#i'm so tired of this same song and dance over and over again of these two acting all supportive of me and my mental health

[emotionalcadaver]

You guys. So my mom just tore into me because I decided not to go on this daytrip thing that my parents have planned to do tomorrow. Even though she literally told me that I didn’t have to go if I didn’t want to. Ma’am!? You literally offered that I didn’t have to go. Don’t offer that if you weren’t actually okay with it. This is why I am almost incapable of saying no to people. Because for my whole life I’ve been taught that even if someone says it’s okay if I say no, it’s actually not and I get punished for it. I just wanted a day to myself to rest and recharge especially since the rest of the week is going to be INSANITY.  

And then, when I tried to tell her that I’m feeling really anxious because my throat’s been sore most of the day, not only does she fully dismiss that I might be sick, but she threatened to cut off my therapy because it “doesn’t seem like you’re making any progress.” So now I have that to worry about.

I’m just so done with both of my parents at this point and I’m starting to realize that maybe the best thing for me actually would be to get as far away from them as possible after graduation.  

[reiderwriter]

🩺 Protect and Serve 🩺

Spencer Reid x stripper! Female Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge

Summary: Spencer makes a fool of himself in front of a very pretty nurse. Who turns out to not be a nurse at all, but a stripper.

Warnings: Erotic dance, pole dancing, uniforms, doctor play (?), semi-public sex, fingering, strip tease, nipple play, use of birth control - condoms, penetrative sex (PinV).

A/N: He's protecting, she's serving cunt. That's the pairing dynamic for this fic. I love writing Spencer as dumb because he does canonically lose it around hot people, and we, dear readers, are all hot people. I added the strip tease song below of you want to really get in the mood!

Masterlist || Bingo Board

“Okay, everyone, listen up,” Hotch called out to the masses, the three teams of officers, and his own team who were lined up and ready to receive orders. 

“We're going to do a simple canvass. Ask anyone you spot if they've seen our missing person and if they've seen any suspicious activity around the area in the last month. You have further lines of questioning laid out in your briefs. Also, we have no reason to believe the unsub will be hunting right now, so we're going to be canvassing individually.”

The crowd nodded in a wave of understanding, taking the information as it came before getting ready to receive their areas to work in. 

Spencer had devised the map himself, so he didn't have to wait in line, instead, walking to his corner of the block and getting himself ready for interactions. 

The clock struck 11, and he began, waiting for the usual shaky characters of the night to stroll out onto the streets. After a series of abductions from this area, and the general disrepair of all local CCTV cameras, the BAU knew exactly where their unsub was hunting from, but not the how, the why, or the who. 

In a last ditch effort, they'd turned to goodwill from the public. 

“Excuse me, sir, do you have a few minutes to answer some ques-” 

“Go fuck yourself.” 

“Okay, have a great evening.”

For the best part of the first hour, all of his interactions were the same repeat of hostility and general apathy. For long stretches of time, nobody walked by at all, and some were even growing frustrated by being accosted by multiple law enforcement officers within the hour.

He'd almost lost hope for a lead when the clock struck twelve, and you'd ran around the corner, nearly bowling him over as you raced to get to work. 

“Shit, oh, I'm sorry-” you said, realising you'd landed in a soft place, and not on the tarmac you knew from experience was a pain. He'd accidentally broken your fall and was all the more sorry for it. 

“No, it's okay… ah, um, it's not that bad.” 

You stood yourself up, removing yourself from the body of the stranger. The body of the man wearing an FBI jacket, who you now recognised as being with one of the dozen or so cops that had stopped you in your dash from your car (parked further downtown so it wouldn't get stolen) to your place of work. 

“Oh, god, I'm so sorry, officer. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry,” you mumbled again and again as you offered him a hand up. He took it hesitantly, grabbing his papers as he jumped on this opportunity to have a conversation with the first normal looking person he'd come across in an hour. 

If he'd been less eager, less tired, and in all honesty, less immediately attracted to you  he'd have realised that you had a destination in mind. One that, while being above board mostly, still made you weary of cops. 

“It's Agent actually - Doctor, but- anyway, um, could I possibly have a few minutes of your time? We're looking into a recent string of abductions in the area, and we’re asking if you've seen anything out of the ordinary.” 

You stood trapped by his surprisingly wide frame, his height dwarfing you by a few inches and the path being just narrow enough that you either had to decline politely, or just push past him to keep going. 

Unfortunately, you, too found him slightly too attractive than you were willing to admit, attractive enough that you'd gladly miss out on a half hours worth of tips to answer questions you'd honestly already answered before now. You'd always been weak for a man in uniform.

“I-I guess so. This will only be a few minutes, right?” 

“Of course, I wouldn't want to keep you from your work,” he said, gesturing down at your outfit. If it weren't for his totally genuine tone, you'd have thought he was being cruel. 

Usually, you didn't show up for work in your performance clothes, trying not to draw any more attention to yourself on the streets at midnight, but you'd been forced to that day. 

It was Uniform Day at the strip club, and your boss was entirely too cheap to buy the Uniforms himself, and absolutely cruel enough to penalise anyone who showed up without some kind of costume. Your nurse outfit had been in transit and out for delivery since 10 am. that morning, arriving exactly 10 hours later. 

It wasn't exactly a realistic cosplay. Sure there was a cute pen clip, and you were technically wearing scrubs, but they were also skin tight, and you knew for a fact that your nipples were hard and visible through the thin material, because taking a glance down, even you could see them. 

“Do you usually work the night shift?” He asked, bringing his clipboard up to take notes of your answers. 

He absolutely did not know you were a stripper. 

“Yeah. We don't really get many people in during the day. Too embarrassing, not the time for it.”

He nodded and tried to pretend like he was writing something of merit down, but secretly, he was very much enjoying the curves Of your body as the tight material hung off your body. 

The “scrubs” were baby blue  but he had no doubt that if the heavens opened right, then they'd become as see-through as cling film. 

He, too, wanted to cling to you. 

“Have you noticed anyone suspicious in the area recently, anything new or out of the ordinary?” 

“I mean, I couldn't possibly say. You know how this neighbourhood is, it's… well, it's not exactly the safest.” 

He nodded again and acted out sympathy, unaware how the feeling should feel now that he was faced with a woman so perfect that he'd entirely lost the ability to process emotions. 

“Right, right…” 

You stood for another moment or two, waiting for his follow up question, but his eyes raked over you in a way you were entirely familiar with. Unlike your usual clientele though, he snapped himself out of it, and had the wherewithal to look bashful. 

“Ask about victim, no leading questions,” he read quickly, before looking up at you and stammering through a new question. 

“S-so. Are there usually a lot of women walking around this area alone at night?” 

You did your nest to hold off a smile, to stay serious as he made the best of the script he was given.  

“Yeah, a few of the places have staff on hand to protect the girls, but my place is mostly women. We stick together as best as we can, but a client or two gets too attached now and again,” he nodded. 

“Patients can often become infatuated with their care staff,” he said, and he was so earnest that you wanted to take everything back and let him go. You wanted to see how long it would take him to realise there was only one body part you and your colleagues cared for. 

“I did think the industry was becoming more gender inclusive. Are there no men on staff?” 

“Oh, yeah. We have men, too. They're mostly request only, though, so we don't see them every day.” 

“Fascinating! You know, believe it or not, anthropologically, humans are predisposed to view women as more caring and are 9 times out of 10 more likely to ask for women to care for them, the gender of the patient doesn't impact the data.”

“Oh, I can believe it.” 

You smiled at him, and he looked taken aback for a minute or two. He finished by smiling back, and you definitely found this conversation worth as much as you'd lost in tips in the last half hour. You were half tempted to invite him back to the club with you for the night, to thank him for providing you with motivation for the night ahead.  

“Um, so, if you do see anything in the future, you can call the police and here is my number,” he said, scrawling something down quickly on a piece of paper and handing it off to you. 

“Oh. Oh, um, right, number. Uh,” you said, rooting around in your purse for your own business card to hand off to him. Partly because you wanted to resolve his misunderstanding, and partly just because you wanted to see what this overly respectful man would do with it. 

“Candy Cayne,” he read, obviously looking past the body glitter that covered the cars and everything else you owned. 

“Well, my real name is Y/N, but you can't be too safe these days.” 

“Right,” he said, smiling again. 

If these were the FBI agents put on the case of making your city safer, maybe you'd invest in a good taser and some more pepper spray. 

Just in case. 

“Spencer, over here!” One of the other agents you'd already spoken to called out from a block down the street, and hastily, Spencer Reid excused himself and let you finally continue on your way to work. 

You had to convince yourself you weren't disappointed. 

Morgan’s brows were furrowed as Spencer reached him. 

“Why were you interviewing the stripper again, I already got her information when she came by me.”

“Stripper? What stripper?” 

“You gotta be kidding me.” 

Morgan looked at the younger man incredulously before turning him around with a hand on his shoulder and pointing in your direction. 

“That stripper, Spencer.” 

He couldn't help but let his eyes trail down to your ass as you quickly walled off, hips swaying perfectly, showing off your complete assets in the tight outfit. 

“She's a nurse,” he defended, even as the blood drained from his face. 

“Uh-huh, and what's her name?” 

“...Candy Cayne,” he paused for a second before turning back to Morgan with a stricken expression on his face. 

“Oh my god, she's a stripper.” 

Five hours into your shift, and about $800 richer, you found yourself swinging around the pole freely again as your regulars slowly trickled out. 

You kept on dancing, though, knowing that the morning crowd was about to get in, the night-shifters that had to wait the entire night to get off on your dancing delights. 

Truckers you expected, security guards and night watchmen, too. Even the occasional older gentleman who found it hard to sleep in the mornings, so bored by retirement, they dropped in a few times a day. 

What you weren't expecting was Spencer.

You heard the door open, the bell ringing out loudly as all the girls stopped to greet their new target. 

“Hello, baby,” one called, the others chorusing around her. 

“Oh it's free for you, sweetheart.”

“Wanna take a ride?” 

“Aren't you just the cutest.”

Spencer spotted you - and your uniform - very quickly. 

As predicted, with a little bit of water, your uniform had gone see through with the tiniest drop of water, the sweat from your ongoing workout and the body oil the matrons lathered you up in before showing off everything. 

Still, Spencer tried to keep his gaze polite as he stood awkwardly at the edge of the stage and tried to engage you in conversation. 

“Hi,” he said, shouting awkwardly over the music. 

You shot him a confused look as you ground against the bar, still enjoying the tips of the last few stragglers. You gave him a confused look as you wrapped yourself around the pole, lifting yourself up and gripping the bar between your legs, pushing your chest backwards as you tipped your head upside down. 

“Can we talk?” He asked, and you, slowly but surely, let go of the bar, ending on the floor with your legs spread wide as the few men enraptured by you wolf whistled and swore. 

Finally, Spencer's bashful gaze dropped from your face as he stared at your scantily clad cunt. 

The baby blue underwear - though you could barely call it underwear as you were barely wearing it - was most definitely not leaving enough to the imagination. Combined with the very clear view of your boobs, Spencer wasn't surprised when his IQ abandoned him, rushing to his second head to let it make mistakes. 

“I'm sorry, officer,” you said, winking at him as you crawled forward, collecting tips as you went. “If my boss sees me talking to you instead of working, I can get fired. Tell me you've got at least a twenty on you.”

He scrambled for his wallet, pulling out all the cash he had and holding out a few dollars to you as you watched him. 

He looked away again, just as you leaned down to take it, and you pouted again. 

“Come on, sir,” you said, wiggling your ass a little to keep the other men entertained while you wore down at his morals. “You have to stick it down my shirt or something. Make it believable.” 

His eyes snapped back to yours, and then immediately to your chest as you sat back on your knees and began playing with yourself, grabbing your tits and bouncing up and down as you showed off your special ‘skills.’ 

Hesitantly, he reached out a hand, and, hating how slow he was going, you met him halfway, pushing your chest into his open hand. 

Though he was apprehensive, his body seemed able to take advantage quickly, and upon depositing the cash, he let his hand trace down the curve of your breast, squeezing it a little. 

“I came to apologise-” he started, trying to remind himself to stick to the script he created for himself. 

You didn't want to stick to any script. 

“Boss, I've got a private dance!” you shouted out to the bar staff, getting a thumbs up from the manager there and a call back of a room number. 

You grabbed the rest of the cash from his hands and lifted a hand so he could help you down the stage stairs, leading him quickly to a private room and closing the door. 

“T-There’s been a mistake, I just came to apologise for my unnecessary comments earlier, and-” he paused, hands lifting up in surrender as you straddled him. 

“What are you doing?” 

“You can talk, but you paid for a dance. I thought this would be better for you, more private.”

“Oh, yes, thank you, that's very considerate.” 

You nodded and began raking your nails down the front of his shirt, loosening his tie a little as you rose on your knees and gyrated your hips. 

His gaze locked eyes with your chest, and for a moment, you worried he wasn't breathing anymore, his entire body having stilled. Then you rocked your hips down into his lap, and you realised he wasn't still but stiff. 

He was rock fucking hard. 

You grinned, and tried to pick the conversation back up with a casual tone. 

“So how is canvassing going?” 

“Hmm?” He said, unlearning. “Oh, uh. Good. We have a few leads we're going to investigate in the morning.” 

“It is the morning, officer.” 

He nodded and gulped, but his gaze had rested gently against your bare skin again. 

You decided to treat him. 

Standing back up, you grabbed the room control and queued up your favorite track to dance with. The private sances were usually boring, a constant reminding of ‘don't touch the dancers’ dropping from your lips as you half-heartedly rocked back and forth. 

Unsurprisingly, though, you actually wanted this man to touch you. 

Spencer willed his brain to quiet, though as it had taken up residence in his pants, he doubted it could hear any of his requests. 

The opening lines of "I Put a Spell on You" by Annie Lennox played on the quiet room speakers, and you watched his hands clench into his pants. 

You took a step forward, pushing your arms up as you swung your hips left and right. 

“You said something about an apology earlier, right?” 

I put a spell on you. Because you're mine.

“Yes,” he said, restrained to monosyllabic answers as your hands trailed down to your legs, catching the hem of your dress and pulling it up. 

You revelled in the way his eyes widened, the way the veins in his hands popped as he grasped himself harder, the hitch in his breathing. 

You pulled the offending garment up and danced it off your body until you were stood in just panties and stilettos. 

Without flashing him even a hint of your breasts, though, you turned and sat yourself on his lap. 

“W-We could've just talked here, right? You don't have to do this if you don't want to.”

“I know,” you said, grabbing his hands and covering your chest with them. 

“But you were so earnest earlier, I felt a bit bad too. Let's call this even.”

You didn't get an answer from him, but his hands did start touching you, and you couldn't help but feel as though you'd won anyway. 

You better stop the things that you do.

Taking your nipples between his fingers, he squeezed, and your ass pushed down into his cock, back arching as you began rubbing against his legs. You repositioned, letting your knees fall either some of his leg, leaning forward to balance yourself against his knee as you rocked your core into his leg. 

“So, what's your name, officer.”

“Spencer-” he sighed, voice warm in your ear as he leaned closer, trying to hook his head over your shoulder to watch the rest of your body writhe. 

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“Oh, how fancy, a Doctor. I've never had a doctor before,” you said, straightening and grabbing his hands again. 

“And what a naughty little nurse I've been,” you giggled. 

I tell you, I ain't lyin’.

“I'm not that kind of doctor,” he said, as your hands guided his to your cunt, giving him permission to enter your underwear. 

“And as we've established, I'm not that kind of nurse. But I don't mind.”

He muttered to himself for a second before beginning to pay sweet attention to your clit. As bashful, and shy, and overall clumsy he had seemed outside, he absolutely had the theory of pleasure down to a T. 

The pads of his fingers were rough against your clit, pushing your pleasure buttons roughly as you soaked his pants. 

“That's it, Doctor, that's where the ache was.”

He caught on quickly and kept up his ministrations as you moaned in his lap. 

“Ah, fuck. M-Maybe some medicine would help.me Doctor. A nice big injection.” 

You stood and almost threw a tantrum at the loss of contact, but you returned yourself to his lap quickly. 

He unbuttoned his pants as he stood, and his cock was released and waiting for you when you returned again. 

Before you could get to it, though, his face buried itself in your chest. 

You moaned at the contact, his tongue swirling around your already painfully sensitive nipples. You humped his leg wantonly, giving up the act and becoming the whore he likely thought you were. It was all too much for you, his hot stare, his surprisingly deft fingers. And then he gently bit your nipple, and your cunt clenched around nothing as you twitched and you came. 

“Fuck, cock. Now!” You demanded, as the after waves of your orgasm still rolled through you. You grabbed a condom from the complementary basket nearby and rolled it onto his tip expertly before sinking yourself down on him. 

“D-D you feel better now?” He asked, hands gripping the fat of your thighs as tightly as he'd gripped his pants earlier. 

“Yes, Doctor Reid!” you said, your bounces sloppy as you stretched yourself around his dick. 

He wasn't overly long or ridiculously thick. It was like you'd stumbled into the Goldilock fairy tale, because you'd found the cock that fit you just right. 

Your brain short-circuited after your all too fast orgasm, and you moaned pathetically, almost grumpily as you failed to keep up the stamina. 

You know better, Daddy. I can't stand it ‘cause you put me down.

As if noticing your distress, Spencer stood slightly, using a nearby table to balance out your additional weight, and finally lowered you onto it. You'd taken no notice of it in the past, but you now thanked the heaven that the table was sturdy and roughly cock height, as he began thrusting into you with just the right speed. 

The clock struck six as he licked his fingers again and played with your clit once again, and with a sharp jerk of your hips, your cunt tightened around him and began milking his cock. 

He came with a groan, though admittedly one quieter than your own. 

I put a spell on you.

With a wet pop, his cock exited you, and he quickly went to work discarding the used condom. You tried to sit up quickly, and were surprised you could manage even that much, as you shimmied back into your wet dress. 

“Apology accepted,” you said, as he turned back to you, put together once again. 

You turned to leave, but he caught your waist and spun you back around to him. His lips were on yours in a second. 

His tongue was hot and thick as it opened your mouth, exploring every inch as he forced you to submit once more. When you pulled back, his hand lightly grazed up the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah. You too. Your apology.”

You couldn't help but let out a giggle as he walked you back toward the door, almost pinning you there for a round two. 

“You really thought I was a nurse?”

“It was dark.”

You gave him another peck on the cheek and pulled away, gaining the respectable distance from your customer aa you re-emerged from the private room. 

“I get off at 7,” you whispered yo him finally, before making your way back to the bar. 

Your doctor sat himself down and waited for the clock to strike 7. 

[djarincore]

i picture you when you are all alone

TAGS: smut, just a man thinkin' about his lovely girlfriend, unedited I'm tired, minors I'm begging you DNI, WC: 595

A/N: thank you to sleep token for fueling me. I think about this line and song too much <333

PART 2

To say Simon thought about you often when he was away would be an understatement—he thought of you always. 

He thought of the sweet, sweet girl—his girl—who was waiting for him to come home. Who would take him in with open arms. The girl who loved him so deeply, despite how fucked up and flawed he was. 

And when he closed his eyes at night—in a tiny bunk, bruised and battered, thousands of miles away from home—he thought of you, bare and splayed out on your shared bed. So perfect and all his. 

You'd be needy, desperate. It's been too many nights alone, without his cock filling you properly. Your fingers would dance over the hem of your panties, thighs rubbing together as you debated on whether or not to touch yourself. It wouldn't be the same, of course. Nothing would satisfy you the way Simon could. 

You'd pull your lower lip between your teeth and glance to his side of the bed. It's cold and empty; his scent still lingers on the pillow. You'd take the pillow in your arms and inhale deeply, gripping the cool fabric, pretending it was his shirt. You'd pretend the soft cushion was hard muscle beneath your fingertips. 

One hand would slip into your panties. When your finger brushes against your clit, you whimper. It really was too long since you last felt him. You miss his calloused hands, roughly tracing your figure. 

If he were there, he'd start at your neck, smirking at the way you swallow when his thumb traces your throat. Then, he'd path his way down your breast, playing with your nipples until you were whining for something more. He'd move on soon, following the curves of your body, until finally ending on your cunt. 

Your fingers would work pathetically, trying to replicate his movements, but even they aren't enough. You would try slipping one finger into your dripping pussy, then two, pushing your fingers slowly and working towards a climax. 

Two of your fingers don't work, though. They're not as thick or long as his. They don't reach in you the same way. Your fingers can't press that spongy spot inside you that makes your toes curl and back arch. 

Your fingers grip his pillow in frustration and your legs spread wider. Another, you think. And a third finger forces its way into your tight cunt. Still, nowhere near what he could do for you. 

You'd stay like that—riding your own fingers, wishing it were him—until you met the crest of your pleasure. Your mouth would drop open as your breath picked up. Your cunt would pulse around your fingers, greedily trying to suck them back in. And you'd come with his name on your lips. 

