrise," he says, and his smile widens as he sees his children light up with the promise of a new adventure.

They'll panic later, when the reality sets in that they are about to meet a large group of people and they have no idea what they're doing (Leo may already be screaming internally), but for now they're excited, and looking forward to tomorrow.

....

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins

[siolixz]

~Veils Of Crimson~

Chapter 4

Pairings: oz cobb x reader (Carmine Falcone's daughter)

<chapter 1> <chapter 2> <chapter 3>

Reader is a child of the circumstances she was raised in and Oz is still manipulative-I had to take a few breaks from writing this to walk around my house a lil bit-I think I have a pretty clear idea of where I wanna take this story going forward. You get to FUCK that old man! YES! Also, I am currently drawing Oz and 'reader' how I imagine her, can't wait to show yall. Next Chapter is gonna be up as soon as I see the new episode and I get virtually high with creativity.

I took my inspo from Driving Miss Falcone by (https://www.tumblr.com/genevievedarcygranger here on tumblr), check out the story if you can.

Enjoy, give feeback if u want ily xoxo.

Warnings: mature language, smut (oral sex, hair pulling, riding) violence, general horniness.

“WHERE ARE YOU”

You texted her back that you were out and perfectly fine-nothing to worry about, you apologized for not texting her in time as well. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. Ok, so you didn’t text Sofia that you were gonna leave, so what? She’s not your parent. You just unfortunately forgot, in all the excitement of seeing Oswald, you ran out of the door, got in the car and disappeared.

With your heart beating out of your chest, you pressed the handle of the main entrance to the mansion and upon being greeted with the quietness of the estate at this late hour- you went into the kitchen to grab yourself a snack from one of the fridges there.

Where are those damn Milka sweets you brought back from Europe? Did someone eat them? If they did you were gonna-

“Sneaking inside at this late hour? How scandalous.”

“Jesus, Sofia, you HAVE to stop doing that-”

“Where were you?” she said, while stepping closer, cocking her head.

Alright, this was older sister Sofia speaking

“I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t want to leave like that, It’s just that-I had some business I had to do, ok?” you said, hoping this lie would be sufficient

She didn’t look like she believed you, but she stopped asking any questions.

“While you were gone, I found a guy that's gonna help us with catching the rat in our family, once and for all.” -she didn't tell you anything about whatever she had planned

“A guy that’s gonna help us with finding the rat? That’s good. Great even.”

“Yeah, it is.” she looked down for a moment before taking a deep breath and coming closer “Listen, I think it would be best that you leave here a while, with everything that’s going on, I don’t want to lose you too-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said. Who does she think she is? Sending you away like this “this is my home.”

“Yes, yes i know” she closed her eyes deep in thought and opened them before continuing “you are one of the most important people in this family and I know how hard it is to be sent away-but this time, believe me, it’s for your own good. I only want the best for you.”

“No, no. I can help Sofia, I know I can. Why didn’t you tell me about the detective? I could’ve come with you-”

“Listen, just listen. I love you, I want the best for you-”

“You believe imma hold you back. That’s it. So you want to send me away, like dad.” you started nodding, mostly to yourself. That was it, she didn’t want you around, like she didn’t even miss you. “We have an army of guards at the mansion, I could remain here until everything is resolve-”

“Your place isn’t in a power struggle between us and the Maronis, you know that.” Honestly, fuck her. She barely talked to you since coming home, you weren’t the little girl she once knew.

“Alright- I guess, let me know if you need anything. Good night” You started backing up while talking to her, you didn’t even want to see her

“Good night.” she said.

Today was your brother’s memorial service and everyone important was here. There was food and good drinks, ready to be served for everyone to remember and toast towards your brother’s life. You really missed him and hoped he was in a better place.

You talked to Carla and Gia-her daughter. Gia told you looked beautiful, like a princess.

Like a princess of death and despair probably, wearing all black.

You saw everyone’s head turn towards the only person that could pull their attention away from you-Sofia, who was currently shoving a fist full of pasta in her mouth.

Classy-just like you remembered.

You took this moment of ignorance and disappeared into one of the rooms near one of the staircases that lead downstairs for a moment of quietness, you wanted to browse the internet a bit- see if anyone took a picture of you with him.

You talked to Oz last night when you arrived home- he told you to call him when you did, he said that you two will see each other today, that he was sorry you had to leave so early and that he really enjoyed your date, he didn’t have that much fun in a long time.

What a sweet man you thought, last night he was incredibly gentle and you could get used to going out with him, being by his side. His big arms, his charisma- everything about that man left you wondering when you two would be alone again, maybe in a more intimate setting- god it felt like you were 19 again, daydreaming about riding him in the backseat of your Rolls Royce, the way his hands would hold you down, guide you down his-

“-I told you to come to me, not go behind my BACK!”

Your uncle Luca, accompanied by Sofia and Castillo were coming down the steps-rudely disturbing your dream.

When your uncle saw you, he pointed at you and asked “You dragged your little sister into this too?”

You looked at Sofia, then at Luca “What?”

“No, she doesn’t know anything.”

“Good, at least one of you listens.” Luca continued. Fuck was his deal? Did he find out about Sofia’s plan to find the rat?

They continued to go down, still talking. You decided you didn’t want to stick around to find out what they were doing so you left and found that every single door was closing? Ok, what the literal fuck is happening.

“Search everyone for weapons.”

You followed the voice and found some of the guards in a line, unfortunately the man you desired was also between them.

“Oz? What happened?” you said as you ran up to him, the sound of your manolo blahnik heels creating sharp clicks against the expensive floor.

His gaze softened when he saw you and before he could say anything one of your guards, spoke up next to him “Someone iced a Maroni in the basement.” Oh, so that’s why Sofia was rushing downstairs with Luca, yikes.

“The fuck. Fuck you!” Viti said, as he was roughly handled by a guard. This fucking asshole, you hoped it was him secretly.

Luca and Sofia joined everyone in the hallway and your uncle called out your name and ordered you to step back-you had to unfortunately, obey.

“Fuck you looking at?” You and Oz were both staring but he directed his words towards him. “It was you, wasn’t it?” What was he doing? “You sent us there to get massacred, what did the Maronis give ya’, huh?” accusing a member of the family like this isn't wise, Oz.

“Watch your fucking mouth you gimp.”

“Fuck your mother ya dirty rat!” Jesus Christ Oz. Before you knew it they literally jumped at each other's throat, well more like Oz went to punch him in the face and stomach.

It took two men to pull the much larger man off of Viti- you were too shocked to say anything. Why was he acting like this? Did Viti’s comment rile him up this bad? Johnny is a well known shit talker.

“One of you is a fucking traitor-feeding information to the fucking enemy, I will not tolerate that.” Luca said. You looked at your sister, her face didn’t move towards you.

As the guards searched the suspects- Castillo, Sofia’s personal bodyguard, was found to be the rat.

Shithead, you thought.

“Miss Falcone I swear to God, that is not mine.” he pleaded, what a liar. You glanced at Oz and he gave you a wink- you couldn’t wait for him to be let go and kiss him again, the thought alone gave you butterflies.