He thought of you in bed, panting. The rise and fall of your chest. Your fingers, covered in your release, slip from your panties. 

He let out a breath. God, he wanted to taste you. He wished it was him in that bed with you—his fingers, his cock, all bringing you over the edge over and over again. 

When his burner phone began to ring in his pocket, a knowing smirk crossed his face. When he dug the phone out and answered, without having to look at the caller ID, it was you on the other end. 

“Simon?” Your voice was quiet, almost breathless. It was early where you were. 

“Yes, love?”

He could hear you shift and wet your lips. “I had a dream about you…”

“Really?” He chuckled, “Because I was just thinkin’ about you too.”

[angelsfat3]

ꮩ, 狂信者。⸻[𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘯...]

Summary: Your face is unique, your voice and your way of behaving is so special, maybe that's why he fell in love. But you're just his fan.

C/w: Ni-ki thought you were a girl (short reader), small mention of anxiety, everything happens very quickly. ㅤ－ㅤTw: Few curses, anxiety attack.

Genre: fluff, kinda suggestive, romance, two points of view.

A/N: Apart from the fact that I struggled to put Japanese and Korean words into romaji, I decided to write this story with Stuck in the Middle as background song, and somehow I feel that the whole writing feels like read a kdrama(This is so embarrassing and trashy (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠))

your point of view.

The plane had finally landed at Incheon International Airport, marking the end of a long and tiring journey from Japan. You, with your backpack hanging from one shoulder and your heart beating with a mix of excitement and nervousness—because after months of insisting to your mother, she granted your wish to meet your favorite group—You decided that walking to your hotel would be a good way to familiarize yourself with the new surroundings and also to take advantage of taking photographs.

With the afternoon sun bathing the unknown streets, you began your journey trusting in the route marked by your phone, and your incipient knowledge of Korean.

As you progressed, the roads became narrower and the signs more confusing. The feeling of being lost began to slowly invade you, but your determination combined with stubbornness wanted to make you find the building through the image that was on Google...

As you turned a corner, you realized that you were just walking in circles, as the convenience stores and small restaurants were the same as those "three streets back."

The afternoon turned into twilight, and the warm lights of the lanterns began to come on, casting shadows that danced across the cobblestones.

The fear that you had been avoiding so much was present when a group of people passed by you and they only laughed. Your bad thoughts appeared with them, making you believe that maybe they were laughing at you.

Feeling more and more disoriented and exhausted, you decided to take a break and go into one of those stores just to buy a bottle of water and an onigiri. Five minutes passed just in you doing calculations to give the correct bill to the cashier.

As you left the premises you decided to start eating a little, trying to calm your mind and regain your composure. You checked the address on your phone again, but everything seemed just as confusing, the building was supposed to be a block away.

While you were looking for where to throw the plastic from the onigiri, from afar you could see a boy with a cap and a mask leaving a restaurant just a couple of meters from you, you thought it was destiny who gave you the opportunity to go to him and ask him. What can you lose? The dignity.

"E-excuse me!... You could- uh..." Your embarrassing attempt to ask him for help seemed to have scared him a little, because when he turned to look at you, he just made an "x" with his arms and gently shook his head.

Seconds later another boy came out of the restaurant, apparently he was with the person you had scared, so now you had two, quite tall men, glaring at you.

"Uh... Hotel?" Nerves took over you again, causing you to show them the image of the building you are looking for, pointing out the name of the place. When you didn't get a response you only felt a slight desire to cry, you felt that the last opportunity to have a comfortable place to sleep and to be able to see the people you admired.

Your hands began to shake and your heart accelerated after a few seconds because of how the boys looked around, not really knowing what to say to you.

"Uzai..." You turned off your phone as soon as you could and gave a small bow. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry for making you lose-...How do you say Jikan in Korean?" You whispered the last sentence. "Ah!, I'm sorry to waste your time..."

"You speak Japanese?" Suddenly, a deep voice interrupted your thoughts. “Do you need help with something?” You looked up slightly, meeting the eyes of the boy who had just come out. He apparently noticed your concern, so he would quickly try to strike up a quick conversation.

"Yeah.. I'm a little lost," you admitted, feeling a bit of relief at finally finding someone willing to help. "I'm looking for this hotel," you said, showing the address on your phone.

He simply nodded, understanding your situation. "Oh, I know that place, it used to be above the center of Seoul, but they changed it to the Gangnam area. It's not too far from here. Do you want us to accompany you?” He asked adjusting his cap.

“I like the idea! But... Will your friend agree?” You responded, tilting your head a little, noticing the brunette in the back with his gaze focused on his phone.

“He'll be fine, come on, I'll take you—we'll take you to the hotel, before it gets too late,” he responded with a smile from under the fabric.

You thanked him for his kindness and together they began to walk, eventually the other boy followed behind them. The conversation flowed easily, and you discovered that he was also a fan of the same group. The coincidence made you feel more comfortable and less alone along the way.

From the way you both laughed or made very clumsy jokes, people around you could deduce that you were lifelong friends, when the reality is that you had been talking for 15 minutes since he offered to take you. During some moments there were also small friction between your hand and his or even when you caught him staring at you, either in the eyes or at your lips.

As you two walked, you realized that you had missed a small alley that connected directly to the main street where your hotel was located.

"Well... I think this is the end, pretty girl" he commented, pausing in his walk, making you see the large building.

Finally, you arrived at the hotel just as the sky turned completely dark. When you said goodbye to your new friend, a feeling of sadness flooded your body for a few seconds, it was a shame that the only person who helped you did not have a phone number and continue to know each other, however you thanked him deeply for his help.

He wished you a good stay and reminded you to enjoy every moment of your trip.

As you were about to enter through the revolving door, turning around just to look at him and say, "I'm a boy," you let out a laugh as you saw his eyes widen.

"Oh yeah? Oh.. well, never mind. It was nice meeting you, pretty boy." He finished saying goodbye to you with his hand moving from side to side. You quickly went into the hotel with your face all red from the nickname he had given you.

Entering your room, you dropped your backpack and collapsed on the bed, feeling a mix of relief and satisfaction. Despite the setback, you had managed to get there and, in the process, you had made a new friend. With a smile on your face, you prepared to rest, knowing that tomorrow you would be face to face with your idols.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

“So.. Was she really cute or were you just doing this out of kindness?” a male voice asked.

“Cute.. he was cute.” The taller boy responded, with his head down as he continued walking towards a company, next to his friend.

"He?! Holy shit, Ni-ki... You're in serious trouble if anyone else finds out.” Heeseung commented.

“I know, but I doubt they will ever know, for my bad or good luck, I only spoke with him for a couple of minutes,” He paused while he removed his mask and cap once inside the facility. "His voice... his eyes, everything about him was so cute, did you see how small he looked next to me... ssibal" he whisper.

“Yes, I know how he looked like, I was also going with you two, in case you forgot,” Heeseung said with a slight expression of annoyance, this because of the dramatic way in which Ni-ki gently pressed his forehead with his hand. “It's not the end of the world either, you know? Maybe you will meet him by chance another day and—”

“Or perhaps I will never see him again and I will die without even knowing his name,” Ni-ki commented.

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The sun was just beginning to rise when, still with the excitement of the previous day throbbing in your chest, you woke up to the insistent sound of the alarm. Today was the day you would finally get to see the boys you've admired for a while face to face, and the excitement was mixed with a touch of nervousness.

A new day began normally, although given the fact that it was your first time in another country and alone, you felt like you were in a dream movie or drama. Clouds adorned the sky, which was as blue as the sea. When you jumped up just to open the window, your entire room lit up.

After a quick breakfast and a mental review of what you planned to tell them, you left for the event venue. The city was alive at that time of the morning, but you only had one thing on your mind: fansing.

And, although you didn't want to admit it, you also thought about the boy you had met the day before, the one who had turned you red and tomato for the simple fact of calling you "pretty boy."

You kept thinking about the way in which on the short journey from that place to your hotel, he always tried to make you smile or talk about your tastes. His deep voice, his height, the way he tried to make you feel safe and although it was difficult to see his face, his eyes were so pretty. A dark brown adorned on the outside by her long, drooping eyelashes... It was so cute.

You left the hotel completely ready, a small bag where you carried small gifts for each member, as well as the most recent album so they could sign it.

Upon arriving at the venue, the energy in the atmosphere was palpable. The lights, the preparations, the murmur of the people... Everything contributed to a crescendo of anticipation. You tried to stay focused as you waved at a few girls before you.

Ni-ki's pov.

The day had started early for him, as usual. The alarms sounded in sync with the first ray of sunlight, calling all members of the group to prepare for the day's event. With automatic movements, he headed to the bathroom, washing his face and brushing his teeth as he tried to clear away the drowsiness.

He carefully chose his outfit, casual but in the iconic colors of his comeback, adding the finishing touch with a pair of accessories he knew fans would love.

Although fansings turned out to be somewhat exhausting, there was something about this particular one that filled him with an inexplicable excitement. Maybe it was the fact that they had spent weeks in the studio, or maybe it was the simple pleasure of seeing their fans again.

As he got ready, his thoughts returned to the boy he had met the day before. The pretty boy, as he had called him in a moment of spontaneity, continued to haunt his mind. He remembered how his eyes sparkled when he talked about his passions, the way they became more slanted when he laughed at some bad joke, how his smile seemed to light up the surroundings, and how his initial nervousness dissipated as they talked.

Upon arriving at the event venue, feelings of nervousness and excitement were mixed. The routine of getting ready, arranging some things with the staff, and going over the day's agenda was carried out with precision, but his thoughts kept wandering to that unexpected meeting. He wondered if he would see him again one day, if fate would allow them to cross paths again.

With each passing minute, the anticipation grew. The team gave them the final instructions while preparations progressed around them. The lights were shining brightly, the stage was set, and the fans' enthusiastic screams echoed in their ears, creating an electrifying atmosphere. It was all part of the magic of the moment.

When Ni-ki finally took the stage, he focused on doing his best, trying to connect with every fan who had come to see him, shaking hands, praising fans' perfumes or accessories, etc.

And then, as he waited for the next fan, in the crowd, as he watched some girls, waving at them, his eyes met a familiar look.

He couldn't believe it: the pretty boy was there, approaching him, with a small bag in hand and a nervous but radiant smile. In that instant, all the noise, lights, and hubbub seemed to fade away, leaving only the memory of those brown eyes and the surprise of an unexpected connection in the midst of chaos.

Ni-ki felt his heart speed up, and a warm feeling of happiness enveloped him, unable to hide a smile from ear to ear.

The boy approached timidly, not really knowing how to start the conversation. Ni-ki, still shocked by the sight, was the first to speak.

"Hello!" Ni-ki said with a smile, trying to hide his own surprise. "Is this your first time here?"

The boy smiled back, although clearly nervous. “Um... Actually, yes,” the boy responded, almost whispering. “I…brought this for you” He extended the bag towards him, making the taller boy take a look inside.

Ni-ki carefully took the bag and looked inside better, finding a small letter and some candys. He looked up and saw that the boy was watching him carefully, waiting for his reaction.

“This is... Thank you very much, this is very nice,” he responded, letting out a soft laugh, feeling a pleasant warmth in his chest. "What's your name?" He asked.

The shorter boy blushed, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting Ni-ki's eyes again. “My name is [...]” he responded as he watched his Idol take his hand out of the corner of his eye, causing his heart to beat rapidly.

Ni-ki felt a mixture of shame and tenderness. He didn't want to pressure him, knowing that his Korean wasn't the best, so he decided to move forward gently.

“Oh! Are you japanese? You would have told me before…” exclaimed the tallest one, regulating his voice so that only the one in front of him could hear him. "I'm glad you have come. You are having fun?"

The boy nodded, clearly relieved by the change of topic and language. "Yes, a lot. It's my first time at a fansing, and it's... amazing. I can't believe I'm here, talking to you, holding your hand...”

“Well, believe me, I'm very glad you came,” Ni-ki commented, feeling a special connection in that moment. However, unfortunately time couldn't stop just so the two of you could continue talking, so you continued at the same pace as always, one minute and goodbye. “I hope you enjoy the rest of the event. And thanks again for the gift. It means a lot to me."

You were both silent for a moment, just smiling, staring at each other. The rest of the minute they spent talking about basic things: tastes, music, clothes and sometimes about the album.

Finally, the boy said bye with a soft "goodbye", and Ni-ki watched him approach the next member, his heart still pounding.

When the event was over and Ni-ki had a moment to reflect, he realized that that brief encounter had left a deep mark on him. The unexpected connection, the mix of shame and love, all contributed to an experience he would cherish for a long time.

"So... that boy turned out to be our fan" Heeseung said, approaching the minor, gently squeezing his shoulder in a way to comfort him.

“No, he's just my fan.” He smiled, caressing the letter you had previously given him.

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메모 ! 📌ㅤ⸻ㅤ Let's avoid the fact that I put Ronaldo in the Lore and let's avoid that I also made everything very cliché. 😴

ㅤㅤ아이디어 !ㅤ⸻ㅤI'm very short of ideas lately, so feel free to ㅤㅤㅤ leave me any requests! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

ㅤㅤ All credits to @angelsfat3 / @foschiamara

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[msbigredmachine]

Checkmate - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

The new Smackdown GM reminds the Tribal Chief who’s boss, in more ways than one. The aftermath of the highly entertaining WrestleMania 40 Press Conference.

Pairing: Roman Reigns/OC

Word Count: 5.9k

Warning: Smut

Click here if you want to be on my tag list. If I’ve forgotten anyone please let me know so I can add you.

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Answer your fuckin phone.

She's been expecting his text message, to add to the half-dozen missed calls he's already deluged her phone with. His WrestleMania plans were thrown into disarray tonight and for some reason he thinks she has something to do with it.

Too bad she doesn't give a fuck what he thinks.

I'm calling you one more time. You better pick up.

So bossy. Always has been. But he knows damn well who the boss really is. When her phone springs to life again with his beautiful face snarling at her through the screen, she rolls onto her back with a heavy sigh, smooths down her oversized t-shirt and presses the green button, waiting to hear his deep voice on the other end of the line.

"What the fuck, Joy!"

Damn. Even when he's pissed, he sounds sexy as hell; it's the same menacing timbre he adopts when he's folding her up and turning her out. The memory makes her hot between her thighs.

"Reigns." Her voice is calm and steady despite the thumps of her heart, calling out to him even when she doesn't want it to.

"Why was Cody there tonight? Hmm?" he demands, his temper simmering beneath his words. "I coulda sworn he agreed to step aside for Dwayne. Why he change his mind? Did you have something to do with it? What'chu say to him, huh?"

She extends her left hand to inspect her ombre-colored acrylic nails. "Calm your tits. I don't control Cody's actions, I'm Smackdown's GM, not Raw's. He won the Rumble and he has the right to choose who he wants."

"Don't patronize me, Joy! Rock and I were a done deal!"

"You sound tense, Reigns. Paranoid, even," she smirks, "Worried you can't beat the American Nightmare a second time? Besides, you heard the fans...they wanna see you and him-"

"Bullshit!" he cuts her off. "This wasn't about no fans. You wanted this and I know why. You saw the pictures of me and Venita over Christmas and you been in your feelings ever since."

It's a predictable, childish response, and though there's some truth to it, she dismisses its immature delivery. "What you do with your bitch is your business. You are marrying her, after all," she says coolly, hearing him bristle at the other end.

"See? We ain't had a civil conversation since those photos got out. I know exactly how you feel about her, so tell me I'm lying."

"Don't ever question my ability to separate business from pleasure. You are walking proof of that," Joy warns him. "My problem is with you questioning my authority, with your silly little threats and your temper tantrums. You did it leading up to the Rumble and I'll be damned if I let it happen again. In case you forgot, I run Smackdown now. You work for me. The Mania match is scheduled, so your ass better show up in Philly, you understand me?"

A long, tense moment crawls by.

"Are you done?" he says, sounding bored.

"No. Whatchu gon' do about it?" Joy challenges.

"You looked hot as fuck in that dress tonight."

She rolls her eyes. Of course he deflects. But it's not going to work this time. She wants him to feel as frustrated as she has been over the last couple of months. "Ain't your fiancée over there with you?" she retorts, her tone clipped and snarky.

"She's in the Hamptons. And even if she was here, that ain't never stopped us anyways," he calls her out.

"Whatever." As flippant as she's tried to be about it, she is growing tired of the same old song and dance between her and Roman. She's allowed him to juggle her and Venita, and she blames herself for not leaving him alone when he chose to stay with her. Perfect, pretty little naive Venita. The IG influencer extraordinaire whose only two cares in life are her follower count and the picture-perfect aesthetics of the 'Roman & Venita' brand.

Whatever helps her sleep at night, I guess.

Joy had wondered just how perfect they really were the first time she saw the couple backstage in the Thunderdome, with Venita looking bored as hell the entire time she was there. It was clear that she had no interest in Roman's world, and Joy told him just that. Certain she would be fired on her first day for opening her big mouth, he had merely laughed and agreed, and it was then she found out she was his producer for the upcoming Bloodline saga. Onscreen, they created magic with the now legendary Tribal Chief storyline, but the magic they soon began making behind the scenes and between the sheets was even better and way too hot for TV.

She's never had time to be ashamed of inserting herself in someone else's relationship, mainly because her career has accelerated to the top of WWE's creative hierarchy. Plus, she's not about to give up such great sex, not with a stroke game that superb and a libido as high as her ambitions. Sometimes she wishes she doesn't have to share him, but she accepts that she can't have it all. After all, she already lords over the A-show as Smackdown's General Manager, meaning she is virtually unstoppable now, with money, power, and most importantly, the balls of the biggest star in the industry in the palm of her hand. Literally.

But he's pissing her off right now.

"Look, I want us to talk. Come see me." He's turned on the charm but Joy refuses to fall for it.

"What I want is an apology for your constant disrespect ever since I became GM," she replies, "I told you; I don't give a damn that we're fucking. Do not make an enemy out of me, Roman."

The Tribal Chief sighs heavily. "Look. You're right. Let me make it up to you. Come to my room so we can talk things out."

"No. You just want pussy."

"That too," he snickers.

Joy bites her lip as she idly circles her middle and ring finger over her pussy lips. She had no prior plans to touch herself, but listening to his deep, haughty voice has sparked a throbbing between her thighs that needs urgent attention. "Right. Well, I don't feel like leaving my room. This bed is way too comfy," she emphasizes.

"Mine is comfier. Are you alone?" he asks.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Woman, you better not be givin' my pussy to nobody else," he growls, making her laugh.

"You're hilarious. My pussy is mine and mine alone, no matter how good you beat it and eat it," she reminds him, her smile widening as she hears him taking deep breaths, trying to compose himself.

"I see that you get off on testing my patience. Does that turn you on, baby girl? Hmm? Does it make that pussy wet? I bet you wet right now." His voice drops an entire octave at that last part, and she bites her lip to keep from moaning when her slick honey pools around her fingers.

"I might be," she gasps.

"Then bring your ass over here and let me take care of it."

Joy huffs, determined to resist him for as long as she can. "I can take care of myself, Reigns. Matter of fact, I'm doing just that as we speak..."

"Aww, babe, don't be touchin' on my pussy without me," he grumbles. His frustration makes her grin in triumph. She holds all the cards and she's enjoying listening to him squirm.

"I wanna see you, beautiful. We ain't been together in so long. I miss you," Roman continues.

"Is that right?"

"Uh huh. Don't you miss me, Joy? Don't you miss this dick? It definitely misses you. Listen..."

The slippery, sticky sound that follows his words is unmistakable, and her heart pounds in her chest at his soft groan. The image of him lying in his bed, probably naked, jerking off to her, makes her stomach flip and her pussy spasm beneath her fingers. The tension crackles over the phone, simmering with the same intensity as though he were right there in person.

"Hear that, baby? That's how bad I need you. Come over." His silky-smooth whisper finally loosens the last thread of control she has held onto tightly up to this point. She knows that ultimately, she won't deny him...she never does because she can't, and he knows that.

"Gimme ten minutes," she relents.

"Make it five."

"I said, ten. Text me your room number." Cutting the call before he can respond, she leaves her bed and searches for a couple of accessories to wear. After a quick check in the mirror, she picks up her phone and sees he's already sent her his room number. The thought of what is about to transpire hastens her flight out of the room, the dead of night no match for her rapidly burning need for him. She has since accepted that she will always need him, too.

His door swings open seconds after she knocks, and a surprised yelp escapes her when he yanks her inside and tugs her flush against him. He is barefoot, in gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, and shirtless to show off the majesty of his massive, inked chest. Joy meets his loaded stare head-on as he drinks in her own appearance. She is in one of his old Nike hoodies that she swiped from him and never gave back, with the open zipper in the middle showing the swell of her breasts underneath. Long pastel-pink stockings run up to her brown thighs with gray Crocs on her feet. As his eyes crawl hungrily up and down her frame, her body thrums with realization at just how hard he is, his sizable erection poking her lower belly. Despite their back-and-forth, it's no mistake that she intoxicates him, and that power thrills her.