“You were there with him that night-you killed him.” Sofia’s words were full of anger- hate clear as day on her face

“I didn’t-I would never.” What a shitty excuse of a human being, lying like this, your brother didn’t deserve to die at his hands.

“Give me your gun.” Sofia said towards the guard holding Castillo. Was she gonna shoot him here, in the house? You saw Oz look at you.

“Sofia, please listen to me-”

“GIVE ME YOUR GUN”

“I would NEVER do this to you-”

Luca turned to you and told you to turn around and you tried to as quick as possible-covering your ears and jumping when hearing the gunshot, did she shoot him?

This sort of stuff-this shit should never, ever happen inside the house. You knew your sister wasn’t right in the head after coming back from Arkham, but this, this was not right.

With your heartbeat in your ears, you left as quick as you could, you didn’t wanna turn around and see a dead body- one who only seconds ago was living and breathing, a human being, who you knew-who pleaded for his life- he deserved to die but not to get shot like this, especially inside the house.

You heard Oz call out your name, but you didn’t stop-you had to get outside, you didn’t even know if you would want to sleep inside the house tonight-God your knees felt weak.

Was your sister really that brutal? Was that necessary? You felt tears form in your eyes.

“Doll-” you heard the door open and as you made eye contact with Oz your tears couldn’t stop, you didn’t even know WHY you were crying.

You certainly weren’t crying for Castillo’s life, he was a rat, this is how people like him deserve to go- you should not cry-it was probably from the shock of it all.

“I-i'm sorry” you said-trying to turn away from Oz, you didn’t want him to think you were a crybaby or something-you were holding your tears back as well as you could, before he grabbed you in his arms and then you were REALLY crying.

“What just happened?” you sobbed, this was horrible-this sort of thing would’ve never in a million years happen if your dad was alive.

Between Oz shushing you-telling you that you are going to be ok and running his hands along your back up and down you eventually calmed down.

“Are you better? Hm?” he didn’t let go of you -you nodded.

“Ye-yeah I’m better, thank you. I’m sorry.”

“Ain’t nothing to apologize for doll, you shouldn’t have seen or heard that shit, that’s not how things go.” he looked genuinely apologetic, like he shot him.

“What happened to the guy downstairs?”

“Castillo stabbed him in the chest.” he said, while glancing down momentarily

“Good God, what has this house come to? What kind of monster does such a thing?”

“Yeah nasty business, horrible really.”

“I don’t know if I can step inside again tonight, I don’t wanna sleep in there.” you hugged your arms to your chest, between your sister telling you to fuck off and then Castillo being shot, you didn’t want to go back inside “I’ll get myself a room at the Belle Monico”

“Yeah well, If you don’t want to spend the money you can crash at my place, if you want of course-”

“Really? You’d have me?”

“Of course.” he said, matter-of-factly “anything you need-you know you can call me.”

“Oz, imma need you to take care of this shitshow inside-” Viti didn’t open the front door wide enough to see that you were there too

“Yeah-yeah I’ll take care of them.” Oz gave him a dismissive wave, Jonny just shut the door as quick as he opened it “This bald motherfucker is giving me orders too now.” He looked at you, hoping you would laugh at his comment-and you did.

“Keep that smile, ok?’ while also smiling- Oz climbed down the steps to the main entrance. He turned towards you and continued “By 8 o’clock I’ll be done with all this shit and you can drop by-I’ll text you my address. In the meantime, go away from the estate, go shopping or something, I know that it will make you feel better, ok?” you nodded from the top of the stairs “No MORE crying, you got that?” he pointed a finger at you.

“Alright.” you said “see ya.” The smile he left you with didn’t disappear and as you called your driver to come outside and grab your bag, you were already thinking about what underwear to wear tonight.

The excitement bubbling inside you was undeniable and as you listened to music in the backseat of the mercedes you were getting driven in it was hard not to let your mind wander, first time you were gonna be over at Oswald’s house, just you and him, all thoughts of the gruesome spectacle that happened today at your mansion disappeared-all replaced by the familiar excitement you always had before seeing him.

This time, however, it was going to be different. You were sure that if you didn’t get to feel him on top of you, you might actually pass away tomorrow.

As your driver pulled up into the Diamond District your stomach knotted with nerves, you were a few blocks down from Oz’s place-you tried to distract yourself from all the emotions and looked outside, you might’ve been in one of these shops in the past- even if they looked a bit shitty.

“I’m waiting for you, climb up the staircase when you get in, I’ll open the door.” he texted you

OK, you were really doing this- you scooted back in the driver’s seat and took a deep breath- you put your phone on mute, Sofia didn’t answer your call when you left so screw her.

The woman that just kissed his boss on the cheek might’ve been the most put together person he ever saw in his life. She looked like she belonged in a magazine, with perfect manicured nails, beautiful hair and gorgeous bright teeth that were shown to him as she smiled-introducing herself.

Words didn’t register in his head, too blinded by this strange creature that just waltzed in like it was noth- Falcone?

He told him about her, after the failed drug transport “a woman like that kid whew -don’t think you ever saw someone as beautiful” he paused “ she don’t hang around with just any schmuck, you gotta provide a level of security-of money-I promised myself, I’d get her on my arm one day one way or another.”

This was the sister of ‘The Hangman’ shi-

“Cat got your tongue or you’re gonna leave the girl hanging like this?” Oz said and chuckled, but the jolly behavior didn’t reach his boss eyes, it sounded more like a threat to Victor “Hhey I’m V-victor.” the nerves he felt were clearly evident- poor kid you thought.

“You must be Oz’s driver, nice to meet you.” sadly, you weren’t alone with him “Nice place you got” you said, walking around a bit.

“Vic, go get us some food- doll, you have a preference for anything?”

“No, whatever you say it’s best.”

As Oz instructed Vic where to go, you looked around his place.

It was cozy, you liked it. There was a picture frame with the history of this place- this is where they made the jewels you saw outside- well some of them. That’s cool, also Oz bedroom had these big ass doors, they looked like they were made to hide money.

As Vic left the apartment you looked outside, the big concrete buildings were a stark contrast to the gorgeous scenery you were used to.

“What d’you want to drink? Got some wine, or the strong stuff—whiskey, scotch.” He gave you a half-smile, pouring himself a glass. “But I’m guessing that ain’t your thing.”

“Water’s fine-”

He raised an eyebrow, scoffing lightly. “Nah, c’mon. After the crap you went through today? You deserve better.” Before you could protest, he poured a glass of red wine and handed it to you. “Trust me, this one’s better than what they had back at the restaurant.”

You took a sip as he sat down next to you. He was right, it was much better than the one at the restaurant.

“Guess it’s just… everything that happened today,” you said, a bit quieter. “What if they come after me next?”

He set his glass down, leaning in close. “Listen, doll…” His voice dropped, low and rough as he placed his hand on your knee. You tried to ignore the way his big hands on your leg made you feel. “You’re safe here. No one’s coming for you in this place. I got that covered.” He watched you carefully, making sure you heard every word. “You know I’d never let anything happen to you, right? You don’t gotta worry ‘bout a damn thing here.” he leaned closer to your face- trying to make eye contact as you gazed at the floor and then back up at him.