"Like what you see, champ?" she asks, staring him down for his response.

Roman's moan is ragged as he clamps his huge paw around her throat and covers her mouth with his, and she instantly melts in his arms, her nerves alight from his touch. She is swept up in the softness of his lips, the sweetness of his taste that contrasts erotically with his aggressiveness and the eager, hungry flicking of their tongues as the kiss heats up. He feels wonderfully warm and smells incredible like he always does.

Reluctantly, his mouth retreats from hers and he tucks his face in the hollow of her neck. He nuzzles his cheek against her skin and inhales the fragrance he's missed so much, her hushed moan caressing the depths of his senses.

"You a vindictive little bitch, you know that?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss to her throat.

"Only when I wanna be," she hums, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You musta loved watching me lose my cool tonight," he adds, "I saw the look in your eyes on that stage when I got into it with those two bums. That shit turned you on. Your nipples were hard through your dress. And I'm sure that pussy was soaked."

Truth be told, seeing his cool calm composure collapse, with his long hair flying and cocky countenance as he talked shit to Cody and Seth, made her so wet she had to run into a restroom stall to take off her panties, forcing her to go commando for the rest of the night. She'll never admit it though; she never likes to give him the upper hand. "How do you know?" she challenges.

"Cuz I know you. I know everything about your body, sweetheart," Roman brags, "I know what you like, and I know you love testing me cuz it makes me wanna fuck the attitude outta you."

"So what are you waiting for?" She licks her glossy lips, full and pouting, goading him with her bedroom eyes. But the Tribal Chief can feel her body trembling, betraying her bravado. This time he has the upper hand and he plans to exploit it.

He pulls her hoodie over her head and his eyes immediately drop to the thin beaded belly chain adorning her slender waist, accentuating her delicious curves. Desire gleams in his brown irises at the sight of her bare breasts, the fleshy mounds popping out at him, her nipples hard and aching for his touch. "Fuck, you're sexy," he murmurs. He massages each one then leans down to lick and suck on them, his tongue and hands working together to pleasure her.

"Ooh, that feels good," she moans, placing her hair behind her ear to get a good look at him feasting on her nipples. Ever the multitasker, he grabs her white lace thong at the hem, yanking impatiently until it rips from her body. Joy bursts out laughing at his savagery. "I knew you was gon' fuck up my panties," she jokes.

"I replace 'em, don't I?" He abandons her breasts and kisses her again, this time sliding both hands down to her round backside and lifting her up to press her against the wall. The friction of their bare chests pressed together, nipples grazing, her legs wrapping around his waist and bringing them even closer, builds the desire. He grinds his throbbing hardness against the open heat between her thighs, and she gets him back by reaching inside his sweatpants and grabbing his dick, stroking the turgid flesh as it jumps in her grasp. "Mmm, baby you're so hard. Put it in me," she orders.

"Not yet," he cuts her off, his huge biceps flexing as he carries her across the lavish suite. "Come over here, you little slut. Come suck my dick in front of this great view of the Strip."

Next to the expansive window is an L-shaped sofa large enough for a good trip to Pound Town. As he takes off his pants, Joy can't stop herself from drooling at his towering form. Six foot three, bronzed Adonis with chocolate eyes, luscious hair, massive and muscled and all man, with a long, hefty cock pulsing between those powerful thighs. He looks like a demigod in all his glory, and she venerates at the altar of his beauty.

Roman settles himself at the other end of the sofa and eyes her down with a smug smirk. Tucking his hands behind his head, he spreads his legs. "Crawl to me," he commands, his smirk widening when she advances towards him on all fours. Joy is a work of art, with nicely sized titties, round hips, thick, mouth-watering thighs and ass and that fat pussy he dreams about at least once a day. Every part of her is real and silky soft to the touch. It's been years since he first tasted her, and he is still drunk off it. She is a potent drug he can't wean himself off of, and frankly, he doesn't want to. He loves Venita, but for all her prowess in bed, she does not possess a fraction of the wild thrill that encapsulates the woman before him. He wants Joy, needs her like he needs to breathe, and he always will. He will seek his fiancée's forgiveness when that day comes.

Joy slowly slithers up the length of his body, ignoring his erection for now as she straddles him and plants a long, wet kiss on his mouth, the sound of their lips meeting and parting filling the suite. Her hands caress the tight muscles of his body, having memorized all the spots that make his breath quicken and his pulse spike. He puts his hands on her hips, but she seizes them and pins them above his head without breaking stride, laughing when he moans out with frustration. She catches his tongue as it slides into her mouth, and she proceeds to suck on it, her head bobbing like she is sucking his dick. Saliva quickly gathers around their joined mouths as she feasts on only his tongue. It's the messiest, sloppiest, hottest kiss they've ever shared, and the tension is reaching fever pitch as a result.

"You want me to suck your dick like this, baby?" Joy asks. When Roman nods, she tugs his lower lip between her teeth. "Say it," she orders, her fingers digging into his wrists. Her hips are rolling too, moving in a seductive, serpentine dance that short circuits every fiber of his being. He can't move even if he wants to; his senses are pinned down to the bed along with his body. The Tribal Chief is helpless, forced to endure the sweetest agony, with the head of his dick grazing her wet slit and driving him insane. An uncharacteristic whimper deserts his lips as his blood pumps with agitation.

"Yes," he responds breathlessly.

"What's the magic word?" Joy presses. The mocking smirk gracing her pretty features should infuriate him, but it only arouses him instead.

"Please," he concedes, knowing full well that she will drag out the torture until he succumbs. With a triumphant smile and one more intoxicating kiss, she finally takes pity on him and makes the descent down his heaving body, soothing his butterscotch skin with soft kisses. As she nears his groin, his eyes squeeze shut, and he takes deep breaths to remain focused.

"You think you're in control, toying with two women's lives." Joy shakes her head. "Hell no. I'm in control, Roman. I own you. You're mine to do with however I want. And you know the best part?"

She closes her mouth over the tip of him, giving it a gentle suckle before driving home her point. "Deep down, you love that shit."

Roman merely grins. The power has shifted back in his possession and she doesn't even know it. He shows her when he strikes with lightning speed, grabbing her and twisting her around so her legs are on either side of his head. Stunned, Joy grabs his thighs to steady herself, as he's already grabbing handfuls of her ass while using his tongue to part her lower lips. Her body jerks from the warm fat wetness of his tongue lashing around her sensitive crevices, softening her up with his saliva. Heady with desire, she just lays there with his dick in her hand, too overwhelmed to do anything else but moan with pleasure.

A sudden, stinging smack on her left ass cheek jolts her back to earth.

"You gon' suck me off or what?" Roman demands impatiently before refocusing on his own task.

Regaining her senses, her mouth engulfs his length, her head bobbing with her wrist twisting around the base. She cups his balls and rolls them in her other hand, making him groan wantonly. Her mouth is warm and her pouty lips are tight around him, sliding up and down with her tongue trailing saliva along his hard flesh. He retaliates by spreading her pussy open and holding her down on him, sucking and licking her folds with rapid strokes and enjoying her sexy throaty sounds that mingle with the sloppy slurps of his mouth on her. The increased pressure on her sensitive pussy has her moaning and squirming against his face, which in turn floods his tongue with her taste. His appreciative groans while licking her in rhythm with her rolling hips sends shivers down her spine.

Mustering all the strength she possesses, Joy frees herself from his clutches and crawls back down his body, her juices smearing a slick trail along his torso as she guides his length inside her with impressive quickness. She moans out loud as he fills her, her head tipping forwards as his big palms paw at the supple flesh of her backside. Roman groans at the wetness that welcomes his dick as it disappears into the warm canal of her pussy. "Yeah, fuck me good, baby girl," he growls, slapping her ass in encouragement.

Holding onto his ankles, she rocks up and down his erection, winding her hips with each drop down to take him as deep as she can. His husky moans and his tight grip on her waist empower her. Joy seizes every chance she can to turn him into putty in her hands. Because the motherfucker never likes to relinquish control, always determined to break her down into submission; whether it's with his God-gifted tongue, or his huge hands choking her, or with that big ol' dick, fucking her against the wall of her office, bending her over the table in his locker room at TV, or making her ride him in the bowels of his private jet. It's fun taking control from him and showing him who's boss, on the job and especially outside of it.

"You love it when I ride this big dick dontcha? Got you deep in this pussy just the way you like it," she purrs haughtily, upping the ante by reaching down to grip his cock.

The Tribal Chief realizes she's on demon time to be stroking his dick while riding him. She looks so sexy on top of him, in them pretty waist beads and stockings. Her thick hips roll back lavishly, her even thicker ass presses down on his pelvis, grinding and twisting and nudging him all the way up in her creamy pussy. Damn. He loves the way she fucks him. Baby girl has mad skills and a juicy pussy, and he is glad to be the one she uses them on. "Go faster, baby. Bounce on my dick," he cajoles, massaging her ass cheeks and groaning softly when she obeys, "Uh-huh, just like that, babe, unnnh..."

She can almost see the look of pleasure on his face. She can definitely hear him as he tugs at the soft flesh of her butt, lost to the depths of her warm wetness, in the erotic sounds of their sex noises and their slapping skin filling the big room as she bounces on his dick. Another moan escapes her, her head tilting back as he angles his hips to make his dick reach that oh-so-sweet spot inside her. He smacks her ass again, earning yet another whimper from her lips as her juices trickle down his length down to his balls. Her thighs are starting to burn from her efforts, but she can't stop, not when she's so close...

"Uhhhn baby, I'm comin'," she gasps, leaning back to rest her hands on his chest as she gyrates her ass on him. Roman's breathing is as heavy as hers, his fingers digging into her hips to steer her movements. The sensations are overwhelming as her walls contract around him, her pussy moistening as she leans forward again and rides him even harder. Seconds later, a flooding orgasm bursts inside her with such power that it wracks her entire body with tremors. Through the thick fog of numbing pleasure, she hears Roman's surprised grunt as her cum leaks all over his groin area.

"Damn baby, you nuttin' all over me. I knew you been needin' this dick," he taunts her.

Truth be told, she wasn't expecting to come this hard, but fuck it always feels so good when she does. "Oh my god," her voice trembles, her hand clutching the headrest to keep from collapsing in a heap.

Roman spanks her again. "I ain't tell you to stop. Keep goin'..."

"Hol' up, you got me shakin' so much," Joy groans, her thighs still quivering. He is still deep inside her, his dick throbbing impatiently inside the warmth of her tight walls.

"If I take this shit over, you won't be able to walk in the morning, that's a promise," he threatens.

"Then quit talkin' and do that shit," she bites back, glaring at him over her shoulder.

"A'ight then." He pulls her backwards on top of him, with her back to his chest. He grabs her legs and holds her up by her knees, thrusting upwards into her, reveling in her surprised yelp that quickly dissolves into loud moans. This new position feels so good that she's whining and making noises that only seem to turn him on as he strokes in and out of her pussy from underneath, making her body react and remind her exactly why she's not leaving his trifling ass anytime soon.

"Uhnnn yes, Roman, fuck me," she whimpers over and over, her mind spiraling, her eyes rolling back. He is relentless, pulling her legs further back and pounding her faster, sparking another intense orgasm. She squirts so hard that she's left dizzy and boneless, causing her to slip off his sweat-slick body, a shivering crumpled mess. She curls up into a fetal position and gives in to the intense euphoria of her release. With a proud snicker, the Tribal Chief caresses all over her body, then rolls her onto her stomach, spreading her thighs to observe the damage he's inflicted on her pussy.

"We ain't finished," he informs her, tapping his hard, slickened dick against her soaked, puffy folds. She tenses and arches her back on instinct, anticipating his invasion. He smiles behind her, grabs her hips, and drags her limp body up and onto his hard, waiting dick. The moans they exhale together is a symphony that serenades the pair as he continues his hard, deep thrusts. With her hips in the air and her backside in his calloused palms, she is at his mercy yet again, and her vision swims at the feeling of him practically in her spine. She knows just how deep that big ass dick of his can get inside her, but it never fails to wipe her mind blank when it does.

"Oh, fuck," she mumbles into the couch, her face sinking further in it as he drills into her hard and rough. It hurts so good that it's quite literally taking her breath away. "Shit, fuck Roman, wait, wait," she pleads, reaching behind to push his thigh and forcing him to halt his movements.

"Too much?" he asks, laughing as he presses gentle kisses along her spine, feeling her body shiver from the contact. "That's what you get when your pussy is so good. You was talkin' all that shit earlier, best believe I ain't lettin' up, baby girl. Who owns who now, huh," he says, swatting her ass and starting again.

"You're a cocky asshole," she moans shakily, defiance swirling in her lust-filled gaze.

Roman's smirk is diabolical and panty-wetting. "And don't you forget it. Now shut up and take this dick."

Joy winces as his hand curves around her throat, the other clutching her lower hip as he fucks her prone body into the sofa. She clings to the cushions and her sanity with everything she has, tears filling her eyes as he pummels her with hurried, lethal thrusts, making her ass jiggle and her pussy drip some more as she's dragged dangerously close to the precipice. He pushes the arch out of her back and flips her around, sliding right back inside before she can regain her bearings and dropping his body weight on her. His intoxicating cologne surrounds her as their mouths crush together in a hungry, toe-curling kiss. Incoherent moans leave them both as he rolls his hips against hers, nestling his dick right there, eking a sob out of her as she falls apart again.

"Aww, f-f-fuuuck..."

"I know baby, I know it feels so good," He kisses away her tears and then her cheek, his fingers curling over her breast in a light squeeze which in turn squeezes her walls around his pounding thrusts. "Mmm, this pussy so tight and wet. Keep comin' for me, baby, gimme all that nut."

His sultry command sends another wave of pleasure crashing into her like one of his trademark Spears, and her jaw drops from the force of her orgasm, her pussy clenching painfully around his dick. Her pitiful moans that she struggles to muffle against his tattooed shoulder are music to the Tribal Chief's ears as his own body is moments away from the same fate.

"Shit," he groans gruffly, shuddering breaths tearing from his lungs as his balls tighten and his strokes become sloppier, heavier, "Fuck, I'm boutta buss..."

Joy lifts her left leg up and rests it on his shoulder, digging her other heel in his lower back to pull him in deeper and finally take him down. She runs her hands all over his sides, his back, his ass, her moans mingling with his as his hips snap harder and faster. Their foreheads touch, and a devilish smile forms on her face at the helplessness in his glazed eyes, licking his lips in between throaty gasps of pleasure. She has him right where she wants him. "There you go baby, pound that fuckin' pussy, fill it up," she coaxes.

"Unhhh, shit," Roman's whines disintegrate into a whimpering cry as his big body trembles viscerally against her own. Joy's toes curl as he lodges his dick all the way inside her, making her feel each throbbing spurt of his warm seed spilling generously in her pussy. She never minds him coming inside her; her IUD is always in place, mainly for his benefit and hers. His deep, sexy grunts as he rides out his nut with stuttered ruts of his hips wash over her, leaving her breathless and weak-kneed for him.

Kissing her leg and letting it down, Roman finally pulls his dick out with a hiss and strokes out the rest of his cum onto her softened, battered pussy lips. Joy stares dazedly at the ceiling, her body humming from the last vestiges of her orgasm and a touch of pain. She feels his big arms slide around her waist and draw her in so their lips meet, savoring their collective taste with their tongues as they bask in the afterglow. He takes her arms and winds them around his neck before picking her up, transferring her from the sofa to the king-sized bed a couple of feet away. He lays her carefully on the bed and sits at the edge, watching her snuggle against the soft sheets and pillows with a satisfied sigh. The outdoor lights peeking through the window cast a glittery shadow over her nude body, making her look even more beautiful. And speaking of beautiful...

"I got you something," he announces, taking a small gift box labeled Van Cleef & Arpels sat on the nightstand and handing it to her.

"What's this?" she questions, slowly sitting up.

"Just a lil' sumn I thought you'd like," he simply shrugs. "Open it."

Eyeing him suspiciously, she unties the ribbon at the top of the box and removes the lid. Nestled in navy-blue velvet are an eighteen-carat yellow-gold Alhambra bracelet and matching earrings. She wishes she disliked the warmth that blooms inside her at the sweet gesture. She meets his eyes, noting his cocked eyebrow and cocky smirk as he gauges her reaction.

"This a good enough apology for you?" he asks.

Joy smiles gratefully and kisses his lips. "They're beautiful. But I keep telling you, you don't have to buy me anything," she says.

"Well, I want to. Sue me." He goes quiet for a few seconds, contemplating his next words. "You got tickets to the SuperBowl, right? Let's go together. We can hang out in my skybox."

"And have people talk about us? We got reputations to uphold. And what about Venita?"

"She'll be there. She's still clueless about us. And I told you, ain't nobody gon' say shit. Between your lawyer and mine, all them NDAs are water-tight." When he speaks again, his voice is much softer. "I just miss spending time with you. I miss when we weren't at each other's throats like we are these days."

"That's only cuz you make my job harder, Reigns," she points out, scooting over when he rolls into the bed and sits up against the headboard next to her.

"And you, mine. But despite all of that, I would do anything for you. You know that, right? That's why I agreed to that damn match. For you," he adds, biting his lip as he caresses her chin and gazes tenderly at her. Joy feels her heart flutter as his chocolate-colored eyes gleam with that familiar, intense passion that the two of them have been sharing for almost four years now...

"You're so cute when you get all soft and sweet on me, champ," she smiles, leaning in for another kiss that lingers pleasantly this time. It's little moments like these that try to con her, even to this day, that their affair has veered towards the romantic side. She thanks the cynical businesswoman in her for swiftly kicking that childish notion to the curb every time the delusion attempts to rear its ugly head.

Their embrace is interrupted by the grating sound of his phone vibrating, forcing him to pull away from her with a tired sigh. On the nightstand, a text message with Venita's name lights up his phone screen.

Countin the minutes till I touch down in Vegas 🥺😍 Can't wait to see you again! Love you Baby Boo 😘

"Aww, poor baby," Joy's giggle is dark and mocking as she looks over Roman's shoulder. Snatching the phone out of his hand, she opens up the message and begins typing.

"Don't start no shit, now," he sighs, but makes no move to stop whatever havoc she's causing through his device.

"Relax, Baby Boo," she teases, pressing Send and holding his phone up to his face to show him her response.

I'm waiting for you babe. Can't wait to see you 😍 Love you sm.

"See? I was nice," she says, putting away his phone and climbing on top of his big body.

Roman rolls his eyes and runs his hands along her thighs. "I guess I should thank you, then?"

"Oh, no need to thank me. I'm just being a good, caring boss," she replies, bending to kiss his lips, trailing her tongue along his bearded jawline and tasting her dried juices. "You're my star employee, so it's important that I always give you what you need. And I always give it to you, don't I?"

Roman groans into her mouth as she kisses him harder, her dainty fingers stroking his dick which immediately pulses in her grasp as though it hasn't been touched all day. "Yeah, you do," he rasps, his body heating up as she starts to descend on him. "Oh shit, baby, you feelin' generous tonight..."

"Mmm, more like selfish..." She sits all the way down with a gasp, making both their hearts race with each twitch of his cock inside her. "Cuz I want that dick again, and I'm taking it..."

She is already moving, hunched over him, her titties in his face, sucking them both back into that sensual place of pleasure they like to visit together. He answers to her, in more ways than one, and he won't have it any other way. "Anything you want, boss. Anything you want," the Tribal Chief croaks out, allowing himself to sit back and enjoy the ride, quite literally.

THE END

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

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[alixra]

party | paige bueckers

summary- you are drunk at a party and paige pays for one of your drinks. sprouting a flirty conversation and…

word count- 3.4k

—

Adrenaline rushed through your veins as you swayed your hips to the song that was playing. Your arms came up above your head while you whipped your hair around. Music was blasting, and many conversations blended together. Yet, the sounds seemed blocked out. Strobe lights flashed as you inhaled the sickening smell of sweat and marijuana. The bitter taste of alcohol burned your tongue as you grew tired of dancing.

Walking over to the bar, you ordered another drink. Your eyes fluttered with tiredness, exhaustion hitting you out of nowhere. Snapping you out of your thoughts, the bartender set your drink down. Meeting his eyes, he looked at you expectantly- waiting for you to pay him.

"How much?" You asked, reaching in your pockets for money.

"I got it," an attractive voice said out of nowhere, and you watched as a pale arm gave money to the bartender.

Looking over, you saw a tall blonde girl standing beside you. She had piercing blue eyes and wore a lopsided grin as she looked down at you. Confusion settled within you. Who was she, and why had she paid for you?

"Wait, why-"

You began to ask, but she cut you off, "I thought I would buy a pretty girl a drink." She shrugged, acting as if it was the most usual thing in the world.

You didn't know if it was because of how drunk you were or how hot she was, but her comment made you blush. Glancing down, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and tried to gain your composure.

"Oh, t-thank you," you stuttered, wondering why you were so nervous.