His hand stayed on your knee, warm and steady, and the intensity in his eyes made your pulse quicken. He wasn’t usually this serious, this protective—and it felt comforting. Comfort that you haven’t felt in a very, very long time

“You sure I’m not in the way here, Oz?” his hand tightened just slightly on your knee and his thumb traced circles on your leg

“Stop it with that. You ain’t ‘in the way,’ alright?” He leaned back, looking off for a second before muttering, “Fuck… when you left, I felt like shit..”

You reached over, brushing your hand against his. “It’s alright, Sofia’s back now; that’s what’s important.”

He huffed, giving you a crooked grin and a full image of his golden teeth “Yeah, sure. But it ain’t just Sofia.” His voice softened, though his hand stayed firm on your knee, possessive, like he didn’t want you going anywhere. “You mean a lot more to me than you think, i'm not gonna let you walk outta here that easily.”

You smiled at him and before you could respond, he closed the distance between the two of you with his mouth on yours with a hungry, possessive force.

The taste of whiskey and warmth flooded over you as he deepened the kiss, his other hand sliding up your back, pulling you in close. When he finally pulled back, his gaze lingered on your face, his hands tucked a stray hair next to your face behind your ear. The deep brown of his eyes had such a warmth to them, like crackling firewood-so gorgeous and full of passion.

“C’mere,” he murmured, his hands guiding you over him. He shifted on the couch, pulling you into his lap until you straddled him, his hands steady on your waist. His touch was possessive, yet gentle as his fingers traced along your hips, holding you there. “Forget all that other crap, it's just you and me, okay?” he said when you were on top of him

The feel of him beneath you, this bull of a man- so dangerous yet so soft towards you, so gentle- you alone could make him feel like this and that thought sent a thrill through you as his hands settled on your back, pulling you in closer.

He kissed you again, deeper this time, his lips warm and slow as he leaned into you. The heat between you grew as his hands slipped beneath your shirt tracing your waist and back, his fingers gripping harder into you with each kiss. You felt his hand move from underneath your shirt to slide up, fingers tangling in your hair, gently tugging you closer as his mouth started to press open mouthed kisses on your neck.

“You’re where you should be, right here with me” he murmured against your skin, his voice so low you thought your ears and cheeks would light on fire from the heat rushing towards them- the way he enveloped you fully-the lingering whisper of tobacco on his collar, blended with the whiskey on his tongue was making you moan all on its own-the way his hands helped you grind down on him- like he’d been waiting for this.

“Oz please” you didn’t exactly know why you were saying please for, just that you wanted him to do ‘something’ .

He placed you with your back on the couch, still kissing you and he lifted your shirt just high enough to grab hold of your jeans. “Take this shit off” he roughly grabbed your jeans zipper and pulled you down a little bit by his movement, barely getting them off and when he did- those stupid skinny jeans stopped at your knees and in his urgency left them there- while also ignoring the very expensive pair of panties who you just bought TODAY.

He didn't even look at them and with one hand under your ass, pulling you closer to his face -he started to press kisses on your ass and near your pussy.

In all this rush, you couldn’t even think straight. With one hand he almost folded you in half and with the other he was pulling you closer to him. You couldn’t believe this was happening- giggling a little bit and moaning- you grabbed your pants and finally pulled them off- tossing them somewhere in the apartment.

You opened your legs to give him space. You felt goosebumps rising on your skin and grabbed his head when he started to lick your clit- placing a hand on your mouth didn't do too much to stop the sounds you were making, but at least you were trying.

His hands went below your shirt, on your tits and he groaned when he got to them-the sound sending a very pleasant vibration to your most sensitive place and making you moan even harder.

One of his hands remained on your breast, massaging it and with his other hand he put his finger inside, you thought that you might actually come from that alone, the way his much bigger finger felt inside of you-a familiar heat started pooling in your stomach-you closed your eyes-trying to not let go of this feeling, “please Oz” you sounded so pathetic, whispering like that.

Oswald didn’t even respond to you, just started pushing his fingers even deeper inside, the feeling of having his tongue touch you repeatedly where you only touched with a finger, maybe two- was the most euphoric thing you ever experienced and the way his fingers would push up like that-”Oh my god” you breathed out, gripping your mouth- your legs wrapped around his head and you moved your hips, trying to get to feel him as much as you could.

While he switched from sucking your clit to rubbing circles with his tongue on your bud, his hands were keeping themselves busy with your nipples- just peeking over your almost pulled down bra from underneath your shirt. This was too much. “I’m gonna-” You don’t think you ever experienced an orgasm like that before, your belly was almost aching by the end, the way you moved against his face made you feel almost sorry, almost.

“Look what you did” Oz turned his body to the side and got up to sit on his ass on the couch- his erection evident in his suit. You got up as well, sipped some of your wine- god that was good, your heartbeat hasn’t slowed down since he grinded you on his cock but now all your nerves were overshadowed by blind confidence that only a woman as young and as beautiful as you could possess when you tossed your top and bra next to you and kissed him as hard as you could, before going down on your hands and knees before him.

“There she is.” he said, smiling-while you were preoccupied with freeing his penis from his pants, you started to pepper light kisses up and down his length, from his uncut head down towards his balls.

He groaned as he slipped off his suspenders and unbuttoned his shirt, giving you a tease of the hair on his chest. He grabbed hold of your hair from this position and you were thinking you were ready for another round by the way you pussy clenched when he did that- with his brows furrowed he guided you to his cock. Ok, so no kisses? Straight to business.

“Can’t even imagine how much I’ve been waiting for this.” as your lips covered the head of his shaft- you tried not to choke as he guided you up and down him. One of your hands went straight for his penis as well to help you- while the other was slowly tracing circles on your still sensitive clit.

“Just like that baby” he groaned and you could see him hold himself back-with one hand he was holding your head and with the other he touched your face- the cold metal of his rings and his gold bracelet as it touched your upper back sent shivers down your spine and you were sure you jumped a little when it came in contact with your hot skin. You tried to breathe as much as you could through your nose, your hand helping you take care of all of him. He unzipped his pants even more, giving you more access to him, his penis wasn’t that long but it was thick, god you wondered how good it must feel inside.

He pulled you off of him to give you room to breathe a little bit and he kissed you again before putting your head on his cock again, his groans and the sounds that your mouth on his shaft made were the only sound in the living room- whenever a moan would leave you, he groaned and pushed your head even deeper down him, almost making your nose touch the dark hair there. Up and down and then again, his cock was fully drenched in a mix of your saliva and his precum- you felt tears well up in your eyes.

He gave a quick inhale before he pulled you off of him and grabbed your body to straddle him once again.

“You’re so beautiful” he said before lifting your hips to touch the head of his penis, you kissed him as he grabbed your tits in his hands and you both moaned in each other’s mouth as you took him.

It did feel really good to have him inside you like this, his forehead had a sheer layer of sweat on it- his eyebrows were furrowed in pleasure.

“Oh, that’s good” he pulled you completely down him and it felt like he reached your belly in this position, Oz grabbed your feet and put them in a squat on either side of him before he helped you get a rhythm- you put your arms on either side of his head, palms touching the back of the couch.

Now, you were definitely sure the neighbors and everyone else in the building could hear you, especially because he started to bounce you up and down his cock like you were riding a horse and the horse was galloping too.

“You like that baby?” he asked you, grinning.

“Yes yes” Whenever his hands would bring you down him, your sensitive clit would touch him again and again- you couldn’t even imagine this being as good as it was.

He grabbed both of your ass cheeks from this position and moved you back and forth him-whenever he would bring you forward his dick would brush up against your g-spot, were you really gonna cum again?

“Fuck-I’m gonna cum” he muttered in your mouth, before his movements lost their rhythm and he pulled his cock just in time to spill himself all over the lower part your back.

You both stayed there for a few moments, breathing like you just ran a marathon.

He cleaned you up with a towel shortly after.

While inside the shower, with the warm water running down your back, realization finally dawned on you- you just made love to the man who you were having wet dreams about since your dad hired him as your driver.

You were butt ass naked riding this man in his living room, while his own driver had to be back with the food, it’s been about 30 minutes, where could this kid have gone to?

After you were done with the shower, you patted yourself dry a little bit and went inside the bedroom, Oz giving you a light smack on your butt as you walked past him to get dressed in the pjs you got for yourself to wear tonight. When you heard the shower starting, you left to get yourself a bottle of water from the fridge and went back to the bedroom to check your phone.

Sofia hasn’t texted you, obviously-she’s too busy with her great plans of taking over the family as the reigning matriarch-

Whatever, stop thinking about her.

After Oz’s driver, Victor, you think, came back- you guys ate some pizza and went to bed. Conversion over dinner was short, just a few “it’s good no?” and “Gosh the weather is starting to be very cold” from Oz and you and Victor being a mute. Surprisingly his driver slept in Oz’s apartment too- on the couch, on which you fucked his boss, yikes.

Oz’s sheets were satin -of course they were, and as he climbed in bed next to you and pulled you closer to him, he said something about your sister coming over tomorrow that you guys had to get your rest- right after saying your ‘good night’- you fell asleep.

Authors note: This smut scene is only the start, idk if you picked up but I still tried to make Oz seem as if he was in a power trip, the hair pulling his smooth talking etc etc. He does love her, dont worry. Anyways thank uuuu for reading, I tried to make it good :))))).

[prettypinkporkchop]

Two Weeks

Seth x fem reader

Description: you're Kim's cousin. You come stay with her and Jared as she has a baby. Seth imprints but you live far away.

Warnings: language, sexual ish

A month ago, you decided to stay with your cousin Kim, who is now married to Jared Cameron. They have a baby on the way, and of course, this happens while you are alone with her, and Jared is off at work.

You're driving fast in your car but not too fast, trying to keep her and the baby safe. Kim is squeezing your free hand and breathing hard, screaming at random times.

"You're doing so good, Kim." You say softly. You're dealing with the pain in your fingers.

"Damn it! Call Rachel!" She screams, taking her phone out and putting it in your lap.

"Love, I can't look away from-"

"Fine!" She cries out and calls Rachel.

You've never met any of her friends, but you've heard of them from the stories she has told you. Her and Jared are good people, so if they like them, you know you will.

"Rachel, please, I'm in the car on the way to the hospital. Get Paul. My cousin is driving." She yells.

---

You sit outside the door on a chair to wait for whoever is about to show. You can hear Kim screaming. Two women and men run up to you. They catch your attention.

"I just got a hold of Jared." One guy says.

"Is she in there?" A woman with scars on her face asks.

On que, Kim screams in pain.

"Does that answer your question?" You cringe at her screams, feeling awful for her. "She said she only wants Jared in there." You say.

"I'm here!" A panicked Jared runs in.

You notice three other guys with him and a girl. A nurse comes over.

"Sorry guys, but there's too many of you right here. Can some of you sit in the main room?" She says.

You look around and catch eyes with one of the guys. He pauses and stares at you. You stare back because you're surprised by how beautiful a man could be.

One of the guys leans over and whispers in his ear. He nods and walks into the waiting room. A few others follow him. Jared talks to a doctor and goes into the room. A doctor tells you that she's almost ready to push. You sit outside the door with the couple you learn to be Emily and Sam.

-----

You got to see the baby. So far, she just looks like a goblin but with Kim's nose. But they're staying the night, so everyone is leaving. You ended up meeting everyone else including Seth. Yup, the one you locked eyes on. But his sister, Leah, keeps watching you like a hawk as if you're already dating him, but you literally don't even know them.

You walk to the car, fumbling with your keys. It's dark, so you pull out your phone and shine the light on your keys to unlock the car.

"Hey," you turn and see Seth. "It was nice meeting you. You should come to the beach with us when we go." He smiles.

You smile and softly laugh. "Yeah, I can. But I won't be here much longer. I have to go home in like two weeks."

His face loses the happy smile. "Oh. Where do you live?" He asks.

"(Your state)."

He looks down and then begins to smile again. "Two weeks is all I need."

"What does that mean?" You awkwardly laugh. No, for real. He's cute, so you'll have to let the weirdness slide.

"It means that these next two weeks, you'll have a good time."

----

(DAY 2)!!!! DAY 1 WAS JUST TALKING AT A COFFEE SHOP

"So, the boy is back!" You cross your arms and lean on the doorframe. Behind you inside the house is Kim and Jared. They're loving on the baby and taking care of her.

Seth smirks and then grabs your wrist, pulling you out of the doorway.

You close the door behind you and look at the tall man.

"I told you, two weeks is all I need." He smiles showing his perfect teeth.

"Yesterday was more like interviews." You walk down the steps toward his truck.

He follows behind you. "Now that we know a lot about each other, I was thinking we go on an adventure."

You get inside his truck, and he gets in the drivers seat. He starts the truck, and you watch him. The way his arms look. His cheeks, his hair. Shut up, y/n.

"Do you enjoy car rides?" He asks.

"Yes." You smile at him.

"I want to hear your music."

You guys ended up staying on the road for two hours, screaming lyrics. You've learned that the guy can lowkey sing well. He also has the same music taste as you. You guys have been having a really fun evening, and you're already so addicted to his company.

He turns off the music and looks at you. "Want to park somewhere and chill? I think we've almost hit every good scenic road." He chuckles.

"Sure!"

He ends up pulling into a trail in the trees. He gets out of the car and walks around to open your door.

"What are we doing?" You slowly get out of your seat.

"Trust me! You'll like it." He softly nudges you with his shoulder.

You only trust him because of Kim. Plus, he's hot, so...

Midway through walking, your shoe starts to hurt the back of your feet. "Oh, shit." You stop and lean against a tree. Your shoe is broken.

"What is it?" He asks, concerned.

"My shoe is hurting me." You giggle and take off your shoe, showing your sock. Your sock is SpongeBob.

Seth can't help but burst into laughter.

"Hey! Leave SpongeBob alone." You roll your eyes.

"It's cute." He says and looks over you.

You look at him and then look down, leaving out a breathy laugh. "Thanks." You take off the other shoe.

"Here." He steps closer and then turns around, slightly bending. "Jump."

"Uh, no, no, no. I think I'm a bit too heavy for you to walk with." You laugh.

"Jump." He repeats.