She smirked, aware of the effect she had on you. Coming closer, she leaned on the counter as you had, and you took the opportunity to study her further. She wore a plain white t-shirt, grey sweatpants, and white Airforces.

Suddenly, realization spawned in you. This was Paige Bueckers. Paige Bueckers was standing right before you and possibly flirting with you! Well, she was clearly flirting with you. After buying you a drink and calling you pretty, it was easy to come to that conclusion.

The real question was, were you going to flirt back? Another easy answer: obviously! I mean, this girl was practically famous. Everyone on campus knew her and had a crush on her. Not to mention, she's been a basketball superstar since she was in high school. As well as the fact she had at least a million edits made of her on TikTok.

Standing up straighter, you looked her in the eye. It was well known that she was confident and had an impressive roster (with girls and boys). But who's to say you didn't as well?

"What's your name?" Paige asked, tilting her head in a way that almost made you melt.

"Y/n, what about you?" You responded, shooting the same question right back at her.

A smile flashed across her face, "Come on, you don't know me?"

You knew she could tell you were lying, but you were enjoying this game you had going on. "No, should I?"

She shrugged, "No, but most people do."

You furrowed your eyebrows, replying sarcastically, "Oh, that's cocky."

She grinned again, "I'm telling the truth!"

"Well, if we're being truthful now, I know who you are."

"Oh, yeah?" She said, a knowing smirk overtaking her smile.

"Yes," you responded.

She nodded, "Ok then, what's my name?”

"Paige Bueckers."

"What sport do I play?"

"Basketball."

"What's my number?"

"Five."

"How old am I?"

You scoffed, "What is this a Q&A?"

"Mhm, trying to see how much of a stalker you are."

"I am not a stalker!" You exclaimed defensively, "That's basic information that any UConn student would know!"

"Ok, ok," she held her hands up in surrender. "You're not a stalker, I'm sorry."

After laughing about the conversation for a while, Paige proposed something. "So, Y/n," she said, showing off that she knew your name. "Wanna go back to my place?"

You raised your eyebrows, surprised at her boldness. "Why?”

She shrugged, her lips pressed together in a knowing smile. "No reason, we could just hang out, or..." she trailed off, looking at you mischievously.

You laughed and looked away from her, thinking about it. "You're not a serial killer or anything, right?"

She laughed, throwing her arm over your shoulder. "No, I'm not," she stated, walking over to a group of girls. "I'm heading out," Paige said, you still glued to her side.

The girls all gave each other knowing looks. They had to be the basketball team and/or Paige's friends. "Ok," they called after you two, "have fun!" They teased, giggling amongst themselves.

Your face was hot from embarrassment as Paige apologized, "Sorry about them."

"It's ok," you replied, flattered that they thought of you and Paige that way.

The cold air hit your face as you left the house the frat party was at. The moon shone brightly, the stars glistening in the night sky. You looked up and saw the glorious sight of Paige's defined jawline. She looked paler than she had inside. Her long hair appeared shiny underneath the street lights.

Catching on, she glanced at you, "Enjoying the view?"

You rolled your eyes, your lips spreading into a smile. "No," you lied, your voice breathy and exasperated.

She laughed, shaking her head as you arrived at her car. Her car was very nice, a black SUV and in good condition. She opened the door for you, and you climbed in, watching as she walked around the front of the car to get in. Once you both had your seatbelts on, she put on Drake and started driving out of the parking lot.

"Do you live on campus?" You asked, partly because you wanted to break the silence and partly because you were curious.

"Nah, I live in an apartment about 10 minutes away," she responded, using one arm to drive.

"Do you have a roommate?"

She smirked over at you, "Why?"

You mirrored her expression, shrugging as you tried to play innocent, "Oh, no reason."

She chuckled, "I do have a roommate. Her name's Azzi, do you know her?"

"Yeah, I do. I've seen Azzi play before."

"She's great. We've been best friends since high school."

"That's cool," you replied, eager to learn about her life.

"Yeah, we met when we were playing for USA. Don't worry; she'll stay out for a while.

"Good," you mumbled under your breath, hoping that Paige wouldn't hear.

"What was that?" Paige asked, leaning closer to you.

"What was what?" You responded, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

Paige laughed as she shifted her gaze back to the road.

Excitement bubbled up through you for the rest of the car ride. You were about to hook up with the Paige Bueckers! Sure, it was a possibility that you weren't going to fuck. But in your opinion, it was clear that she wanted to.

Paige mumbled along to the lyrics as she drove, drawing your attention to her pink lips. The only thought going through your mind was how badly you wanted to kiss her.

You didn't think the atmosphere could get any more intense. Until Paige placed her hand on your thigh, her hand moving farther and farther up. Your chest constricted as she drew patterns on you with her thumb.

Finally, you arrived at her apartment. You watched as she exited the car and walked around to open the door for you. Not even letting you think about getting out yourself. She gave you a reassuring smile as you stepped out of the car. Interlacing her fingers with yours and leading you to the complex. You went through a hall and up a few flights of stairs, and you could feel your panties getting wet. Going down another hall, Paige finally stopped and pulled out a set of keys from her pocket.

Unlocking the door and opening it, a cute apartment came into view. A gray couch pushed up against a wall and facing a TV. A circular coffee table sat between the two on the beige carpet. The kitchen was tiny but decent and had a mini island in the middle of it. There looked to be two rooms and an extra door, which you assumed to be a closet.

Paige wasted no time, leading you to what had to be her room. It was simple and messy, but you liked it. It had a queen-sized bed in the middle that faced a dresser and TV, and another door led to a bathroom off to the side. But your eyes focused on the posters plastered on her wall. They included SZA, Drake, and basketball. You also noticed a lot of photos of her family and friends. One thing that really caught your eye was the blanket that covered her window.

You pointed to it, a confused look on your face, "What's that?"

She blushed, embarrassed. "Oh, yeah- I don't have curtains," she explained, making you giggle. "Hey, don't laugh!" She exclaimed, walking up towards you.

"Sorry," you covered your hand with your mouth.

She bit her lip, now standing only inches away from you. Your laughter soon died down as you got lost in the act of looking into her eyes. Time seemed to slow down, and all you could think about was how pretty she was.

"Can I kiss you?" She whispered into the silence, her eyes looking hazy.

"Yes," you whispered back, leaning up to her.

She slowly connected your lips, and you had to stop yourself from moaning at the feeling. This kiss felt different than all the other ones you've had. It was like a spark shot through both of your bodies, passion coursing through you.

Paige pulled away with furrowed eyebrows, giving you a look that read: 'You feel that too?'. In response, you kissed her again. The kiss was more passionate this time, both of you eager to get more of that electric feeling.

Her hands roamed your body, landing on your hips. Meanwhile, you held her face, your thumbs caressing her soft skin. Everything felt euphoric as Paige's tongue poked at your lips, asking for entry. Giving her what she wanted, you parted your lips, relishing the way her tongue explored your mouth.

Growing tired of this position, Paige grabbed onto your thighs. Lifting you up and wrapping your legs around her waist. She turned around, walked over to her bed, and set you down. Standing up straight, she pulled her shirt over her head before climbing on you. Wasting no time, she reconnected your lips and shoved her knee between your legs.

"Paige!" You gasped, your back arching at the friction.

"Mhm," she hummed in response, kissing your jawline.

"I need you," you moaned.

"I can tell," she smirked, pulling away from the nape of your neck to look at you.

"Do something about it then," you huffed, taking off your shirt to show how serious you were.

Her eyebrows shot up at your actions. "Ok," she smiled, unclasping your bra.

She immediately latched onto your boob, sending a shiver up your spine. Her mouth worked quickly, her tongue flicking over your nipple occasionally. Her free hand soon started kneading your other breast, and you felt like you were about to explode. You were sure the whole building could hear you, but you didn't care. All you knew was that you wanted more.

You reached down to unbutton your pants, fiddling with the material. Paige ceased her actions, looking down to see what you were doing.

"Want me to take those off?" She asked.

"Mhm," you whined, nodding your head.

You bit your lip as you watched her slide them down your legs, your whole body shaking with anticipation. Before she could go any farther, you tugged on her sports bra, needing to see more of her body.

Understanding what you wanted, she took it off and threw it somewhere. Barely getting to see her chest, she grabbed onto your torso and hoisted you up farther on the bed. Standing up one last time, she removed her pants, revealing her black underwear.

She bit her lip as she laid on her stomach, her face only inches away from your cunt. She started sucking your clit through your panties, and you nearly lost it.

She then began placing open-mouthed kisses all over your inner thighs. Gently biting down at your sensitive skin every once in a while. The sensation somehow felt good at the moment, and you were positive it was the alcohol making you feel that way. Placing one last kiss on your stomach, she hooked her fingers on the waistband of your underwear.

"I'm gonna take these off now, ok?" She spoke, coming back up to your face.

"Please do," you begged, causing her to let out a breathy laugh.

She placed a sweet kiss on your lips as she took them off. And you felt so safe and comfortable under her touch. Breaking the kiss, she leaned back to examine your completely naked body. "You're beautiful," she said, her eyes flickering up to yours.

Your face reddened, and you couldn't stop the small smile that appeared. "Thank you," you whispered.

She matched your soft smile, pressing her lips against yours again. The kiss didn't last long as she slid a finger up and down your pussy, pressing on your clit. Your mouth fell agape, and all your words stuck in your throat. She maintained eye contact with you as she swirled your wetness around.

All the other times you've had sex, you've felt embarrassed. Wanting to hide the facial expressions and sounds you made. But with Paige, you wanted her to see and hear all of you. So, you let a string of moans and curse words escape your mouth. Earning lots of praise from Paige.

"Good girl, let me hear you," she whispered, her hot breath tickling your skin.

You almost came at her words, and her inserting one of her long fingers inside of you didn't help. You exhaled, looking down at her hand as she moved in and out of you. Her pace quickened, and you found your hips moving to the rhythm of her finger.

"Go faster," you commanded, your hands reaching to scratch Paige's back.

She did as you asked, adding another finger as well. At the same time, she started kissing your neck again. Finding your sweet spot and adding to your pleasure.

She was fingering you harder and faster now, the bed moving with the amount of force she was putting into it. You could feel your walls tighten as you got closer to finishing. Paige made her way down your body. Kissing your boobs and stomach before reaching your soaking center. She knew you were close, and she planned to send you over to the edge by attaching her mouth to your clit.

Her plan worked, and you screamed her name as you gripped her hair. You felt completely out of control, the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through you. Waves of pleasure surged through you as you released all into Paige's mouth and hand. You took a deep breath as you came down from your high, now exhausted.

You expected Paige to stop, but she kept on going as if you didn't just orgasm. Your breathing picked up again as Paige kept on fingering you and flicking her tongue over your clit.

"Paige, please!" You exclaimed, becoming overstimulated.

"Do you want me to stop?" Paige asked, her cold breath hitting your cunt.

Your heart felt like it was about to burst, and your senses were completely overloaded. But it felt too good for it to end yet.

"No," you shook your head, tears brimming your eyes.

"Ok, just one more time then baby," she responded, her free hand pressing down onto your stomach.

You gripped onto her hair harder as you felt yourself cumming again. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, all sounds and words getting stuck in your throat. It was almost painful how good you were feeling, and this was by far the best orgasm you had ever had.

Paige pulled out of you, lapping up the cum that spilled out of you. You were sensitive and sore, but it felt good. So you let her, stroking her hair as she did so.

Coming back up to you, she pressed her lips against yours, groaning into the kiss. "You did so good, baby," she commented, pulling away to look into your eyes.

A blush coated your cheeks, and you found it hard to look into her eyes. "You did so good," you replied.

She smiled, proud of herself. "Yeah?"

You bit your lip as you rolled over on top of her, now straddling her waist. "Mhm," you hummed, tucking her hair behind her ear.

You looked at her admiringly, getting a good look at her body for the first time. Your eyes trailed over her small but full breasts, her pink nipples hard. Satisfying your urges, you reached up to touch them. Watching the way Paige's eyebrows pinched together as you kneaded her boobs. She inhaled, her hands holding onto your hips.

Next, you looked at her toned stomach and smooth legs. If she wasn't a basketball player- she could be a model.

Scooting further down, you fisted the material of her underwear. Looking up to her for permission before sliding them down her muscular legs. You decided against teasing her, knowing she worked hard and deserved to feel good. Yet, you couldn't help your need to place kisses all over her boobs and stomach. But once you finished, you settled yourself between her thighs.

Her eyes shone with desperation as she looked down at you, making you even more eager. Your tongue spread her folds, and you hooked your arms under her thighs. Attaching your mouth to her clit, she let out a satisfying groan, her heels digging into your back.

Becoming more aggressive with your actions, you flicked your tongue over her clit. She whimpered, her hands cradling your head. Her breath came out short and fast-paced, her chest heaving with her labored actions.

You moved down to her dripping slit, dipping your tongue in her. Her body tensed, and you watched as she bit her lip, trying her best to stay quiet. Paige's back arched off the back as you used your nose to apply pressure to her clit.

All you could think about was how good she tasted and how heavenly everything felt.

"Y/n," she moaned, sitting up on her forearms.

"Mhm," you hummed, sending vibrations throughout her body.

Her head dropped back, her silky hair cascading down her back. "Shit," she murmured, her voice husky. "Do that again," she instructed.

You hummed again, now using the flat of your tongue to rub her clit. Her legs squeezed around your head, and you could tell she was getting close. You reached up to pinch her nipple, twisting it in a circle. She shut her eyes tightly, your finger coming to tease her entrance.

Hoping it would cause her to finish, you shoved your finger inside of her. Curling it into her g-spot instantly.

She moaned again, "Fuck, right there."

The pace of her breath drastically picked up, and her fingers dug into your scalp. You kept going as best as you could as she came, trying to move your finger and tongue even faster than before. Her face was so expressive, and so were the sounds she made.

Her stomach heaved up and down as she came down from her high. Running her hand through her hair as she tried to catch her breath.

Once you were sure she finished, you crawled back up her body. Her eyes looked tired as she slowly blinked at you. Her arms wrapped around your waist as you straddled her once again. Her hair was messy, her lips swollen, and her body slightly sweaty.

"Thank you," she said, rubbing her hands up and down your side.

You smiled, "Thank you."

She mirrored your grin, pulling you down to lay on her. You nestled your face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her addictive scent. Her fingertips traced patterns on your lower back, her soft breath tickling your ear. Your eyes fluttered, and exhaustion hit you for the second time tonight.

After a while, you felt yourself slip into sleep in Paige's warm embrace.

[vxmpjules]

You and Miguel get into an argument and You wanna do anything possible to not think about it.

Not a smut, a part is lightly suggestive not that much idk

You sighed as you already knew Miguel wasn't coming back anytime soon. He was gonna stay in the headquarters, swarming himself with work and putting more stress on his shoulders, just to not deal with the argument.

You knew him, his way of handling things, he ignored them, then he came back without talking about it and everything was back to normal. It was a simple cycle, you were used to it. But the endless nights you spent crying as he left you home alone, without no comfort, you were tired so you decided to take a different approach.

Miguel was at the headquarters, as you had your phone to your ear, talking to one of your girlfriends excitedly. "Call me when you get here" you chimed before hanging the phone up continuing putting your makeup on.

Finishing your makeup, you look at yourself in the mirror and you looked absolutely amazing. You and your girlfriends had planned to go to the club together, this being your coping mechanism for this argument with Miguel, you'd try your best to not think about him.

You already heard honking outside meaning the night had finally begun, applying some perfume before running outside the apartment you and Miguel owned. Locking it quickly and going down the stairs, exiting the building and getting in your girlfriends car

You got to the club and went to the bar to get some drinks. Talking to a random guy that had already bought you half of your drinks, it was pretty evident that the guy was flirting, but you went with it, anything to not think about Miguel. You felt your phone vibrating in your purse, turning it on to see Miguel calling you, which surprised you, maybe he was gonna apologize? Or stop with the stupid silent treatment and come home. But you decided that should just ignore him, like he does to you, so he could feel how you felt.

You turned off your phone and kept talking with the guy, ignoring the phone that was blowing up like crazy. Getting bored from the guy you excused yourself from him and went to floor, dancing to the song, before hearing your ringtone again. With a sigh you went to a corner and picked up.

"Hey, I saw that you've been calling me, I have no service at the club, sorry" you quickly explained with a bitter tone "Donde estás?" Miguel asked, completely ignoring the fact you just mentioned it a second ago, he didn't believe you until he listened closely to the background noise. "I can't hear you I'm kinda busy" you say hurriedly before hanging up on him as you rolled your eyes, the purpose of being here was to get him off your head, not for him to be the main thing on your thoughts right now.

You looked over at the dance floor, seeing your girlfriends calling you over to dance, you quickly rushed over since your favorite song was playing. You started dancing ignoring the phone as Miguel blew up your texts, another call came in, you answered thinking if you answered it he would stop.

"Look, i can't text you with a drink my hand, eh?" You say at the phone, your voice almost not being audible by the loud music. "Why are you at club?" Miguel questioned angrily, his fast breathing being noticible through the speaker. "Shouldn't have left me hanging after the argument Miguel." You retort with a snort, you couldn't with him, not right now.

"Now, I'm kinda busy." You remarked coldly at man before hanging up. Shoving the phone back in your purse, you kept dancing until a fairly attractive guy started dancing with you, you both being dangerously too close. If Miguel where to see this, this mere guy, a stranger with his beloved, he'd turn this guy into dust, right there.

Miguel quickly changed himself and got to the very same club you where at, no way was he gonna let you out there, mad at him and not afraid to do anything. He couldn't let someone else touch you, you were his, and only his.

He entered the club, to be greeted by the sight of you and that guy, being too close even for your own liking. Miguel scoffed at your actions making his way to you, pushing his way through the crowd of dancing strangers.

He finally got to you, shoving the guy away and placing his hands on your hips, as you hadn't notice that he was there.

You felt bigger hands on your hips as a breath left your lips as you felt Miguel's face in your neck. "Almost beat the guy to death" he said calmly in your neck as he caressed your hips slowly. Gradually sinking his fangs into your neck.

"Maybe this way people will know you're mine, mhm? That you have an owner" he whispered in your ear as he turned you over face him. He pulled your chin for you to look up at him, "You had me worried..." He sighed as he looked deep in your eyes with a frown. "I'm sorry for arguing earlier, I'll stop with how i treat you after our arguments, mhm?" He stated with a small smile before kissing you tenderly.

I'm cfyin this is so shit and i love ATSV smmmm give me some asks or sum idc anything

[itsdori-lover]

Cherry Blossom Connection

Erm.. hey y'all! This my first post on here so PLEASE BE NICE 😞...

Any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!!

Summary: You're invited by your best friend Mina to the club, you think you won't meet anyone interesting but to your surprise, you do.. Some notes: you're gender neutral but has girlalala parts!!, Izuku is asian & hispanic! I think that's it tho... :)

TW!!: Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Spanking, Shotgun Kissing, Creampie 🙃

I walked in the club, the music thumping and people dancing. Honestly I didn’t want to be here today, but I was forced by Mina. 

[ FLASHBACK!!] 

I just got out of the shower, feeling refreshed and ready for bed until I heard my Tyler, the creator ringtone going off. I let out a sigh before picking up my phone to answer. “ Yes minaaa!~” I said as I stretched out her name for the effects. “ Girl get dressed and get to the bar, I sent you the Addie. See you in an hour!!!” She said before she hung up. ‘Damn she could have at least let me get a word in…’ I thought before picking out my clothes.

[ FLASHBACK OVER!!!]

It smelled like drunk people and weed. How amazing… Anyway, I walked to the bar ordering a frozen raspberry margarita. If i was forced here, i’m at least gonna get tipsyyy! Speaking of being forced here, I looked around for Mina and I found her making out with this red head. Seems like she’s getting some dick tonight 🤭. I need to really find myself a boo, but all these guys look like perverts so… I probably won’t find anyone today. 

As I ordered another Margarita and a shot, My song ‘ Anxious ’ came on. Of course I have to get up and dance. I got up, making my way to the dance floor. I swayed my hips, shaking my ass and moving my arms around my body as I danced. I continued until I felt hands snake across my hips. Listen, I don't play when it comes to clubs, I'm always ready to kick ass. my hands rated E for EVERYONE!!! I turned around, ready for it to be a perv but it turned out to be a green haired Asian boy. ooo he was so good looking. He had green eyes, freckles, and two deep dimples that popped out with the slightest smile. 

My attitude immediately changed as I took in his looks. “ Hi beautiful, what’s your name?” He asked as he continued to sway with me. I stared at him before turning back around, ignoring his question. “ hmm~ playing hard to get huh? that’s fine by me” He whispered in my ear. His deep voice sent my heart to cloud 9. God he sounded so sexy, but I can't let him have me that easily. as we danced together, My favorite part came on. Just to be bold and get a reaction, I rubbed my ass against him. His grip got tighter as he rubbed circles into my back.

We danced some more until we got a tad bit tired. He walked me to a booth with a bunch of liquor bottles laying around. “ Now will you tell me your name, pretty girl?” He said as he rubbed circles into my thighs. “ It's (your name), what about you, pretty boy?” I retaliated, leaning forward to stare in his eyes. He stared at me back for a few seconds before leaning back into the sofa, “ it’s Izuku Midoriya.” After introducing ourselves, we got into a conversation about anything and everything. 

Soon it got late and the club was closing. By this time, I completely forgot about Mina. I guess I'll just have to call her tomorrow to make sure she's still alive. Honestly I didn’t want to leave Izuku, it seemed like he was thinking the same thing as he led me to his car. As I got into his 2023 BMW I admired his red interior, it fits him so well. Sexy yet classy… Anyway we continued our talk, when I looked back at him he was rollin up a blunt. I stared at him as he licked the paper before using his hands to smooth it down. God he looked so sexy, definitely had the kitty purring… 😍 (LMAOOO) 

I didn’t even realize he started to stare right back at me until he broke me out of my thoughts with a question. “ Do you smoke?” “ Of course I do” I stated before turning away from him again. When he tried to light the blunt, his lighter wasn’t working. I leaned in and flicked mine up to light it. The fire made his face look so detailed and fine as he stared at me with that look in his eyes. He breathed in before blowing the smoke out of his nose. He then passed the blunt to me so I could hit. As soon as the smoke filled my lungs, I felt all the worries and embarrassment fade away. 

We passed the blunt back and forth, both of us getting our fill. Izuku stared at me before speaking “ Te ves tan hermosa mamas” I stopped mid blow out to stare at him in awe. “ You know spanish??” He chuckled before saying “ I’m hispanic too, mi amor” I smiled at him, making a mental note of that. “ I see, that makes sense” I said before passing the blunt to him. As he took his hit, he looked at me and grabbed my chin. Izuku pulled me in saying “ Open your mouth, Mamas” before blowing smoke into my mouth. Our eyes said so many words our mouth couldn’t say. 

He moved his lips close to mine before kissing me. Our kiss was sweet at first before becoming sensual and hungry. We were hungry for each other's taste and warmth. As Izuku kissed me, He stubbed our blunt and dropped it somewhere on the floor. He grabbed my hips and lifted me onto his lap, his hands roamed my body as I moaned in his mouth. I rutted my hips against his, needing friction to tame the firing feeling on my body.

Izuku kissed down my neck, looking and searching for my sweet spot all while leaving purplish marks all over my neck. We grinded on each other, searching for pleasure while touching every place we can. His hands moved to my ass, cuffing it before sliding his hands inside my panties. His fingers circled my clit, catching my breath in my throat. “ U-ugh, Izuku~” He looked up at me as he pushed my bra up and immediately latched onto my nipple, playing with the other one. My face scrunched as the pleasure moved throughout my body. 

“ more, please!” I mumbled as his finger quickend in tight circles on my clit. I felt myself getting closer and closer to my orgasm. As soon as I was about to cum, he stopped everything. “ Izuku!~” I moaned in displeasure. “ Be patient, pretty girl” Izuku whispered as he took off my panties. He moved his fingers from my clit to my hole. “ ¿Estás tan mojada ya?Que chica tan traviesa~” Izuku mainly mumbled to himself. I was too desperate for pleasure to even notice his language switch. I rutted my hips against his fingers, hoping to signal that I need some type of friction. 

He definitely got the signal as he thrusted two fingers into me at once. “ See you’re so wet, two fingers went in so easily” He commented as he thrusted his fingers at a fast but slow pace. I couldn’t even reply as he knocked my breath straight out of my lungs. “ hnnggg! wait please~” I yelped as I felt my orgasm coming. Instead of stopping, Izuku sped up hoping I would cum on his fingers. “ Go ahead, cum for me, pretty girl.” He egged on. As soon as those words slipped from his mouth, the knot came undone. Izuku kept fingering me through my orgasm as he soothed me with his words. We kissed sloppily, saliva sliding down my lips. 

He took out his cock, it was clean cut. Pretty pink tip with a mix of a dark and light shaft. Just when I thought I was done for the night, The sight of his cock got me aroused all over again. When we made eye contact, the sparks flew and before I knew it, he was positioning me on his cock. He looked at me for consent and once he got it, he lowered me onto him. I couldn’t even feel the stretch of my cunt with all of the pleasure that flowed through me. Izuku groaned as he felt the wetness surrounding his aching cock. 

Once he bottomed out, He checked up on me making sure I was comfortable and okay. When doing so he realized I was too fucked out to even understand him, so he started moving. Izuku gripped my thighs to lift me up to the tip before slamming me back down. “ Mmmfffp!~” I moaned as he fucked me with no mercy. “ Joder hermosa~” Izuku slurred into my neck. I gripped his hair and pulled it as he fucked me. For a while, all I could hear was skin slapping and loud moans. The car started to shake as he got more aggressive.

All of a sudden, all movement stopped when he pushed his seat back. “ Ride me, my love” Is all he said as he stared at me. I was so tired and out of breath, all I could do was move my hips side to side. Izuku didn’t like that so he smacked my ass. “ Hurry up hermosa…” He asserted with a hard stare. I whimpered as I placed my hands on his chest and lifted myself. I dropped myself down, moaning as I did so. “ Hngh!” He and I both moaned. One hand made its way to my hip while the other made its way to my nipple, pulling and playing with it.  I smacked myself down hard as I fucked myself onto him. I felt a familiar knot form in my stomach. I knew I was going to cum. Izuku was also close as he gripped my hips harder and his moans got more high pitched. “ I- izuku~ I’m going to-!” I couldn’t get my sentence out as I came on Izuku’s cock. I thought he would stop but he continued to fuck himself through his own orgasm. I felt him fill me up with his cum as he moaned my name. “ Joder, te sientes tan bien a mi alrededor.~” Izuku said to me as he lifted me off him. “ Get some sleep mamas, I'll clean you up” He suggested, and with that I went to sleep.

[minnaci]

CALM AFTER THE STORM

contents: nanami kento x gn!reader, jjk s2 spoilers (shibuya incident), hurt/comfort, reader is implied to have died years before the shibuya incident, cooking together as a love language, kissing, reunions, death

what is death if not a new beginning?

or, nanami makes his journey to the afterlife. it's not so bad.

it's strange, nanami thinks. he had forgotten what it meant to move without pain, and yet here he is, dancing without a care in the world. his joints don't crack, his knees don't ache. he could have sworn he had injured his eye, and yet, here he is, witnessing the ocean in its full, unfettered glory.

pantai cenang is beautiful. idyllic. not a curse in sight. nanami takes a moment to soak it all in. fine white sand. crystal blue water. coconut trees. there's a distinct lack of people— surprising, given how popular the beach is with tourists— but nanami knows better than to question such a blessing.

there's a little cottage in the distance, one that doesn't exist on any map. in his heart, nanami knows you're inside, humming as you wash the vegetables you'd picked from the garden. it's been too long since he's seen you, held you in his arms. months. years. his heart squeezes. ah, that familiar ache— yearning. he quickens his pace.

absence makes the heart grow fonder. in his mind's eye, you twirl in the sand with him, feet nimble. he spins, more graceful than he’s ever been. he soars. he falls. fighting is dancing in the same way that the waves batter against the shore— beauty and violence, art and destruction.

nanamin! a shout echoes across the water, and nanami lowers his arms, turning on instinct to the familiar voice. even in his retirement, it seems that he can still hear the voice of his loudest student.

ah, he's exhausted— this is what he gets for indulging in the sun. he can sense your frown already. you'd always fretted over him, all soft hands and gentle touches.

the scent of blood rises on the wind, but there is no fear. even sharks need to eat. such is the way life and death dance together.

nanamin! the voice shouts again, or maybe it’s an echo of the first call, bounding across the surf. his fatigue overwhelms him like falling in love— slow, then all at once.

he is so, so tired of fighting.

faster than he can comprehend, there’s a firm pressure against his stomach. a mosquito buzzes around his face. he swats it away idly. there’s something he’s forgetting. something important.

nanamin!

ah. that’s right. he doesn’t have to worry anymore.

“itadori,” he says, voice carrying over the waves. “you’ve got it from here.”

there’s a gut-wrenching snap in his core. it severs something vital, and yet… he’s never felt more alive. he is a hollow-boned creature, like the birds. finally, the weight of the world is no longer his to bear.

your presence calls to him, draws him in from across the beach, and he turns towards your siren’s song. his lips form the shape of your name. in the blink of an eye, his hand is on the doorknob to your cottage.

"i'm home."

you whip around so fast that nanami almost fears your neck will snap clean in two. “kento?”

“it’s me.”

there’s a split second where the world freezes. the light from the late early evening sun dances amongst dust motes. your lips part, and nanami trembles with the force of his want for you.

then, like the tide to the moon, like planets to a star, you crash together. you fly across the room into nanami’s waiting arms, two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place. when he kisses you, you taste like salt, like grief, like joy. it makes him want to kiss you more, kiss you harder, so he does.

you pull away, and nanami only just resists the urge to chase your lips.

"you're... so early. i didn't expect to see you here for a few more decades." you cup his face, fingers tracing over the familiar curves of his cheeks, his jaw. nanami turns his face into the affectionate touches.

"and leave you to eat dinner alone?" nanami leans in again, kissing the tears from your cheeks in a few quick, fluttering brushes of lips against skin. “i’m officially retired. where else would i want to be, if not with you?”

“you’re so romantic today.” there’s a choked quality to your voice.

oh, nanami thinks. it’s really been too long. “i’m romantic all the time for you.”

“i missed you.” apropos of nothing, the words tear from your chest, like you can’t hold them back anymore. your face crumples. heat pricks behind nanami’s eyes as you bury your face against his chest, frame trembling with the effort of holding back your tears. “i missed you so much.”

comfort has never been nanami’s forte, but with you, it’s as easy as breathing to hug you closer, to make soft, soothing sounds, to rub gentle circles over your back.

“i missed you, too,” he says, a confession. the world swims in his vision. he blinks rapidly. “more than you could ever know.”

he rocks you back and forth, back and forth, holding you as you shake apart in his arms. there’s no pressure to perform, no shareholders to impress, no curses to exorcise. only you, and your love, and your touch.

and he gets to have this forever.

nanami’s not sure how long you stay there, only that his skin still hungers for yours when you press a teary kiss to his cheek and maneuver out of his hold. you sniffle, wipe your eyes, and offer him a familiar apron with a watery smile. “here. you still remember how to cook, right, mr. salaryman sorcerer?”

“what are we making?” nanami takes the proffered apron. i’m the cook, it reads. he glances down at your apron, already knowing what it says. kiss the cook. the corner of his mouth twitches up.

“hainan chicken rice,” you say. “when in malaysia…”

“of course,” he says. “pass me the knife.”

it’s been a while since he’s handled a sharp blade. the handle sits in the palm of his hand— rough, worn smooth by years of use. a tool of the home. he finds that he likes the weight of it.

the rhythm of cooking is an intimate waltz. one, two, three. he crushes the garlic under the flat of his knife, then minces it. bits of garlic cling to his fingers, and he picks it off, shapes it into a pile. the papery peel is swept aside, to be returned to the earth.

the edge of his blade is used to peel ginger. short, quick strokes— not a motion wasted. when he’s done, the ginger’s aroma tickles his nose, as sharp as his knife. he slices it thinly and places it next to the garlic.

you heat oil in a pan as he works, humming a low melody. he hasn’t heard it in years, but it’s as warm and familiar as the bed you share. when the oil starts to sizzle, you add in his minced garlic, his sliced ginger. the scent spreads through the room, savory and safe.

you produce rice from a small rice cooker. it’s not ideal to use freshly cooked rice in fried rice dishes, but nanami has every confidence you’ll manage. while you stir in the chicken fat and bullion, he looks around for something else to set his blade to.

cucumbers, fresh from your garden outside. nanami taps one gently, a faint smile pulling at the edges of his lips at the hollow, satisfying thock. it’s quick work to peel them, revealing pale green flesh. it’s even quicker work to slice them. he loses himself in the task, in the comfort of your presence, and lets his muscle memory take over.

“are you using your technique on those poor cucumbers?” there’s a smile in your voice. nanami glances down at the cucumbers, and sure enough, they’re sliced in uneven fractions of 7/10.

the motions of violence are not so easily forgotten, but true peace lasts only in the memory of war. nanami gives you a small smile, presses a soft kiss to your temple, and resumes cutting his cucumbers— evenly, this time. even the sharpest of blades can be repurposed.

dinner is a quiet affair. two plates, two cups of tea, two settings at the table. conversation flows as easily as wine. your foot nudges against his calf— once, twice. he nudges back, delighting in the radiant smile that you can’t seem to hold back.

both of your plates sit empty upon the table. the last dregs of tea cool in your cups. cleaning up is quick, made quicker by long-established routine: he washes, you dry. on the last of the dishes, he leans into you— a silent request. you lean back— acquiescence.

he will never tire of touching you. instinct is a trembling little creature in his heart, and you are the soft hands that soothe him, letting him pull you flush against his chest. minutes drip into hours, and the sun begins its slow descent as he cradles you in his arms. somehow, you migrate to bed, and then everything is warmth and love and perfection.

these quiet delights, this tender intimacy— nanami revels in it, revels in this little life, this future you share.

“the sun is setting,” you murmur, a tender look in your eyes. you’re a vision painted in gold light, an angel in soft sheets. he could soak in you forever. “it’s almost time to go home.”

“is home as good as this?” he takes your hand, presses a kiss to the back of it.

“it’s better.” you slip out of bed, and he follows you outside. a gentle breeze ruffles his hair, brings him the scent of salt and the sea. the sun dips lower on the horizon, and yet, the light only brightens. it’s not harsh, but a gentle, beckoning warmth.

“are you ready, kento?”

“you’ll be with me?” it wouldn’t be a home without you.

“i will. i promise.” you take his hand, lean in, press a kiss to his cheek. tension drains from his shoulders like the low tide. a home with you is more than he could have ever dreamed of. “let’s go home.”

together, you walk into the light. neither of you look back.

tags: @angelshub @enchantedforest-network

[kaliforniahigh]

MEDUSA - Part Seven.

I'm soo excited for you guy to read this one!!! Our lovebirds finally did it!!! I hope I made them justice. They're just so sweet to each other :') Check out the song mentioned in the story, it is beautiful and it fits the moment so nicely. I proofread, but there can still be some mistakes.

Warnings: smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it pls!), fingering, oral (female receiving), jealousy, talks of guns.

WC: 5.6k

Summary: Y/N is a private dancer at a Gentleman's Club called Medusa. Noah Sebastian is a crime boss. Their paths cross when one night, Noah pays for one of her dances and they can't seem to be apart from each other.

Series Masterlist

You woke up in the morning, the curtains were closed, so very little light was coming into the room. It took you a second to register that you weren't home and to remember that last night Noah drove you to this safehouse.

You don't remember actually going to your room last night, so you figured you fell asleep on the couch and Noah was kind enough to move you to your bed. You made a mental note to thank him later.

Stretching your limbs, you make your way of bed and into the corridor, the smell of coffee invading your senses and making your mouth water, but you needed to brush your teeth first. Last night you noticed this house had everything needed to live in it. Including shampoo, conditioner and toothbrushes, like the one you were tearing from the package.

Washing your face as best as you can with only water, you reminded yourself to ask Noah if it was possible for someone to retrieve things from your house. Your work bag had your essentials, but you were going to need more, specially if you didn't know how long you were staying here.

Leaving the bathroom and making your way to the kitchen, stomach rumbling and eager for something to eat, you were obligated to stop in your tracks as you were met with Noah's shirtless back. The tattoo inked on his skin was beautiful, colorful and it suited him well. It filled his broad back nicely.

Deciding that standing there without saying anything was too awkward, you decided to make yourself present. "Good morning. What time is it?", you asked, realizing you never looked at the time before leaving your room.

He turned around to greet you as well, and you did everything to maintain your eyes on his, finding it difficult to not let it wander over his torso and stomach. "It's just past 8am. I thought you were going to wake up later. You seemed pretty tired last night", he turned back to what seemed to be some scrambled eggs on the kitchen stove.

"I was. I just can't seem to sleep in too late. I've always been an early riser", you sat down on the same chair as last night, claiming your spot for the remainder of your time here.

He brought the pan to the table and then grabbed two plates with two toasts on each. You got up and went over to the coffee maker, grabbing the coffee pot along with two mugs from the cupboard.

You both set down to eat breakfast. "I'm gonna have to leave for a while, take care of some things in the city, but I'll try to be back soon", he said and took a bite of his toast.

"It's ok, I'll be fine here. Take as long as you need", you didn't want to keep him away from things he needed to do.

"I'll need you to make a list of things you'll need from your house. I'll have someone pick up the groceries and drop by your place to get your things", your eyes lit up at this and he laughed lightly at your reaction.

"I was gonna ask you today if someone could do that", you admitted, finishing your breakfast and washing the plate in the sink, despite Noah's protests. "If I'm gonna be here, you'll have to let me do things. Now, where can I get a piece of paper and a pen to get started on that list?"

He made a sound of resignation and pointed towards a little table beside the couch. You got what you needed and sat down again to write everything down. You tried to keep the list light, adding only what you needed the most.

Noah finished his own breakfast and went over to his room to get ready to leave. Putting on his coat over his holster to hide the gun he kept there, and patting his pockets to make sure he had everything he needed.

You gave him your list as soon as he came back. "I won't take long. Make yourself at home", he told you, making his way to the door and grabbing his car keys along the way.

"Hey", you called out to him, making turn around to look at you. "I noticed your door opens with your fingerprint. Can you register mine, just in case I want to get some fresh air outside?", you asked him.

"Of course. Just give me a second", he went outside and called for someone named Max, telling him to come over and get your fingerprint.

"Hi, ma'am", he greeted you with a smile. His height was similar to Noah's, only a little bit shorter, but the similarities stopped there. Max had a buzzcut, but you could see his blond hair coming through. It made his blues eye stand out even more.

You aknowledged him with a nod, as you saw him mess with something on his cellphone. "Can you give me your index finger, please?", he asked after a few seconds, and you extended your index finger toward him.

His hands completely encompassed yours, and you thought if this was really necessary. You could place your own finger on the reader by yourself. But you let him do his thing anyways, thinking that he was just trying to be kind.

You could sense Noah watching the interaction from behind the two of you. The door lock made a sound and something green flashed where you had your finger. Max finally let go of your hand. "All set, you're free to come in and out now", he flashed you another smile, you were going to thank him, when Noah spoke up "You can go back to your post now, Max", the man nodded and walked away.

"I think I'll sit outside for a little bit. It's a nice day today", you said as you observed the sun shining above you.

"Just don't stray too far, ok? I would prefer if you stayed on the porch so the security guards can keep an eye on you"

"Understood", you made a serious face and nodded firmly, trying to make a little fun about how worried he always seemed to be about you.

"Yeah, whatever. I'll go now, you've kept me for too long already", you could see a little smile on his face as he turned around to head over to his car. You saw him stop on the way there and mutter something to Max, before getting in his car and leaving through the gate.

As Noah drove through the woods, he thought about how he could barely sleep during the night. He was grateful you seemed to be taking this like a champ and he felt better with you being at the safehouse. But he couldn't shake the thought that someone walked up to his doorsteps and left him that envelope without anyone noticing.

He needed to come up with a solution, and fast. You couldn't live there forever and one day, you had to go back to your normal life. The rest of the drive went by smoothly, his brain never shutting off for even a second, hyper-aware of his surroundings.

He gave the boys a heads-up to wait for him at his house, so he found everyone already sat around the table, their heads turned towards him as soon as he entered. Jolly was the first to speak up "what was in that envelope, man? You left right after I handed it to you"

"It was a death threat from our favorite group of people", he decided not to beat around the bush.

"So you decided to leave and deal with it on your own?", Nicholas asked him, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"There's more to it", he paused, the boys are not gonna like what he's saying next. "Y/N received one as well, in her workplace, last night", he observed everyone's expressions, their eyebrows shooting up.

"Y/N from the club?", Jolly wanted to confirm, Noah nodded.

"She called me right after I got the envelope. I think we got them around the same time, so it's possible there were two people delivering them. She called me in a panic, so I took her to the safehouse in the woods. That's why I left last night", he gave Nicholas the side-eye, addressing his hurried exit.

"Yeah, you did the right thing", the man aknowledged.

"But it gets worse", Noah rubbed his forehead. "They know that we know that they are planning to attack us. And they know that Y/N is the one who told us", collective grunts were heard around the room, along with exasperated sighs.

"Man, this is not a good situation. We could've planned ahead, but now that they know, they could attack us anytime, since they know that they don't have the advantage anymore", Jolly stated what they were all thinking.

"Yes, but that's what I've been pondering about last night. They can't attack us if we attack them first", Noah suggested.