You hesitate, but put your hands on his shoulders and jump. He lifts up, hooking his arms under your knees. You wrap your arms around his neck, and you realize he's holding you effortlessly. Yeah, he do be built.

You lay your head on his shoulder and look over the side of his face. The sun that's lowering shines through the trees which makes his brown eyes golden.

"You're beautiful." You whisper to him.

----

Every day has been full of Seth. You've completely fallen for him. You have two days now. Two days until you go back home.

Seth lives on his own in a small camper. He has kept it all fancy and cute. You've decided to go see him tonight, surprise him. Even though you guys spent all of today together, it's night and you dont want to be away from him. You're thinking about just kissing him, but at the same time, you don't want to because you'll just have to leave after. You can't do long distance. You're honestly depressed that you're leaving behind Forks.

You knock on the camper door, and Seth answers the door. He smiles when he sees you. As usual, he's shirtless. His hair is stringy showing that he has gotten out of the shower.

"Couldn't get enough of me, huh?" He giggles.

You grab the back of his neck and pull him closer. His breath catches, and he looks down at you. His hands rest on your sides.

"I want to kiss you so bad." You whisper.

"There's a lot you need to know before we do that." You whispers.

"What do you mean?" You ask. You two remain in this position.

"If I tell you everything, will you stay here?"

"Where will I stay? I doubt Kim would-",

"Trust me. She would. She knows." He backs up and looks at you.

You are confused as hell. Curious and nervous, too. "I'd have to go back home and pack everything." You reply.

He smiles widely. "Does this mean you'll stay?"

"I'll ask Kim." You smirk and step forward.

His hands grab your hands and he smiles down at you. "I hope I don't scare you off."

"You couldn't." You look into his eyes.

"Let's go inside."

----- (he tells you everything)----

Your fingers touch his tattoo. He watches your fingers trace the lines. You're sitting in front of him on his bed. The bed feels like a cloud underneath you. He has his LED lights on. You can still see every perfect line in his face.

"Am I crazy for moving here to be with you?"

"Yes. But what's even crazier is shifting and imprinting." He chuckles.

"You're right." You giggle. You stop and look at his face.

His eyes roam around, eventually landing on your lips. You may or may not have gone a bit crazy. You quickly push him back and crawl on his lap, pressing your lips on his. He kisses you back and holds on to your waist. He leans up, holding onto your back and kissing you harder. His lips feel so good against yours. You part lips, playing with your tongues and kissing over and over, having a heated Makeout session. Your hands roam on his abs. His hands stay on your back, remaining respectful. You quickly notice and use one hand to guide his lower to your ass. He squeezes roughly before switching you two around and pinning you down. His lips attack your neck, leaving bites but no marks. You moan in his ear. He breathes out when you get loud letting you know that your moans are turning him on.

---- (you guys didn't go far. He was quick to stop.)

You both go into his kitchen area. He scratches his head and looks around. "Want something to eat?"

"I should head back to Kim's. It's late and I want to ask her before she goes to bed." You reply.

"Gotcha. When you leave to pack, let me come with." He steps forward and kisses your cheek.

----

Kim shushes you as you close the front door. She has on a robe and looks miserable, poor lady.

"Sorry." You whisper. "I have a question."

She smiles and mixes some milk in a bottle. "I think I already know. Do you know about the big secret?" She looks at you.

You nod your head in response.

She smirks. "Hmm. I do like having you here. Jared will be proud and happy for Seth." She closes the lid to the bottle. "What about your old house? Your old job? Are you for sure wanting to start over?"

"Are you saying this is a bad idea?" You ask.

"It's reckless and stupid if we were regular people. Thing is, we aren't. I'd do it for Jared." Her eyes shift to behind you and she giggles.

You quickly turn around and see Seth standing at the door.

"Like I told you, all I needed is two weeks." He tells Kim.

"Oh, you're right, you wolfie stud." She jokes.

"Cringe." You laugh.

[twiniverse]

Just to give it its own post, because it's important enough to warrant it:

I'm not "the person choosing the give the finger to people who need accessibility tools". I have not once said that people can't write ids on my posts. I didn't say I wouldn't look into having someone else do it. I said that I can't do it, that it is not my job, and that a certain someone's attitude is foul and that makes people less likely to want to do what they say.

I also have not thrown a little hissy fit because someone isn't doing what I want. I haven't literally told anyone that I wouldn't leave them alone until they did what I wanted them to do. I haven't used several different accounts and ips to evade being blocked in order to angrily yell about how superior I am to everyone else in the fandom, or to belittle anyone. I haven't gone to the side account of someone who has blocked me to continue my tantrum there.

I don't have a problem with accessibility, or with people who volunteer their time to give access to more people. Believe it or not, accessibility is something I'm highly dedicated to and something I am often finding new ways to implement in my actual job. My team is implementing on-site image blockers on the user side so they don't have to see things that upset them. We're making sure our on-site games aren't going to be triggering people's vertigo. We're making sure there are colour themes so that no one has to choose between blinding white light or blinding white letters, but the people who do like those options will have them, too! We're implementing high contrast mode! Our head coder is blind, in fact. We'll be working with her quite a bit to make the site- which is visual based- still accessible for those with screen readers and other aids. She has a braille display, isn't that cool? I didn't even know those were a thing until she told me.

My problem is specifically with the person who has not only harassed me, but other people in the fandom. My problem is specifically with the person who outright admitted that their reaction to being told "no" is to become aggressive and condescending. My problem is specifically with the person who thinks they're the only person who gives a damn. My problem is with the person who says that they don't have to do it, that they're volunteering their time because they care, but also says it's their job and we need to let them do it. My problem is with the person who speaks on behalf of others who do not want to be spoken for. My problem is specifically with the person who told me that they would continue harassing me unless I met their demands. My problem is specifically with the person who will read a fraction of what I actually said here and will respond with how horrible of a human I am because I focus on accessibility with my actual job and not my fancomic that I barely have the energy to work on in the first place.

My problem is specifically with the person who read everything I said and instead of recognising and accepting that they're the only one I have a problem with decided to start attacking me and accusing me of being ableist because they, and no one else, have pissed me off.

As I said to begin with, I blocked them because of their attitude and the way they harass people. The way they've harassed my friends, the way they've harassed people I don't like, the way they've harassed newbies, etc, etc. It had nothing to do with IDs, and it still doesn't. I blocked a shitty person, and that person made an assumption and is throwing a hissy fit about it. That's all there is to it. The bottom line is that genuinely anyone can add id's to my posts except for that specific person because I don't want that specific person interacting with me.

This next bit is for you, that specific person: "-but you blocked me after writing a single image description for your posts, for some stupid reason." It was not a stupid reason. And like I said in my response, it had nothing to do with you writing an image description for my post. It's because you're a foul, slimy little cockroach with a superiority complex. You think you're the hero but you're the villain here.

So, again, as disrespectfully as possible: Fuck. Off.

[ur-dad-satan]

DiaxF!MC

Distract me!

4.4K words, 18+ MDNI, enjoy <3

(Includes swearing, MxF sex, oral, face painting, r1ding, m1ssionary, etc. etc.)