"Yeah, but we gotta wait for the big shipment to come through. And we're not even sure it's going to be a smooth delivery now", Nicholas observed.

"I don't think they're going to attack us there anymore, they've lost their element of surprise" Jolly contered.

"Folio, I need you to check on the database and see if they have any shipments coming in before ours", Noah instructed. Folio started typing on his laptop in front of him. "Seems like it, they have a shipment coming one day before ours", the younger boy informed. Noah was thankful everyday for a technical analyst on his team.

"So that confirms our previous theory. They had more guns coming so they could strike on us the day after, when our guns arrived", Jolly pointed out and everyone nodded.

"And now we know when we need to strike. Their shipments are smaller than ours, they have less men. It's the perfect opportunity for us", Noah could sense everyone's apprehension. "I don't like this anymore than you guys do. I wish we could go on without having to do this. But we need to remind ourselves that these men were planning on taking us out and taking our place", he reasoned.

"I agree with you man. You're not wrong. But we gotta prepare quickly, we don't have much time", Nicholas said and Noah agreed.

"We'll start today. We'll be ready. We've done this plenty of times during our younger years", and Noah was right. Before they were in this position, they participared in many raids. "Folio, start studying the map of the port, so we can decide what positions to take. The rest of us will start assemblying and loading the guns we'll need", everyone nodded and started to file out of the room, Nicholas the only one remaining.

He waited until everyone left to start talking. "You know she cares about you to some degree, right?", Noah knew he was talking about you. "She could've just left us in the dark, but she decided to tell us and now she's in this delicate position"

"I shouldn't have gone to her house that night, let alone give her my number", Noah didn't have the energy to look into his best friend's eyes at the moment.

"You could argue that. But from what I've seen and heard that night, she would hardly do anything she doesn't wanna do. So the decision she made was a conscious one", Nicholas always seemed to be capable of knocking some sense into Noah. "I'm just telling you this because I know you're beating yourself up over this, It's not your fault. Besides, she works at Medusa, I'm pretty sure she knows somewhat what this bussiness entails", Noah looked at Nicholas this time and found simpathy in his eyes.

"Thank you, Nick", his gratefulness was sincere, his friend didn't need to take the time to do this, but he chose to anyway. It is rare they got some reassurance and simpathy in this job, but they never lost their empathy towards each other. Noah guesses that's why they're such a tight-knit group. And that's how he knows they'll get through this.

It was nearing 4pm now, the wind was getting colder and you have run out of thing to do here. You made yourself another cup of coffee and spent a couple of hours outside, hearing the birds chirp and wind blowing through the trees. Then you made yourself some lunch, explored the house and ultimately, took a nap on the couch.

It wasn't lost on you the fact that Noah left in the morning and hasn't come back yet. You know you said he could take as long as he needed, but the uneasy feeling didn't leave your stomach for the entire day.

You were in here, protected by a bunch of men with guns, and he was out there. You tried to remind yourself that he was used to this. But you also remembered that you weren't the only one receiving death threats. But you trusted him, and hoped he was as serious about keeping himself safe as he is about keeping you safe.

A little later you heard the gate open and a car driving in. You guessed he was home after all. Making your way outside, your suspicions were confimed, as you saw him killing the engine and getting out of the car.

You don't know what you were thinking, but as soon as he was standing in front of you, you took him in your arms and embraced him, a muffled "hi" leaving your lips into his chest. It took a second for him to register what was happening, but when he did, he circled his arms around your middle, and rested his chin on your head.

You parted after a few seconds but his arms didn't leave your waist. You put your hands on his sholders and inconspicuously tried to pat his arms, looking for any signs that he might not be well. You failed because he amusedly laughed at your actions.

"I'm fine. I just went to my house to talk to the boys", he tried to ease your mind. You got a good look at his face and noticed that his eyes were droopy with tiredness. He needed some rest.

He turned around you with both of his hands and led you into the house. "The groceries should be here soon, along with your things. I just need to take a shower and then I'll fix us something for dinner", you put you right hand up and stopped him right there.

"No, no. I'm taking care of dinner tonight. You'll take a shower and then you'll sit on the couch and wait", now it was his turn to put his hands up, an amused look on his face.

"Ok, then. I won't fight you", he stepped around you with a false look of fear on his face. You rolled your eyes but laughed nonetheless.

Noah was about to get in his room when a knock sounded on the door. "Oh, it should be the groceries you mentioned. I'll get it", you called out, but he decided to observe from his door.

You were greeted with Max's smile on the other side of the door, two bags in his hands.

"A special delivery for the lady", he said as he handed you one bag at a time. You saw him looking behind you, noticing Noah there and the atmosphere in the room suddently shifted. Max's smile now more like a grimace. You looked behind you as well and Noah's look was unreadable, but you could see he wasn't happy.

"Didn't I tell you I wanted Caleb to deliver the stuff?", he asked in a clipped tone.

"I know. I'm sorry, sir. He was busy and asked me to do it", Max's smile crumpled completely.

"No, he wasn't. Because I made sure he was free", Noah retorted, angry that he caught him in a lie.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again". You felt uncomfortable in the middle of the two.

"No, it won't. You're dismissed". Max left without saying goodbye and you closed the door behind him, muttering an "ok" under your breath. You had whiplash from the moment you shared with Noah just minutes ago.

When you turned around he had already gotten into his room. You decide you're going to ask him about this later. Or maybe you won't.

While he was in the shower you arranged your things in your room and went to put the groceries away, deciding you were cooking some pasta for dinner. You set aside everything you needed and began to work on the tomato sauce.

It was already dark outside, so the lights were on, casting a beautiful glow on the walls made of wood. The atmosphere was serene and calm inside as you worked around the kitchen. Taking longer than usual because you had to figure out where everything is.

"Ok, give me something to do", Noah walked into the room and stood beside you, hips leaning on the counter. He changed and was now wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. Your mind started to reel about how domestic this all felt. You cooking for him and him being all comfortable around you.

"I think I put away a bottle of red wine. You can crack that open for us", you decided to throw all caution to the wind at this moment.

"Oh yeah. I put that on the list", he tried to act all nonchalant but you knew he did this in purpose.

"Must have been, you're the one who wrote it", you threw back at him, a smirk on your face.

You heard the bottle pop and the clinks of two glasses as he filled them about halfway. He handed one to you and said "a special delivery for the lady", you recalled the words from Max earlier, you stopped stirring the sauce and looked at him woth both eyebrows raised. He had a smug look on his face.

"What? Max seems to have taken a liking to you", it all clicked in your brain when he said this.

"Aaaah, now I know what that was all about", you nodded you head in understanding.

"What?", he sipped on his wine, not able to control the smile spreading on his lips.

"You were jealous", he scoffed in indigination at your words.

"I just thought it was innapropriate that he was flirting with you", he shrugged his shoulders.

"How was it innappropriate?", you asked, curious about what his answer is going to be.

"Because he is here working", you guess you couldn't argue with that, the man was on his job after all. You let a few seconds go by before you spoke again.

"He was not my type so I didn't bother reciprocating the flirting", you looked over at him to gauge his reaction, he didn't let much show so you went on, diverting your gaze because you weren't sure you could say this looking at his eyes. "His hair is too short, his eyes too bright and arms a little bare. If you know what I mean"

Noah hummed in acknowledgment, and said "yeah, I think I know what you mean"

The conversation stilled as you prepared the pasta, putting a pan with water to boil on the stove and Noah set the table.

A few minutes later, dinner was ready and you two sat down to eat.

"So, besides being a nurse, you're a chef as well?", you laughed at his remark. I wasn't lost on you that he didn't call you a dancer or a stripper, but a nurse.

"Please, it's pasta and tomato sauce. Anyone could do it", you brushed it off.

"Probably, but it wouldn't taste as good", you decided you were just going to take his compliment.

A comfortable silence fell over you, like everytime you eat a meal together. When you're both finished he takes both of your plates to the sink and tells you he'll worry about it later.

"Give me a second. I'll be right back", he told you as he went to his room. He left the door open and you heard a rummaging sound, and you wondered what he was doing in there. A few minutes later he comes out with a record player balancing in one arm and a vinyl on his other hand. You gasped. You missed listening to music, service here wasn't good, so your cellphone didn't load most of your songs.

He sat the record player down beside the TV and put the vinyl in, setting the needle in place. You recognized the familiar tune of Easy by the Commodores playing.

He stood from his position and made his way over to you, extending his hand.

"I really don't know how to dance like this", and you were really bad at slow dancing, your feet always tripped over of each other. You were more well-versed in another kind of dancing.

"C'mon, it's just swaying. How hard can it be?", he argued. You decided you were gonna let yourself have this. So you took his hand and stood up. Interlacing your fingers behind his neck, you felt his hands rest on your waist. Not too low and not too high.

He noticed you were letting out a few giggles, he could feel your body shaking a little in his hold. He looked down at you. "Am I really that bad?", you fully laughed now.

"You're really not. It's just funny because you're so tall and I'm totally not", you told him the reason of your giggles.

"I have a solution. Here, put your feet on top of mine and I'll take care of swawing us back and forth"

"What? I'm gonna crush your feet"

"No, you're not. C'mon, just do it. It'll be easier", he insisted and you relented, resting your feet on top of his. It was easier now to entertwine your hands behind his neck. But you noticed you were more pressed into him now, feeling the entirety of his body on you.

He felt firm against you, and your face was closer to his chest as you inhaled his scent, a mixture of his perfume, softener and something inexplicably him. It filled you lungs and went straight to your head. You could say it started to cloud your judgment, but it was already clouded when you fist danced for him.

His hands that were still, started to run up and down your sides, warming your skin through your clothes, and you felt his breath on top of your head, where he was resting his cheek. The moment was calm and peaceful, and his steady heartbeat in your ears proved you that.

You moved your hands to rest on each side if his neck, twirling a strand of hair in your fingers. You stood on your tiptoes and nuzzled your head on his exposed, tattoed neck. You felt him take a deep breath and his skin filled with goosebumps. You went one step ahead and started to ghost your lips over his skin.

"Y/N", his voice was low and just a little bit broken, you hummed in response. His hands traveled lower and settled on the hem of your long sleeved t-shirt, you nodded in consent and felt his large and warm palms make their way underneath, splaying themselves over you, his thumb sligthly tracing the underside of your bra.

"You feel so good", he mumbled in your hair. You detached your lips from his neck to lean back and look at him in the eyes. They were clouded over with lust, but you sensed he was holding back for your sake.

"Noah, kiss me, please. I wanna feel your lips on mine", you whispered, only for himself to hear. One of his hands made their way to rest on the back of your neck. Leaning in, he first kissed one side of your lips, then the other, before pressing them firmly on yours. His hand with a tight hold on your waist.

You deepened the kiss, moving your head to the side, your lips slotting together perfectly. Pulling you tigheter against him, he took advantage of your little gasp to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

Your heavy breaths mingled with each other. Your hands wanted to explore, so you started to run them over the expanse of his chest, slipping under his hoodie and feeling his stomach under your hands.

You had to part your lips due to the intensity of the kiss, catching your breaths. The song was long over and the only thing you could hear was your heart beating in your ribcage.

"Take me to your bedroom", you whispered over his lips.

"You're sure you wanna do this?", he asked you, looking you in the eye, looking for answers.

"Please, I wanna feel you. I need to feel you". In an instant, his hands rested on the back of your thighs, picking you up as you laced your legs around his waist. You let out a yelp, but hid your face on his neck. You felt him giggle at your reaction, and patted your bum a couple of times.

He sat you down on his bed, kneeling in front of you. He stopped for a minute, hands resting on your thighs, just looking at you with his beautiful eyes.

"You're just gonna look at me?", your voice was low, afraid to break the bubble you were both under if you spoke too loud.

"Guess so, I can't seem to stop admiring you", he nuzzled his head on your thighs, leaving little kisses over your pants.

"I'm gonna need you to do more than that", he hummed, hands slipping under your shirt once more, this time he started to pull it up, removing it all together with your help. He pushed you gently to lay on the bed, your arms extended on both of your sides, a content look on your face.

"You look so good all laid out for me like this", he hummed, starting to kiss his way up your stomach, the top of your breasts and all over your neck. You let out soft sighs of appreciation, as he slipped off the straps of your bra to kiss your shoulder. "Take it off", you murmured to him. One of his hands going behind your back to mess with the clasp, undoing it and letting the piece of clothing fall, throwing it unceremoniously to the side.

Both of his hands squeezed your breasts, reveling on the feeling of them under his palms. But he soon replaced them with his mouth, sucking and biting to his heart's content as you threw your head back. When he was satisfied with his ministrations, he moved you up the bed, your head resting on the pillows and his body slotting between yours.

"I think we're a little imbalanced here", you referred to his fully clothed body, making it your goal to grip the hem of his hoodie and slip it off of him.

You wanted to take your time exploring his body, running your fingertips over the lines of his tattoos, kissing over his torso and chest. Looking up at him through your lashes, seeing a look that told you he was never loved on like this before. If it was up to you, he would always be loved like this. It's what he deserves.

He gripped the back of your head and kissed you with passion, your tongues fighting for dominance, even though you didn't put up much of a fight. You let him kiss you just how he wanted. He slipped his hand under your leggings to grasp your ass, making your hips grind, a groan leaving both of your lips in unison.

Sliding it downwards, he started to remove your pants, along with your underwear. As soon as they were off, he kissed his way from your calf to your thighs, finally landing where you needed him the most.

He could tell you were holding your breath in anticipation. "Relax for me, baby girl. This is gonna feel really good", you let out the long breath you were holding in, and felt the first licks of his tongue. Gasping out loud from the sensation he provided.

He started out slow, moving his tongue in circles as he sped up his movements. When he felt you were wet enough, he tentatively placed the tip of his middle finger on your entrance, and he felt your body come down a little, urging him to slip it inside you.

When he finally did it, you moaned out loud at the sensation, using his hair as an anchor and gripping it tightly. He groaned at the feeling. "I'll slip another one in, is that ok?", he asked you, as he moved his hand at a slow pace, inside and out.

"Yes, yes, please", you pleaded and suddently you felt so full, you couldn't help but grind down on his hand. "I'm not lasting much longer", your voice was strained, you were trying to hold your orgasm at bay so you could savor the moment for a bit longer.

"It's ok, you can let go. Make a mess on my fingers, baby. I want you to", he was looking up at you, he needed to see what you looked like coming undone for him. Seconds later, your body started to writhe on the bed, he felt you clench around his fingers. Nothing leaving your lips but broken moans and gasps for air. He worked his fingers for a while longer, before pulling them out and licking them clean. You've never seen something so sinful in your life.

He laid beside you, giving you a minute to catch your breath. "Thank you", you said in a worn voice.

"You don't have to thank me", he lazily brushed his fingers over your stomach, creating random patterns.

"I feel like I do", you admitted. "Not only for this, but for everything. The way you take care of me, the way you worry about me. This all feels a little foreign to me"

He grabbed you by the chin and turned you to look at him. "I know you're grateful. And you better get used to me taking care of you", you kissed him before he could make you feel anymore emotional.

Feeling rested enough, you climbed over his lap, straddling his hips. He still had his sweatpants on, but you could feel him beneath you. Making your way down, you slipped it off of him, making quick work of his boxers as well.

As you were about to grasp him in your hands, he stopped you. "We'll have time for that some other day. Right now I just really need to be inside of you", his hands made their way up to squeeze your breasts, not believing he had you on top of him like this.

You lifted yourself to accomodate him between your legs as you started to slide down. The burn felt so good that you couldn't keep yourself upright anymore, instead, you collapsed on his chest.

"Don't worry, I got you. Lay down on me", he said as he slipped all the way in, stopping for a second before you started to move your hips back and forth. He squeezed your waist tight, stopping your movements.

"Wait a second. I just need a second", he said, breathless, and you chuckled. "You find this funny? Not even three seconds inside of you and I'm almost bursting already", he held no real annoyance in his voice, just finding the situation humourous.

"It is a little funny", you didn't have time to chuckle again when his hips slammed into you with force, silencing you efficiently. He kept his pace as you sat up, tits bouncing with every stroke of his hips. You started to move on your own accord, and he let you do your thing, hips moving in circles over his.

"Yeah, like that. Do that again", he threw his head back, exposing his beautiful neck for you to kiss and bite. You felt his legs shudder and you knew he was close, and you kept up your pace.

"I'm so close. Cum with me, baby", he whispered in your ear, as his hand slipped between your bodies. You could feel yourself letting go, hips stilling and body squirming on top of his. Not long after, Noah found his own release, hips arching upwards as he gripped your ass tight, keeping you both connected as closely as possible, grunts of pleasure filling your ears.

You felt your body relax as you let yourself rest on top of him, feeling all of his body on yours, naked and sweaty. He landed his hand on your hair, stroking softly and whispering how well you did for him.

Finally untangling from each other, you laid beside him, eyes wanting to flutter shut, but you were not ready to stop looking at him yet. You grabbed one of his hand and started to inspect it, fingers grazing over his knuckles.

"What's on your mind?", he asked, a hint of worry making itself known in his voice.

"Just how big your hands are", you said, pulling his hands up and comparing it to yours, "look", you told him in amusement.

He laughed a belly laugh and you smiled, looking at the way his eyes crinkled. He was one of those people who smiled with their eyes. Removing his hand from yours, he enveloped you in his arms, pulling you against him, giving you a soft peck on your lips.

"We need to take a shower", you noted, but made no movement to get up from the bed. Instead, you nuzzled your head further on his neck.

"I know, let's just stay like this for a second", he grabbed the comforter that sat at the end of the bed and pulled it over the both of you.

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[wzrd-wheezes]

Cat and Mouse - Rockstar!Sirius x Reader Smut

AN - hello! this is the first fic im posting in a little while and what better way to come back than with some sirius smut. I'm a little rusty so please forgive me <3

Includes: cocky, arrogant, somewhat toxic sirius. swearing. unprotected sex. choking. slight degradation and just other general filth.

1.2k words.

smut starts under the cut.

“I knew you’d come tonight.” Sirius drawled, shit-eating grin plastered on his face. He handed his guitar to one of the roadies, his skin glistening with sweat from the bright stage lights and made his way over to her. 

“Didn’t have anything better to do.” Y/N said drily, her arms folded over her chest. She purposely tried not to look at him, letting her gaze drift to his bandmates who were packing away the rest of their equipment.  

“Seems like you never have anything better to do,” Sirius taunted, leaning over and smirking at her, “you know, with the number of times that you tell me you’re not coming to see me again, yet every time I play you conveniently have ‘nothing better to do’.”  

“Yet you always put my name on the guestlist.” 

“Because I enjoy this little game we play. The one where you pretend that you’re not bothered about me even though we both know that you are.” 

“I’m the one that’s bothered?” Y/N scoffed, “You’re the one that I get fifteen missed calls off when I don’t show up to your gigs. You’re the one that writes songs about me when I’m not even your girlfriend. But I’m the one that’s bothered?” 

 "You're the one who always shows up at these gigs only to see me and then make out like you don’t care about me." he shot back. "You love the attention I give you. You love the fact that I write about you.” Sirius laughed. 

“You’re a narcissist. You like the fact that I have feelings for you, that I care enough to show up to your concerts.” she spat. 

“Ah, but you love it.” He said, his town teasing as he leaned closer towards her, “I know you do.” 

As if to prove his point, he leaned forward and place one hand gently under her chin, forcing her eyes up towards him. Then, ever so gently, brushed her lips with his, letting the barest hint of a kiss touch her before letting his hand drop.  

Sirius was clearly enjoying himself and it was clear to Y/N that he was just trying to get under her skin. She glared back at him, angry at him for mocking her but at the same time wanting him badly. It was a feeling that both of them had struggled with for a while now, through months of hooking up yet never actually committing to each other.  

He was relentless, always trying his hardest to catch her off guard. All the times when she had resolved to ignore him, he would find a way to worm his way inside her thoughts. If not by words then by gestures; the way his arm would snake round her waist, the way he would rest his hand on her thigh when they were sitting together, the way he would have her pressed against the wall in the quickest flash if he wanted to.  

“We both know why I’m here so why don’t we just cut the bullshit.” Y/N said, deadpan. 

“Because you’re in love with me?”  

“Because you’re a good fuck, Black.” 

Sirius groaned, the air was thick with the tension that had been building between them. A smug smirk plastered itself across his face.  

“And there it is.” he said, looking her up and down, his eyes roaming over her body and then back up to her lips, “I thought we were going to dance around the inevitable for the rest of the night.” 

Sirius grabbed her by the wrist, yanking him towards his dressing room. A boot-clad foot kicked the door open before swiftly pulling her inside and knocking it shut behind him. 

“There’s no fun in being coy with you, sweetheart,” his eyes still locked on her lips, “I’m aware of how this goes. You come to see me, and you pretend you hate me while I try my hardest to get under your skin. Then inevitably, we both get tired of playing this game and you finally let me fuck you like you’ve been longing for all night.” 

He had her pinned against the door now, one of his hands resting just above her head, bracing himself as he towered over her. He smirked, running his fingers down her neck. He loved it when they were like this, how they would both pretend to not be absolutely crazy with desire for each other. It was exciting. A game of cat and mouse that had been going on for far too long.  

His long, slender fingers wrapped around her throat, the cool metal of his rings pressing against her skin. He tightened his grip ever so slightly, enjoying the soft gasp that escaped her lips.  

“You look so pretty like this.” he said, his voice low, “So pretty with my hand around your neck.” 

He dipped his head down, catching her lips in his, teeth clashing together as he roughly kissed her. He groaned into her mouth, his tongue slipping inside, their kisses becoming messy. His hands found the back of her thighs, lifting her up so that her legs wrapped around his waist.  

Hastily, he carried her over to the dressing table, putting her down on top of it, her back resting against the mirror. Y/N quickly removed her shirt, Sirius unbuttoning and sliding off her trousers as she did. He dragged her to the edge of the table, roughly spreading her legs.  

“You know you love this, don't you?” he teased, his breath hot and heavy as it fanned over her face, “You love that you’re mine.” 

Sirius’s hands were rough and unrelenting, he was unable to hold himself back, the pair of them far too eager to take it any slower.  

“Stop teasing and just fuck me already.” Y/N said, already breathless.  

Wordlessly, he shoved his jeans down, letting them hang low on his hips. He wasted no time, quickly lining himself up with her, plunging in without given her a second to adjust. A ragged moan escaped her lips, earning a smile from Sirius.  

“I’m the only one that gets to make you make those pretty noises,” he grunted, his hips snapping against hers, “No one can fuck you better than I can, can they?” 

Unable to form a coherent response, she just shook her head, her eyes screwed shut in pleasure. 

“Answer me properly.” 

“N-no.” she gasped, “No one fucks me better than you.” 

That was all the fuel he needed to keep going. He grabbed her forcefully, repositioning her so that she was bent over on the dressing table with him behind her. 

“Want you to look at yourself in the mirror,” he ordered, “Want you to see how desperate and needy you are for me, how good I make you feel.”  

His fingers wove into her hair, adjusting her head so that she had no choice but to stare at their reflection. It was like a high for him, watching her stare at herself in the mirror, taking in her bruised lips and smudged makeup. 

Sirius slammed into her, his grunts mixing with her moans as he chased his own release. He felt her clench around him and he stared thrusting harder, deeper.  

“That’s it. Look at yourself as you cum for me.” he encouraged, “such a little slut for me.” 

Y/N came with a loud moan, her body going slack. Sirius held her up against him as his thrusts got sloppy, his own orgasm quickly approaching. He groaned as he came inside her, panting as he pulled out.  

“So, when’s your next gig?”  

[azulock]

I almost lost this thing due to a keyboard mishap, saved by the dedicated ctrlz button on my wacom, thanking my tablet for this save. anyway I'm pretty sure someone has done this concept already but two cakes rule apply, more is better.

summary. Reo shouldn't be fucking Nagi's girlfriend to begin with, he knew, but when his best friend was such a garbage boyfriend he couldn't help but fill in the void. now, cumming inside the girl unprotected, that was dangerous - and hot. pairing. Mikage Reo x F!reader

wordcount. 1,3k

warnings.nsfw (minors back off), cheating, unprotected sex, cumshot, a bit of breeding kink at the end

right?

Reo Mikage who indulges in how it feels to have you cheating on Nagi with him. it's a sick pleasure, something sadistic about being the one you turn to relive your frustration from dating his aloof best friend. truth be told, Nagi could be an annoyance even for him - so for Reo it could feel like getting back something he was owed.

and he definitely felt like he was owed, what with how many times he'd had to step in as mediator to save Nagi from his own fuckups in your relationship. Reo for sure deserved every second he'd spend in your folds not too long afterward. if he was putting so much work to salvage this whole thing, might as well reap the benefits.

it always started with you coming to complain to him about something. way back in the beginning, Reo would just listen and console you, all the while thinking how did such a pretty thing get stuck in a situation like this. sometimes he thought you'd just be better alone, that you should leave Nagi, but you just never managed to. and who was him to judge, he'd thought the same thing about himself and never found the strength to get rid of the guy either.

so if you are stuck, might as well be stuck together.

overtime, his hidden lust for you grew - he was just a guy after all, and you were hot. it filled him until, one day, it exploded. you were half drunk, just tipsy enough to get talkative, more so than usual, and you let it slip how frustrated you were. Nagi hadn't been pleasuring you properly, and that left you terribly pent up. well, Reo just couldn't stand for that.

on the morning after that first night, when he woke up by your side, that's when the sick pleasure took root. when you woke up - regret and worry painted on your face - Reo said he'd take full responsibility if Nagi ever discovered. but you both could just stay quiet, keep this one time fuckup a secret. you nodded, swore that this as a mistake, it would never happen again.

it took barely over a month for you two to have sex again. it was the same song and dance it would be for the next handful of times. honestly, he thought that after the fourth time even Nagi would notice, but he didn't. so Reo continued, and told himself he was still just consoling you, only his methods had changed. if he couldn't fix the problem - and god knows he tried - he could at least medicate the symptom.

maybe Reo couldn't take your headaches away, but he could at least soothe them by flushing your body with pleasure. soothe them by burying his face into you until the only name you knew was his own. by sheathing himself into your walls until there was nothing left but the pleasure. and it worked for him too, pleasure washing everything away until all he could focus on was the feeling of your body around his.

it was sinful, really, this mix of the pleasure from your wet walls taking him in so eagerly, with knowing he was doing something so wrong. the thrill was a powerful aphrodisiac, this little taste of revenge chasing his senses like a drug. to have you completely breathless and dumb under him - in ways he knew his Nagi didn't - it left Reo high and thirsty for more. even if he had spent most of the night fucking you already.

you'd arrived at his doorstep tired and teared up, but it didn't take long for you to be crying for a whole other reason. he couldn't leave bruises on your body - you had to keep it a secret, after all - but he could leave you stretched out and light headed. your body fucked out and brain fuzzy from the multiple orgasms. Reo was feeling his own mind slip, he'd fucked you three times already since the night began - hell, it was probably past midnight by now. maybe he should've stopped now that the condoms ended.

"a-ah... R-Reo!" ah, but how could he when you moaned his name so prettily. it made him want you even more, and he didn't think he could stop his hips if he wanted to. not with the way your walls sucked in him, warm body crushed against the mattress under his weight. oh, yeah, Reo couldn't stop if he wanted to. besides, the thrill just made it feel better - and it would be fine. right?

he nips and licks at your neck, where his head is buried. Reo could see the wet spots near your face from where you had been drooling. god, you were so hot when your brain shut down. the more he fucked into you the more he could feel you shake and whimper under him until he finally feels you snap, pussy milking him desperately.

shit, he was already sensitive, hyper aware of everything around him - the sweat pooling between your bodies, the warmth from your skin, the tiniest noises coming from you. your orgasm had him in overdrive, the way your pussy clenched around his cock making him shudder and grunt. Reo could feel his own orgasm coming, his thrusts becoming erratic as he moved faster and faster.

he is chasing something he knows he shouldn't, treading the line to something that could be very bad - but the thrill, oh it drove him mad. it would be fine, it would be fine. so long as Reo kept his damn self control and came out of your soft, drenching pussy, it would be fine. he could endure a few more thrusts before pulling out and it would work out fine - right?

his body moved faster and faster, sinking his hips into you with wave like motions, pleasure burning up his insides. it was too good, way too good, pulling him ever closer to the edge. just a couple thrusts and he'd pull out - that's what he promised himself, but when you breathlessly moaned out his name again, he couldn't help it. fuck, this was wrong, Reo knew, but it felt so damn good.

with a last powerful thrust, he buries his cock deep into your soft cunt, keeping his hips snug against your ass, going as far into you as he could. Reo's orgasm rocked his body and made him see stars as his throbbing dick flooded your pussy with his cum, pumping rope after rope of his thick white jizz into you until he felt some of it spilling out.

shit. shit, shit, shit. now, this wasn't good. cumming inside his best friend's girlfriend wasn't in Reo's plans, but the worst part was:, he couldn't say it felt bad. because it didn't. it felt too damn good. despite how wrong it was, despite the dangers, it felt way too good. that small, sadistic glee only burning more intensely.

you were still too fucked out and hazy to realize just what had happened. or at least the full extent of it. you two had never fucked without a condom and Reo knew you definitely wouldn't let him cum inside you. the danger was too great, what if he got you pregnant? now that wouldn't be good.

so, why did a part of him like the idea? why did a part of him want to go again, to try and roll the dice, to put a baby inside his best friend's girlfriend - when Reo knew damn well he'd be over at your house tomorrow to try and mend your relationship again. shit, this wasn't good. but you two would deal with it in the morning. and even if you got pregnant, he was sure he could find a way to make this work. right?

[beauty-brains-braun]

Cravings

18+ *only* minors DNI

DUB-CON! Mind the TWs.

Wherein Sukuna gets tired of watching you dancing with another man and takes control from Yuji to let you know who you belong to.

Pairings: Sukuna/fem reader

Tags/TW:  Smut, Aged-Up Characters, Penis In Vagina Sex, Rough Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Face Slapping, Biting, Spanking, Dubious Consent, Hair-pulling, Choking, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Pet Names, Name-Calling, Creampie, Canon Divergence

You smirked across the table at your best friend as he took another shot. Yuji was getting his ass kicked in the drinking game the both of you had been playing all night. He was on shot number 9 to your 2. You felt nothing more than a slight buzz but he was having trouble focusing on anything.

“I think it’s time to name her the winner,” Megumi says with a grimace, sliding Yuji a glass of water while Nobara laughs.

Yuji groans, sliding the water away. “I don’t need water, I need pizza and for Sukuna to be quiet for two minutes.”

“Kunaaa” you sang teasingly, always a little more bold and a lot less smart when you were buzzed. Not that you’d ever been accused of making the best decisions in the first place.

A mouth appeared on Yuji’s cheek. “Don’t address me like that” Sukuna snaps.

“Somebody’s grumpy. Why are you bothering Yuji tonight? I’m trying to have a nice time.” You pout at him and he growls back at you.

Yuji slaps his hand over the mouth and gives you an exasperated look. “Stop talking to him, it makes him worse.”

“Maybe a shot would make him more fun” you say, holding a tequila shot out in the direction of the mouth that had appeared on Yuji’s hand.

“I’m being serious” Yuji takes the shot from you and downs it, looking miserable. “The shit he says about you…” he trails off.

You laugh waving him off. “Stop being so grumpy and lighten up, the both of you or I'm going to find better company to occupy my night.” Your eyes slid towards a man who’d already asked to buy you a drink at the bar earlier and your lips tilted up in a smirk when you found him still eying you.

Yuji groans again, resting his head on the table “Don't be so mean to me, the sky is singing and I can't handle it right now”

“That’s called music.” Nobara said, rolling her eyes.

“At least I still have you two” you smiled brightly, sliding a shot across to her and Megumi who grimaced and slid it away.

“Not for long, I've got to get to bed soon.”

You start to protest when the guy from earlier appears at your side again.

“Do you wanna dance?” He asked.

You glanced over at Yuji who still had his head down on the table. He was probably done for the night so why not have one little dance? Nobara was smirking at you when you met her eyes and gave you a little “go ahead” nod.

Decision made, you took the guy's hand and let him pull you onto the floor.

Five songs later and you were still dancing, the guy grinding against you and beginning to suggest you both get out of there. He was cute, but not that cute. You looked over at the table you'd been sitting at with your friends and found it vacant. They must have all gone home, leaving you to your fun.

You met the guy’s eyes, considering leaving with him but deciding against it, excusing yourself to the bathroom instead. You should probably get home yourself soon, you had to be up early for work and needed to get some rest. You had an assignment with Gojo and your former teacher would be exhausting enough without you adding an all-nighter to it.

The door opened behind you as you were washing your hands and you looked up, seeing Yuji in the mirror. He’d turned and was locking the door.

“What are you doing in the women’s bathroom, I thought you'd gone home?” Something about him was off. His energy seemed-

The realization hit you the same time the panic did, seconds before Sukuna turned and smiled at you.

“Sukuna, what did you do to Yuji?” You asked, backing up until you back pressed against the sink as he prowled closer.

“The boy can't hold his liquor. And I can't hold my temper. I’ve been watching you dance with that maggot all night like a slut.”

“Don’t call me a slut” you snapped, anger overtaking your common sense. Maybe you'd gotten too use to mouthing off to him, knowing he was trapped inside Yuji's body. Except right now he wasn't.

“Can’t handle the truth, my little monster?” Sukuna said the last part almost endearingly. He'd called you that before and it always sounded like he meant it to be some sort of compliment.

Fire heated your gaze as you glared at him, but he just chuckled, reaching out a hand to caress your face.

“I will have that fire that burns within you. I will have it wrapped around my cock.”

Your mouth gaped open at the words and you couldn’t stop the tremble of fear that shuddered through you as Sukuna stepped even closer, pressing you against the sink.

“I’ve watched you for years. Teasing, testing, always wanting a taste but never having a chance. Until now.” His gaze burned with desire and you swallowed hard, pretending that your nipples hadn’t hardened into peaks where his chest had pressed against your own in his nearness.

“Sukuna, please-” you started but he cut you off, bringing his mouth down to meet your own and you were on fire. The kiss felt like hell and heaven coming together as one and you felt yourself weaken against the King of Curses.

You didn’t protest when his lips left your own and began trailing down your throat, occasionally biting and sucking so hard you knew you’d have trouble explaining them tomorrow. You didn’t protest as his firm hand on your shoulder urged you to your knees and you wished you could say you didn’t open your mouth eagerly for him as he guided his cock into your warm, waiting mouth.

Your tongue searched for the head immediately and you savored the salty taste of his precum as he began to thrust in and out of your mouth, grunting softly whenever he hit the back of your throat. Your knees dug into the tile beneath you but you barely noticed, losing yourself in the sounds of Sukuna fucking your throat.

You flattened your tongue and relished the low growl he let loose as you let your tongue dance up and down the slit in his cock when he pulled back. He gripped your hair and pulled you to your feet by its roots, sending a shiver of need coursing through your body as you forced yourself to your feet and let him turn you around.

You felt his left hand grip your hip tight, bending you over the sink as his right pushed your dress up, leaving you exposed and bare to him.

Sukuna let out a growl of both desire and irritation. “You tell me not to call you a slut, but look at you. Coming here. Wearing that little slip of a dress with nothing underneath. Pretending that torturing us isn’t your favorite game.”

You opened your mouth to protest but what came out was a yelp when the King of Curses hit your ass hard enough to sting.

“Filthy little slut” he growled right in your ear, low and almost feral.

“Sukuna, please don’t do this.” You begged, trying to ignore how wet you were but sure he could see you glistening.

He spanked you again and your pussy pulsed with need. ”Shut your mouth, If I wanted to hear words come from it, I wouldn’t have filled it with my cock. Unless you want me to choke you on it?” He trailed off sounding thoughtful and you felt yourself clench at the idea, the salty taste of him still on your tongue.

“Stop pretending you don’t want this. That it isn’t what you dreamt about and wished for every time you goaded me.” He spanked you again and again until you were biting your tongue to hold in your moans.

Sukuna let out a harsh laugh and you jumped when you felt his finger running through your folds.

You looked down, avoiding his gaze in the mirror as you felt your face heat with shame. There was no hiding how wet you were. No hiding how much your body craved this even as your thoughts still raced with panic.

“You belong to us, my pretty monster. My pretty slut.” Sukuna said into your ear as he moved behind you and replaced the finger he’d been running through your folds with his cock. “Let me make sure you don’t forget that.” He plunged into you in one swift thrust and you cried out at the sudden fullness.

He was big, filling you up so thoroughly you almost couldn’t breathe. And that was before he began to move. Sukuna didn’t start slow. He fucked into you without mercy. Pleasure overroad every one of your senses, especially the common one, and you lost yourself in it. Your moans were so loud anyone standing outside the bathroom door was sure to hear but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. When your orgasm hit you, Sukuna chuckled low in your ear, grabbing you by the hair and forcing you to watch yourself fall apart for him in the mirror over the bathroom sink..

“Do you think you would have gotten this from that boy you were out there dry humping?” He asked derisively, somehow managing to make the word “boy” the most offensive sounding word to exist. “No, baby, you wouldn’t and just so we’re clear, I will rip the eyes of the next little weasel to look at you from his head and shove them down his throat. Understood?” You didn’t answer but your pussy clenched tight around him and he chuckled. “That right there is why I call you my little monster. You can’t help but be excited by my darkness. Drawn to it, even.”

You shuddered, protests dying on your lips as he pulled your hips back into him and the change in angle sent him even deeper. Something you wouldn’t have thought possible. The sink was digging into you and your ass stung every time his body thrust forward against you, but the pain felt so good.

You’d let your head drop again, eyes practically rolling back in your head from the pleasure, but Sukuna released your hip to grab to your throat, jerking you back up to meet his eyes in the mirror. “Eyes on me. I won’t let you forget who’s giving you this pleasure. Who’s ruining you for everyone else. Who this pussy was made for.” He squeezed your throat tightly and you felt another orgasm approaching.

He let out a small hiss of pleasure when your walls tightened around him. “That’s right. Cum on my cock, precious.” He released his grip on your throat so he could hear you cry out as you came, then brought his mouth to your neck and bit down hard, marking you.

“Fuck!” You shuddered again. Never before had anything felt good as this moment did. You should still be terrified. You should be fighting back. You shouldn’t be craving every thrust of his hips, craving every one of his burning touches that set your very soul on fire. You shouldn’t be pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts eagerly.

“You’re doing so well,” he praised. His voice sounded different. Less controlled and almost strained.

His breathing had become erratic as well and you kept your eyes on him, realizing how close he was to falling apart with you.

“So well.” He repeated, nibbling on your neck again. His thumb pressed into your clit suddenly and you heard a breathy whine come out of your mouth before you’d realized you even made the sound.

“You gonna cum one more time for me, my darling slut?” He asked, drawing circles on your clit with his thumb.

You whined again and shook your “I can’t. ‘S too much”.

He chuckled, low and dark right in your ear. “Come on. You can do better than that.” His other hand found your breast underneath your dress and you felt a mouth clamp down on your nipple. He’d added another mouth to his hand.

“Oh god,” you cried.

Sukuna let your breast go suddenly, grabbing your chin tight.

“My name.” He said angrily. “Only mine.”

You didn’t respond. Didn’t think you could.

Sukuna released your chin to slap you. “My. Name.” He said, snapping his hips in time to the words.

“Sukuna” you breathed.

He snapped his hips again and you felt the pressure that had been growing in your snap.

“Sukuna” you said again, far louder this time, as you clamped down on his cock, your orgasm milking him until he was spilling inside you, filling you up. He kept thrusting into you until he had nothing left to spill, the bathroom falling silent except for the sound of both of your heavy breathing.

He was still inside you when reached for your chin again and turned your head to him. “You did so well” he told you, then his mouth met yours in a slow passionate kiss. You felt him pull out of you and his release sliding down your thighs. He pulled away to watch and repeated “so well” quietly to you. You couldn’t stop the somersault your stomach did at his words of praise and the self-satisfaction that covered his face.

Sukuna’s eyes left the mess between your thighs and he looked back in the mirror, smirking at his reflection. “Told you to make a move, brat.”

Your whole body was already aching as you watched Sukuna’s tattoos fade and you were left to have what was sure to be the most awkward conversation you'd ever had with your best friend.

So much for getting some rest.

[uhdrienne]

𝐦é𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞 •°. *࿐

🎻 feat: violinist!jun x violinist!reader, victorian era, enemies to lovers (kind of)

🎻 warnings: mentions of physical abuse (not explicit), mentions of cheating (but no one cheated)!!! not the best e2l i'm very sorry

🎻word count: ~11k

🎻 summary: in an era of music and dance, of dukes and arranged marriages, there is only one man whom you fight tooth and nail to play at the same tempo as -- legendary violinist wen junhui. people fall over themselves to dance to a song he plays, and festivities from all over the land request the pleasure of his attendance.

portraits are painted, praises sung of him, but you've only ever known him as your stiffest competition, in a society where outstanding women are frowned upon, reduced to mere puppets in the shadow of men. yet, amid domineering voices and too-loud presences, you have no option but to understand that he was the melody that played his way into your heart.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1870, November 11th

"Your Grace," You reach for the Duchess' outstretched hand as you exit the carriage, your other hand lifting your gown, the horses skittering as they reach a complete stop.

"My dear Y/N! It has been too long since you have graced our court," The Duchess seems pleased to meet you as she clutches your hand tightly, you squeezing it in return.

"It has been long," You agree. "It is an honour to play for the annual ball once more."

"Nonsense!" She trills a laugh, her hand coming up to cover herself. "Truly, it is our greatest blessing to be able to hear your music."