It was a quiet Friday afternoon in the Devildom; RAD was closed for repairs due to a fight amongst the brothers that resulted in several desks and chairs thrown across several classrooms and a destroyed pillar or two. MC sat in her room bored and alone as all of the brothers were busy; Mammon, Satan, and Belphie were all being punished, Lucifer was punishing them, Asmo was working, and Beel was at fangol practice. MC has texted Levi, but he hadn't replied in over 2 hours.

"Damn, seems like I'm on my own today. Doom scrolling it is." She said to herself and opened some social media app.

Over at the Demon Lord's castle, Diavolo sat frowning at his desk; a huge stack of paperwork frowned back at him. The prince sighed and ran a hand through his soft hair. He was trying to do his work, but his brain seemed to reject the words on the documents as he found himself just staring into space. Briefly, he looked up checking for his butler, who was more like a nanny, then went on his DDD. He needed a break and he knew just the human to help.

*.*.*.*.*.

Dia: MC!! SOS

MC: What!? MC: What happened???

Dia: I need an escape! Please break me out 🥺

MC: Last time I did that, Barbatos lectured me for 3 hours straight after giving me extra energizing tea. MC: You're on your own this time, Young Master

Dia: Please!!! I'll take full blame and everything! Dia: I'll even buy you something from that boutique you've been eyeing

MC: How do YOU know I've been eyeing that old boutique? 🤨

Dia: Now is not the time for me to explain how much you post on social media! Please!! I'm begging you!

MC: Okay, fine. MC: But don't come crying to me when Barbs makes you eat nothing but pickles for an entire afternoon

Dia: Thank you so much, MC!! Dia: And why would you even put that idea out there? 😐

MC: Gonna teleport you to Purgatory Hall. Solomon should be in the lab MC: Wait there and I'll come by to get you.

Dia: Thank you! I can't wait!

*.*.*.*.*.

Diavolo smiled at the little device in his hand and quickly locked the door to his office as quietly as he could and waited to appear in Purgatory Hall. A little while later, MC was ringing the doorbell to the Hall where she agreed to meet Diavolo. After a moment, a white haired man opened the door looking incredibly stressed and irritated.

"Damn, Solo, you look rough." MC said in a joking yet concerned tone.

"Hello to you too, MC." Solomon rolled his eyes and let the other human in before continuing. "I'm perfecting some spells, both for class and for myself. Diavolo isn't helping, but he isn't hurting either; though he did say you two were hanging out." MC explained the situation as they walked to the common room, causing Solomon to grimace at the thought of them inevitably being caught by Barbatos. When the two humans entered the room, Diavolo's eyes lit up in excitement.

"Hello, MC!" The prince said standing to embrace his "savior".

"Hey, Dia." MC said returning the hug.

"Dia?" Solomon asked and raised an eyebrow.

"Mind your business." MC grinned. When Diavolo let go, MC handed him a bag that they had been carrying.

"What's this for?" He asked taking it regardless.

"We don't need anyone recognizing you, and clearly, you don't have any actual casual clothes, so I brought you a pair of Beel's sweatpants, one of Levi's hoodies, a hat and some sunglasses." MC gestured to the literal suit he was wearing to emphasize her point. Diavolo smiled sheepishly and followed Solomon to one of the gust rooms so he could change.

Not long after initially leaving, the red haired man came back; the black cargo pants fit him almost perfectly, and so did the hoodie. He was a bit taller than Levi, so it was a little shorter than it would be on the purple haired demon, so his t-shirt poked out from under the gray hoodie the slightest bit. MC looked him up and down and had to stop herself from drooling.

*A.N. I'm a whore for unnecessary detail so I put the outfit I'm talking about at the end of the fic. I found it on Pinterest :)*

The two thanked Solomon for his hospitality and apologized for the interruption, then left, wandering into town. The two walked around until they found a little ice cream shop and decided to get some. It was a small, empty, shop with only two employees in it, and a small variety of flavors from both the human world and Devildom. MC got a scoop of vanilla and a scoop of blood strawberry ice cream. Diavolo got a similar combination of blood strawberry and chocolate. As the two talked and laughed, the sky turned darker.

After they were done in the shop, they begin wandering the town once more. All was well as the two walk and talk before a drop of water falls on MC's nose. "Oh, shit. It's starting to rain." MC said looking up to the darkening sky.

"Ah, so it seems. I'm still not ready to go back yet, however I know how fragile humans are, and I don't want you to get sick." Diavolo said sincerely and got closer to the human seemingly shielding her from the weather. Something in his voice made something in her stomach flutter just a bit.

"Neither do I. I have a friend who runs a little hotel nearby. Maybe they'll have an extra room for us." MC suggested. Diavolo nodded in approval and extended his hand for MC to take so she can lead him out of the rain that was starting to fall heavier. Their brisk walk soon turned into a mild jog, a light run, and then a full on sprint as the light drizzle turned into a frigid downpour leaving the two soaking wet and laughing at the situation. As they all but burst into the reception of the small hotel, their laughs died down, but their warm smiles lingered.

"MC! And friend! What a pleasant surprise!" The demon said and pushed his glasses up his nose.

"Hey Noah! Sorry for the unannounced visit." MC said and leaned over the counter to give him a quick hug.

"Nah, don't be. I run a hotel. I'm used to unannounced guests; they kinda give me my whole business." Noah joked making MC laugh and Diavolo chuckle a bit. MC explained that the duo just needed a room for a little while to get out of the rain. Noah gave them a discount on a nice, secluded room after learning who MC's 'friend' was and threw a wink her way, causing her face to heat slightly and her eyes to roll in amusement.

*.*.*.*.*.

Thirty minutes later, MC and Diavolo were wrapped in the complementary robes and their underwear as the rest of clothes hung up to dry. The two sat close together, warm and cozy, on the large fluffy bed as they half watched a movie. Neither could remember when it happened, but Diavolo's arm somehow ended up around MC's waist pulling her close. As the movie went on, one of the characters said something that made MC giggle.

"That's what she said." Diavolo muttered under his breath almost instinctively. MC's eyes widened in amusement and slight surprise.

"That's what she said?" MC repeated. It took Diavolo a second to realize that he had even said anything; once he did, a light pink gently dusted his pretty face.

"Sorry, that just came out." The prince said sheepishly.

"I didn't think you could make jokes like that, Young Master." MC joked copying the way Barbatos calls Diavolo. He faked a grimace and moved his arm from around MC to gently and jokingly push her face away while he laughed. The human dramatically fell backward and laughed along with him.

"Please don't call me that." Diavolo laughed. MC sat back up and thought for a moment before grinning.

"What should I call you then? Besides Lord Diavolo, of course." MC asked genuinely wanting to know.

"Hmm, I quite like when you call me Dia. It's cute." He smiled a bit at the admission.

"Of course it's cute. It's your name." MC complemented and unconsciously leaned close to Diavolo. A mischevious smirk pulled at the corners of the demon's lips and he got closer to MC before speaking again.

"Are you flirting with me, MC?" Diavolo asked in a teasing tone. MC, not backing down, put her face impossibly closer to his, but didn't allow them to touch just yet.