You smile in gratitude as she leads you towards the palace. "Thank you, Your Grace. I'm looking forward to performing for you as well."

"I'll have someone send up your bags to your rooms," She adds, continuing to walk you in. "The estate is busy today, what with the company we're having... and the two greatest violinists of our time!"

Your smile freezes on your face. It can't be, it's not possible--

"Of course, we're not expecting Sir Wen Junhui just yet, but I like the staff to be well-prepared-"

Wen Junhui. Of course, it had to be him.

"My dear? Are you alright?" The Duchess asks you, concern on her face. "I didn't have you just now."

"My apologies, Your Grace," You immediately say, a smile plastered on your face. "I...I must have been tired. Carriage journeys have never really been my preference."

"Of course, how could I forget!" The duchess sighs, before turning to the servants trailing behind. "Ensure Miss Y/N has everything she needs. She must be in tip-top condition for the ball." At the servants' bow, she turns back to you. "I must return to the preparations," she tells you. "Will you be alright heading to your rooms by yourself? The servants will lead you."

"Of course, Your Grace," You curtsy. "You really didn't have to lead me in, it was too much trouble. Please, I wish not to disturb you further."

Again, her tinkling laugh. "What words! You could never be a trouble to me, my dear friend."

You bid your farewell and as she leaves, the servants motioning to lead you to your chambers.

You shake your head lightly as you resume the walk. Wen Junhui, in the same place as you. What luck.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"You two surely have met, given your professions," The Duke tells you as he beckons to a tall man you know all too well. "It is my understanding that you both played for His Majesty's coronation the previous year."

"Indeed we did," His velvet-like voice, thinly masking his hostility, returns. "It was charming to be in her company."

"As if." Your mutter, thankfully, goes unheard by the Duke. Junhui, however, picks up on it, what with those sensitive ears of his that supposedly make him an oh-so-amazing violinist, and raises his eyebrows at you.

The Duke excuses himself soon after to find his wife, which leaves you and Junhui standing alone. His waistcoat, laced with what you recognise to be one of the finest silks in the market, rustles with his movement as he turns and faces you properly.

He bows to you in mock politeness. "My pleasure to be in your delightful company once more, Miss L/N."

You roll your eyes. "Skip the formality, for our sakes."

Amusement laces his cat-like features. "If you say so, treasure." The term of endearment stirs more irritation in you.

The hostility between you two dated back to your teens. Fresh out in the world and eager for opportunity, you tried to become the court violinist in the royal orchestra, to prove yourself not just as a talent but as a woman, only to be turned away with the memo that a violinist had already been chosen, the only one the court was looking for, and it had been Junhui, all lanky limbs but with the fervour of a highly determined seventeen-year-old.

And at the birthday celebration of a royal you didn't remember, for which your family watched from the gates, you heard him play for the very first time. The symphony the orchestra had played, the seamless chords and semiquavers that had flowed from his relentless fingers on the strings, and the firm press of the glowing horsehair of his bow had impressed every person in the audience. Except for you.

No, you were bitter, so, so, bitter, that the one chance you had strived for your whole life had been taken from right through your fingers.

From then on, you had been known, amongst many in your small town, not very kindly, to be the "young lady who had dared to pit herself against Wen Junhui".

Your mother and father had taken the remarks in shame, beginning to discourage you from pursuing music. Yet, you had taken no heed, continuing to find all ways to continue what had become your lifeline.

And as he soared, both in skill and in fame, to become the most popular violinist of the age, you worked equally hard at your art, staining your fingers with cuts and your wrists with injury as you strived to reach his heights.

And you had run into luck, for an academy run by a sharp-tongued man scouted you at a performance at your local church. Before long, you were on the stage, flitting from event to celebration, just as you dreamed. You played concertos and partitas to your heart's content, did opening acts for renowned orchestras, and headlined the stage in the courts of various nations, eager to keep climbing the ladder towards the goal that was Junhui.

But no matter your greviances, you truly enjoyed the stage. It was everything you had. You took pride in your work, you blushed at compliments, and you appreciated every chance there was to step on the stage and perch the four-stringed instrument on your shoulder.

Then came the day when you met your competitor for the very first time, performing at a gala held for a local lord. He'd looked at you, no doubt recognising you based on the gossip circulating around, and raised an eyebrow in teasing recognition before shaking his head and simply turning away. No formalities were exchanged, even though you were fully intending to be civil.

From then on, you both maintained a stoic but unspoken rivalry, making sniping remarks when you had the misfortune of meeting. Yet, years after it all started, here he was, standing in front of you, on a stage you would soon share.

And as luck would have it, a courtier walked over. Park, you remembered his last name with some effort. He had been the first to object when the court invited you to play at this ball. The papers had published his account of why you shouldn't be involved (boringly long, you thought).

"My, my, if it isn't the two legends of our time," He drawled, in a voice that grated on your nerves. "I must say, having you both on the same stage is rather...shocking."

Junhui raises his brows. "And what prompted that belief?"

"Oh, but doesn't everyone know of your rivalry, sir! Years upon years of competition of talent."

You let out a light laugh, leaning forward to the smug courtier to jest. "And which of us would you prefer, sir?"

His smirk is nothing short of hateful, you decide, when he replies, "Captivating as your music is, my charming lady, I find Sir Wen Junhui's music simply...breathtaking. Perhaps a fine man, bestowing his heavenly talents upon us all, is much welcomed now."

Junhui's smirk is even more hateful, you determine when he walks past you, Courtier Park in tow, his hand raising to pat your shoulder, which you brush off roughly, saying under his breath, "Better luck next time. Looks like you won't be playing in his court any time soon."

"Rot in hell."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"Oh, how wonderful that you both will be sharing the stage this time!" The Duchess claps her hand in appreciation after each of you plays excerpts of your performance pieces.

"It's an honour," Junhui replies, bowing low. You curtsey, noting the way the Duke nods at Courtier Park after.

"Refresh yourselves," The Duke instructs. "We will see you at the celebrations. We're looking forward to both of your performances."

You can't bring yourself to look interested when Junhui turns to you. "As am I." The smug, arrogant twinkle in his eyes does not go amiss.

You curtsey once more and at the couple's nods, stride out of the room, Junhui behind you.

"The Divertimento No.17 by Mozart," He muses. "A fitting choice. You always liked the cheer."

"And you could only dream of appreciating them."

"Snippy as ever, treasure," Junhui answers patronisingly, as easy as counting.

"Yes, well, you are no different from the last time we met," You reply coldly, turning a corner. "Stop following me."

"Our rooms are nearby, treasure," He drawls, leaning against the wall. "Remind me again why you're being so delightful?"

"Why, huh," You sneer back, turning to face him. "Where to start? Why are you even here?"

"Why am I here?" He echoes. "My dear, I was invited. As were you. Through our wonderful years of being around each other, you would know I dislike performing for the royals. I agreed because I owed His Grace a favour."

"Of course you did," You mutter. "Well, I'll get going. Go find your next person to terrorise, you take joy in that anyway."

His chuckles go on as you walk off, the skirts of your dress fanning out behind you.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

Notes, one after another, flow like water out of his bow, in rapid semiquavers and strong crotchets, chords easing through the strings as easy as the alphabet.

You can't deny Wen Junhui is a phenomenal performer.

It's two waltzes before your piece comes up, and the guests of the ball are mingling, filling in dance cards, getting to know one another. You see a few familiar faces, ladies of society whom you'd seen on other occasions. The Duke and the Duchess took the dance floor earlier, and are now nursing glasses of carefully brewed liquor, laughing and entertaining.

The head of the estate's entertainment announces your appearance, and you step up in front of the orchestra. At your cue, the piano launches into the familiar cheerful chord.

And off you go from there. You laser-focus yourself on every note, the vibrato you'd honed to perfection. And thankfully, all goes without a hitch, leading to resounding applause as people break away from their dance partners.

The Duchess bustles to you after you bow and get down. "My dear, that was magical."

"Oh," You smile at her gushing compliment. "Thank you. I enjoyed myself."

"And so you should," The Duke encourages, walking up next to his wife. "What a stunning job you've done."

The Duchess hums in agreement before exclaiming. "Right! I was coming to say, the governors want you and Sir Wen Junhui to dance together."

You stiffen. "I'm sorry?"

“As a sign of goodwill,” The Duke says. “Not very customary, given that you have no real ties to each other, but we think it would be nice. Not to mention, you both ought to loosen up and enjoy yourselves tonight. Do you not agree?”

You’re about to politely decline, but an arm slides around your arm and tugs you closer. Just a little. “Of course we do. Thank you for the offer, Your Grace.” Junhui nods at the beaming couple.

The Duchess smiles at you as her husband nods, satisfied and ready to help her to the dance floor again. “Enjoy yourselves.”

“I—”

“Hush,” Junhui croons as he sweeps you into his arms and across the floor in an elegant turn, the beginning notes of another popular waltz playing out. “We are meant to revel. Look at the atmosphere we’ve created. We ought to enjoy the fruition of our work, no?”

“Shut up.”

He smirks slightly at you. “As you please. You’re not a bad dancer, I see.”

You curse silently. In the distraction of the banter, your feet had automatically stepped alongside his, rhythmically and physically attuned as one — one body and one being.

Heavens, you hated it.

“Fall silent at praises?” He raises his brows.

You snort. “Why should I if it comes from you?”

He gasps in mock hurt. “You wound me, truly.”

“Oh, forgive me,” You simper, a sweet smile on your face. “Whatever should I do with that information?”

And back and forth it went again, till the last cadenza played. His confident and suave digs, your sarcastic and impatient snipes.

He lets go of you as the crowd starts mingling again, and smiles. “It was a pleasure. We’ll meet again.”

He presses a kiss to the back of your palm, winks and disappears into the throng, leaving you looking appalled at your hand.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1871, January 17th

“You want me to what?”

“Keep your voice down,” Your father urges.

“Oh, forgive me for being surprised that you’re marrying me off.”

“Daughter,” He says sternly, putting down his paper. “It’s Merchant Park’s son. A finely educated, young man. You will not do any worse with him. At the very least, it would make you seem more like the desired lady you are.”

“And what of my music?” You demand. “I have to put a stop to my dreams? On your order?”

“Dear,” Your mother cautions, then addresses your father. “Husband, we should tell her the truth. The deal is signed, anyway.”

Deal. You’re being sent to some stranger over a deal.

“We are not doing well, you know this,” Your father explains.

“I have told you, the commissions I get from the Lords and the palace—”

Your father holds up his hand. “Let me finish.”

“We need help to keep our estate and our rights,” He continues. “Merchant Park has very kindly provided a deal for us: a monetary exchange in return for a bride. As Mr. Nathaniel Park has proved himself a true man, we saw no reason to turn down such a win-win offer: a groom for our daughter and enough to sustain us.”

You clench your fists. “And you didn’t think to ask my opinion on all this? When I am the one to marry?”

Your father eyes you. “Daughter, things in other households are far worse. Some do not even know until the night before the matrimony. You might consider yourself lucky.”

You look to your mother, but she trains her eyes on her tea and doesn’t reply.

A painful lump forms in your throat. “Is there no other way?”

Your father shakes his head. “Not one as beneficial as this.”

“And will it ensure prosperity and stability for the rest of your days?”

He nods. “We will do much better than before.”

You blow out a resigned breath. “When will it be?”

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1871, March 1st

Church bells ring, shouts are heard.

You marry Mr Nathaniel Park in the nearest church to his estate. It has been the talk of the town, and throngs have turned up to see a wealthy merchant's son marry a talent of the nation.

Everyone, except for your families, seem to be under the impression that you had been seeing each other in secret for years, and had finally emerged to take the next step.

It’s all nonsense, every last detail, but the very same nonsense made it to the papers by next morning.

You leave your family home that night to start your life with Nathaniel.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1874, June 28th

You were bored out of your mind.

Your violin was locked up goodness knows where, and Nathaniel had explicitly said he had no intention of letting you return to the stage as a career.

It had killed you a little inside, but it was to little surprise. Men like Nathaniel and his equally unbearable father were common. And you had fully expected to be controlled and restricted in return for your family’s benefit.

Except you had severely underestimated how much time the violin occupied. With nothing to do and only so much overseeing of the estate you could do, you were about to go insane.

Worse, Nathaniel had been in a dark mood as people in the streets had started gossiping.

Because while Wen Junhui had continued to travel far and wide to showcase his talents, his rival (yes, you) had suddenly stopped doing the same — so suddenly that it was downright suspicious.

And your temporary reprieve came when an invite for a local lord’s ball came by the estate. In it, it urged for both your attendance and a a suggestion for you to perform. It seemed like a good chance for Nathaniel to turn the tide and assure society that you were still fulfilling your dream, and to quell any rumours.

Your fingers were rusty, so it was to your shock when Nathaniel allowed you to play and practice for a couple of hours.

“For the ball,” He warned. “Only for the ball. I cannot have people speculating why my wife has suddenly stopped performing publicly.”

It was better than nothing, you surmise.

And so it is to your greatest pride that you stand once again on the stage, performing a sonata you’d long since learnt by heart, the guests clapping and in awe.

And after you get off the stage, you use the start of yet another dance to allow yourself to be whisked away by your husband. But your impatience returns once you see who your dance partner is.

“I thought I’d come keep you company since it has been a while,” Wen Junhui smiles lazily at you as he captures your hand in his. “Congratulations are in order, I see.”

You shrug.

“Funny how the papers said you’d been seeing each other for a long while. A secret dalliance, did that paperboy say? Wonder where that came from.”

"Be quiet."

He does not, in fact, keep quiet.

“Dashing man,” He nods towards your husband, who is doing an awful job of hiding his scowl at you dancing with another. “Tell him to loosen up and smile a little. After all, his wife is the star of tonight.”

“Shut up.”

“Not proud of your matrimony?” He has a saccharine tone which you decide you really hate.

“You know nothing.”

“Huh.” His grin drops, no longer pleasant, as you take another turn around the floor, falling perfectly into place with other dancers. “Someone is snippy today.”

“Would you please stop?” You demand hotly. It’s not as if you would admit right this second that this marriage was what you want. “If you have nothing genuinely good to say, why don’t you—”

"Oh, so you want me to be quiet, huh?"

His eyes are now suddenly simmering with both mild anger and something else, perhaps impatience. With that same burning expression on his face, he grips your hand and hauls you toward him.

The abrupt and rough action makes you release a squeak of surprise, and his other hand catches your head in time to adjust it on his chest.

You struggle. "We are in public! Unhand me this instant!"

"I told you, be quiet."

"What?!"

"Be quiet and listen," He demands, pressing your head to his chest, using the throng of dancers and people to hide you from Nathaniel. "Listen and tell me what you hear."

You scowl up at him. "Is this a joke?"

"What do you hear?"

"Your heartbeat, like a normal living person?" You snarl. "What more is there?"

"Listen again."

After a brief pause, you ask him, "Why is it racing?"

He glares at you. "Exactly."

"What do you mean, exactly? That was not even my questi-"

"My God, use your brain for once," He sighs impatiently. "If I truly hated you, would I have picked you as my dance partner? Would I have offered you my company and my well-wishes? Would I, Y/N?"

"W-what do you mean?"

"Forget it," he snarls, biting his lip in impatience. "Go and be with your husband. Last I heard, he was looking for your whereabouts." He strides away, leaving you stunned.

And even as Nathaniel meets you and berates you for leaving his side, and as you get back into the homebound carriage with him, your mind stays only on Junhui.

If I truly hated you, would I have picked you as my duet partner?Would I have offered you my company and my well-wishes?

Would I, Y/N?

You lean your head on the back of the carriage, the lights of the city wide awake, even with the lateness of the hour, your mind whirling with thoughts you didn't know were true.

His racing heartbeat, your racing mind. He didn't hate you. The real question now was... did you hate him? Still?

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1874, September 4th

It's a rainy afternoon when everything falls apart. Nathaniel is in a horrible mood, and you're about to lose your mind.

No music, since he took it away from you once you got home. No money to seek any kind of entertainment, since he's in charge of the estate's finances. You can't even go out on a ride, since he's ordered the footmen to keep you within the property.

“What’s going on between you and Mr. Wen?” You look up at his seething question as he strides in and throws the morning paper down on the table in front of you. “It has been months and columns are still writing about you two!”

“What am I supposed to do, tell the writers to stop?” You ask drily, and a sudden strong fist grabs your arm and a blunt impact is unceremoniously struck to your face.

You freeze, blood running cold.

Nathaniel doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest that he just hit his wife.

He grunts in displeasure. “Heavens, I’ll have to explain these articles to our family again.” He makes a tutting sound at you and strides out of the room, massaging his hand and rotating his wrist.

Amidst everything, the painful swell of your cheek and arm, the humiliation you feel, and the anger that courses through you, you can only think of one thing.

One person.

And so Junhui has the shock of his life when you turn up, panting and soaked in the downpour, at the gates of his estate. Your fine gown is as good as ruined, your updo plastered over your face. Your makeup is running, and Junhui wastes no time pulling you indoors.

"I didn't know where else to go," You murmur, strength sapped, and he says nothing, only signals to his servants to get towels and new clothes.

As he surveys you, his eyes widen in disgust and shock, and he takes your shoulders in his warm and gentle grip. "Was this him? Sir Park's son?"

At your unsettling silence, he repeats his question, more firmly this time. "Did he do this to you?"

For the first time in maybe your life, you meet his eyes fully. There is anger in his eyes, so raw and so deep, that you feel your eyes start burning again.

As you bow your head to blink the tears away, he lifts your chin to meet his eyes once more. "You have never shied away from me. Of all times, my treasure, I would beg you not to hide now."

You stay silent, and he repeats his question, each word more strained than the last.

You nod imperceptibly, confirming his worst fears.

"God," He groans, leaning forward to hold your hands in his large ones. "If I were a swordsman and not a musician, he would be gutted like a fish."

You try to crack a smile, but it just doesn't come out right. "You're not funny."

"I wasn't trying to be," He returns. "But whilst we are on this subject, perhaps my bow could do the job. It's sharp enough."

That finally coaxes a small, broken smile out of you, and his shoulders release slightly at the sight.

His servants return with the requested items, and after pushing you into a room with an adjoining chamber to dry off and get changed, he sits you down as he tends to you. Still shaken, you just let him, and you watch silently as he presses a small makeshift ice pack to your face, made of soft towels and crushed ice meant for drinks.

Occasionally, he brushes a hand through your hair to detangle it and let it dry. It's so... domestic, painfully so, and you're fully aware of how hard your heart is pounding.

"I hate you," His voice suddenly comes through, and you look up as they register. "I hate you so much, you know that?"

Your voice is hoarse as you reply. "I know. I know it all."

"I hate that you're here, in my estate. I detest the sight of you. I hate that we're here, only being civil under circumstances like these, and I loathe beyond comprehension that he did this to you. I hate it so much, but I despise you the most for not coming to my door the second it happened."

Your eyes sting again with tears, and he reaches up to wipe at them, his eyes the most tender you've ever seen.

"Do not shed tears for a man so undeserving," He murmurs. "It is unbecoming, you know."

"I know," You choke. "I didn't want to."

"Forget about him." His voice resounds like thunder. "You should not remain with a monster like him for your family. You are your own person, and your fate is in your hands."

He turns his attention back to the bruise on your arm, tending to it with the same gentleness and precision a tinker had with music boxes.

He called for medicine, clothed and fed you, only to hear you confess three hours later. "I must return before dawn. He will be seeking me out, and I can't have him come to your estate and make trouble."

"No." His firm refusal shot a pang into your heart.

"Junhui. I must."

"You will not return to that hellhole. It's my order."

"I have to, my family-"

"Would want their daughter to be whole and hale." His voice is deep and fierce, so much angrier than you've ever heard.

"I would not see you ruin yourself for a godforsaken life with him. If he can hit you once, and to this extent," he motions to you, "He will do it again and again. Each time even harder than the last. You will die at his hands!"

"The deal-"

"The money is the last thing on my mind!" He exclaims, now agitated. "I do not care about the riches or the deal your family has made with anyone. I just want you to be safe. I want you to be happy. Are you happy, locked up in a great lonely house with him, giving up on the art you have honed all your life, becoming his puppet and a shell of what you once were, only to be hit as if you are worth nothing?"

You shake your head, as if trying to shake off his words. "I know, you're right, Junhui, god! You are right about it all. But my family... they are everything to me. I worked all this time just so I could go home to them someday and live our days out in comfort. I...I cannot forsake them now. Not when they will be thrown into the streets and shamed if they do not honour the contract."

"Then stay here with me," He pleads. "I will handle all of it. I'll make sure no one gets hurt. You can perform and do everything to your heart's desire and I will never hold you back. Please."

"I cannot burden you with my issues!" You shout, choking back a poorly concealed sob, hands reaching to your hair to tug on it in frustration. "Please, Junhui, please, just... let me be. Live your life and let me live mine."

"You chose to come here tonight. Yet now you ask me to stay out this