"So what if I am, mister prince? Would you order me to stop?" MC matched his energy. The two stared in each others eyes for what seemed like hours, but was just about 10 seconds, as the air became thick. "So, what happens now, Dia?" MC asked putting seductive emphases on his name.

"What do you want to happen?" Diavolo responded; though he already knew the response, he wanted MC to say it. He needed to hear it from her mouth on the miniscule chance that he was wrong so he didn't fuck this up.

"Kiss me." MC said lowly. Almost instinctively, one of Dia's hands cupped the human's face, and their lips met. MC leaned into the touch and she put her hand on Diavolo's thigh. He let out a small sigh, and placed his other hand on the small of MC's back, pulling her closer. While the two made out, their robes got looser, Diavolo's underwear got tighter, and MC's panties got wet. Without breaking the kiss, MC straddled the red-haired prince sitting just shy of the growing bulge under his robe and putting her hands on his face. Diavolo moved his hands to MC's thighs, kneading them - moving closer and closer to her ass. They keep kissing, but before long, Diavolo can't help himself; he pulled MC so that she was flush against his chest, his hands were on her ass under the robe, and her crotch was pushing against his.

"Someone's handsy." MC teased against his lips. Diavolo let out a low, breathy chuckle before kissing down her neck and squeezing her ass again. The combined slight pain and pleasure of his nails digging into her skin made the human bite her lip to stop from moaning.

"Well, can you blame me?" He said against MC's skin. The vibration of his voice against her skin made her shiver. As the prince kissed and licked messily on MC's neck, one of the human's hands slid down his chest, to untie the robe; she guided it down his arms so it would expose his chest. She ran a hand down his chest, eliciting a light moan from him as her fingers grazed over his nipple. He roughly squeezed MC's ass, then pulled her underwear up to expose more of her ass cheeks. MC sat back to look Diavolo in the eye; his eyes we're slightly glossy in pleasure and he just looked so fucking good. MC gingerly untied his robe, and placed her fingers on the waistband on his boxers before speaking.

"Is this what we're doing, baby?" MC asked before going any further.

"I hope so; no pressure, of course, sweetheart." Diavolo said genuinely and moved his hands from her ass to her waist to further prove his point.

"I was just making sure." MC said and started to kiss and lick Diavolo's neck before sticking one of her hands past his waistband and gripping his hard dick, making his breath catch in his throat, followed by a low moan seeping from his throat. His hands moved back to MC's ass, squeezing and kneading once more as the human worked her magic. It took no time for the prince to become a flushed, aroused mess, and he thought he couldn't feel any better until MC's hand that wasn't stroking his dick, started playing with his nipples making him gasp and squirm lightly.

"Fuck, MC." He moaned breathlessly. If he could get harder, then he did and MC's pussy only got wetter, slowly soaking the fabric of her underwear and getting on Diavolo's. The red-haired prince couldn't help himself and started to play with MC's pussy over her underwear making a moan bubble up from her stomach.

"Holy shit," she said against his skin, and bit down right below his collar bone. It was like all of the man's reasoning ceased functioning in that instant; after his eyes finished rolling a bit, he pulled the robe off MC and threw it somewhere in the room. MC followed suit, and pulled his robe the rest of the way off of his arms, letting it fall to the bed, and kept touching and biting him.

"MC, I need you," His words were cut off by a moan. MC smirked and kissed Diavolo on the lips, kneaded his chest, and played with his nipple. "A-ahh, f-f-fUCK. I need you in my mouth." He forced out and gripped MC's hips. MC chuckled, moved her hands to hold his face, and started kissing him deeply on the lips. Her tongue plunged into his mouth as she took in his taste: the faint flavor of ice cream and heat.

"Is this what you meant?" MC asked faux-innocently against his lips. Though her eyes were closed, she could tell that he rolled his eyes from the smirk she could feel pull at his lips.

"Honey, you know that's not what." Diavolo replied desperately yet amusedly. MC let out a small giggle and pulled back looking the prince in the eye.

"Lay down for me." MC pretty much commanded, which the red-haired prince followed almost immediately. Diavolo hooked his fingers in the top of MC's underwear and helped her out of them. Instead of normally sitting on his face like he expected her to, the human, now naked from the waist down, turned and sat on his upper chest facing away from him and began to pull at his boxers to take them off as well. He lifted his waist to allow MC to strip him as he pulled her waist up to his mouth so he could eat her out.

Diavolo's mouth went to work; licking, lapping, sucking, and tongue fucking MC's wet cunt. As he messily ate her out, MC sucked him off. Her head bobbed, and her tongue licked and ran up his length and over the head. The room was filled with the sounds of the two moaning, heavily breathing, and wet slurping. Diavolo wrapped his arms around MC's thighs to keep them open and gently dug his nails into her lower back making her moan around his cock. MC's warm, wet mouth felt so good around Diavolo's hard dick that his hips seemed to have a mind of their own. He planted his feet on the bed, and started thrusting his hips up into MC's mouth; he started slowly, careful not to hurt or choke the human, but fuck was his control slipping. It wasn't long before MC pulled off of his cock with a pop and clearing her throat to speak between moans.

"Dia," she started. "I w-want to fuck you... so bad." MC said while still pumping his dick to keep him hard. Diavolo only responded with a moan and a squeeze to her lower back before pulling away and letting go of her legs. MC readjusted and let Diavolo sit up with his back against the headboard. The human removed her bra so they both were completely nude, then sat just shy of his dick once more.

"Are you sure you want to go further, Dearest? I don't have a condom or anything." Diavolo said. Obviously, he wanted to have sex with MC, but he needed to make sure she 100 percent wanted to; an 'enthusiastic yes', as he had once heard it called. MC leaned in close, almost letting their lips touch, but not quite.

"Fuck yes." She said lowly, yet certainly. Before she could lean in, Dia closed the gap between their lips, capturing her in another heated kiss. MC placed one of her hands on Diavolo's chest, while the other hand stroked his cock again. The demon moaned and moved to kiss and suck on MC's neck. The human's breath caught in her throat as a small sharp pain emitted from the base of her neck; unconsciously, she tilted her head in hopes he would bite her again, before adjusting to hover over the prince's dick. "Is this how you want me, baby?" MC asked seductively, looking for permission as he had not long ago.

"Absolutely, my darling." Diavolo said as his signature black, red, and gold accented horns and wings appeared almost instantaneously. His pretty yellow eyes deepened into a radiant, almost sparkling, gold and his hands found their way to MC's waist and squeezed gently yet possessively as she slowly slid her soaking wet cunt onto Diavolo's hard cock. They both let out a shuddered moan, MC threw her head back, and Diavolo let his eyes flutter closed; clearly, they no longer cared about being quiet.

After taking a moment to adjust to his size, the human started to move. Up and down, up and down, squeezing, taking him deeper, leaning her body closer to his so he can bite her once again. Constantly moving, heat prickling her skin threatening to start sweating, and moans and swears bubbling up from her stomach leaked from her pretty mouth. Dia's hands guided MC's hips to the perfect speed for both of them as his face got warmer and warmer. He continued to suck and lick MC's skin, being much more careful with his teeth knowing how sharp they can be while like this.

As if she was weightless, Diavolo flipped the two of them over so that MC was on her back and he was kneeling on the bed in front of her. With a lustful smirk on his face, as if he had just gotten a great idea, he pulled MC to the edge of the bed and pushed into her once again.

"Fuck!" She moaned. The prince moaned in response and leaned down to kiss her lips.

"You're so fucking good, pumpkin." He complemented against her lips. His thrusts became slower, more deliberate, as if he was making sure this lasted as long as possible. MC let out a breathy giggle between soft moans causing Diavolo to amusedly move his face back to look at MC. He face was flushed, her lips were swollen, and a thin layer of sweat now coated his beautiful skin. "What's so funny?" He asked sweetly and slowed down even more.

"Nothing, I've just never heard you swear before." MC said looking at him with lidded, lust filled eyes. The red-haired demon let out his own small laugh and something he hadn't really paid attention to before caught his eye.

"Well," Diavolo started, then grabbed MC's face by the chin- his large hand so soft against her skin- and guided her gaze to a mirror to their right. The sight was unlike anything MC could have ever imagined; of all of the times she's fantasized about being with anyone, this was a thousand times better. "I've never seen you like this, my little lamb." Diavolo said and began kissing MC's neck once again, watching her face contort in pleasure and her eyes struggle to stay open and not roll back and shut. Fuck, she was so much more gorgeous than he had ever thought; he'd never be able to look at her like before again. Her beauty, he scent, her moans, the way she felt in his arms, it was utterly intoxicating. Absentmindedly, he started to fuck her faster than he was before, and with the speed, came the force. The sounds of skin slapping and their moans was better than any cursed record either of them had ever listened to, or would ever listen to. As the pressure started to build in MC's abdomen, her moans got more needy and desperate, and her nails dug into Diavolo's sweaty back.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck," The human moaned as she neared and toppled over the edge of her orgasm. The prince slowed his hips but kept the same amount of force, making MC moan loudly with every time his skin hit hers. As he kept fucking her, getting close to his own orgasm, he noticed the creamy white cum gathering on his dick and it turned him on an immeasurable amount more making his orgasm come faster than he thought it would. He pulled out of her and moaned as his own hot, white, sticky cum painted MC's boobs and face.

"Shit!" He exhaled sharply as he rode out his orgasm and MC licked some of the cum off of her face, swallowing what she could like it was life saving.

"You're fucking amazing." MC complemented out of breath. In response, Dia just kissed her, the smirk evident on both of their faces. When he did pull away, he took a moment to admire her and how utterly filthy she looked with messy hair, hickeys on her chest, and covered in sweat and cum.

"You're one to talk." He smirked and got on his knees. He wasn't quite finished just yet.

"What are you doing?" MC asked opening her legs a bit to see where he was.

"First to cum, last to cum." He said simply and propped MC's legs on his broad shoulders, spreading them further. Before MC could ask what the hell that meant, Diavolo had gone back to work eating MC out. Her breath caught as her body seemed to move on its own; her head fell back down onto the bed, her back arched dramatically, one foot's toes curled while the other's pointed, and her hands went from covering her face to Diavolo's horns making him moan as well. Since she was still so sensitive, and Diavolo decided to play with her clit, MC ended up cumming very quickly and very loudly, pulling Diavolo by the hair to get him as close as he could physically be and trembling with pleasure.

"Holy shit, Dia! I don't think I've ever cum that hard." MC said in a breathless laugh. Diavolo laid across the bed next to her and placed his and in one of her still shaky hands. He laughed lightly, then kissed the back of her hand.

"I couldn't help myself. You taste so damn good." He complemented still flushed. As the two laid next to each other hand in hand, a comfortable silence washed over the room. Once they had completely caught their breath, Dia helped MC into the shower and acted as her support because her legs were no longer shaky, but definitely weak in a good way. As they were putting their now dry clothes on, they heard the door open and saw the worst thing come into the room. Barbatos stood in the doorway with his icy glare and completely calm expression on his face. Despite his demeanor, they could both tell that he was pissed at them by two very key things: 1). he was in his demon form, and 2). they could feel the murderous intent radiating off of him from where he stood.

"Young Master, MC, I am here to escort you both back to where you belong; please finish getting dressed. And, I would like you both to know that I am very disappointed in you two. I will be right outside of the door when you are both ready." The butler said and turned around to leave the room. As the door clicked closed, the two turned to look at each other with a mixture of fear, embarrassment, and amusement in varying amounts. They giggled amongst themselves, and hurried to finish getting dressed. Before they opened the door, Diavolo pulled MC close and kissed her lips once more.

"My dear, I want you to know that I'd do this again. I don't regret anything." He said sincerely.

"Neither do I, Dia," MC agreed and pecked his lips. When they opened the door, Barbatos was looking at them with a bored expression on his face and clearly fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"I would hope that you regret this and not do this again. Now, I will be escorting you back to the House of Lamentation and the castle respectively. Let us go." Barbatos spoke in his usual tone and turned on his heel. Dia and MC looked at each other and the prince mouthed the words 'I don't' to MC causing her to giggle silently. The three walked past the front desk where Noah still was behind the desk. The only difference was that he sported a knowing smirk and held back a laugh.

"Bye, enjoy the rest of your evening." He spoke to the three of them. Barbatos bid him farewell, and once the blue haired demon turned to continue out of the hotel, Noah caught MC's arm stopping her from leaving.

"You're gonna tell me everything when you're done getting in trouble with mister angry pants, you know that right?" Noah asked quietly. MC's face burned and she made a 'talk to the hand' motion. Before she got too far from him, she turned back once more and mouthed 'obviously' with a still embarrassed look on her face. The other demon just smiled knowingly and waved.

*.*.*.*.*.

As MC walked back into the HOL, Asmo, Beel, and Lucifer were all sat in the living room. They didn't really look up from what they were doing, but they instinctively knew that it was MC coming back. They greeted her, and she immediately went into her room. Not even five minutes later, a series of rapid knocks sounded on her door.

"Come in." MC answered. In a flash, Asmodeus came into the human's room with Solomon on his phone.

"I can smell the lust and Solomon told me you hung out with Diavolo in secret today, so tell us EVERYTHING!" Asmo rushed out.

"Later. We'll go out with my friend who's hotel we went to." MC said in a tired tone.

"HOTEL!?" The both of them asked in incredulous unison.

"Out!" The exasperated human commanded and Asmo stood up.

"Fine! But you have to swear you'll tell us every gritty detail when we go out." the blond demon bargained.

"Fine. Love you bye." MC said and turned over ready to take a nap.

"Love you bye!" Asmo and Solomon said together once more and the demon left. Before MC could close her eyes, her D.D.D. vibrated. Rolling her eyes, she opened the text and saw it was a voice message from Diavolo.

(We're all going to pretend the blank says MC and I wasn't too lazy to edit it.)

*.*.*.*.*.

A.N: Here's the outfit Diavolo was wearing incase you were actually wondering. Also this didn't take 6 months! Yay! New smut poll maybe in a week or so. <3

[the-halfling-prince]

"I swear on my mother, wherever the hell she is-" This show istg

[spywhitney]

How I sleep knowing I'll never trust anyone that hates Sydney but worships Richie: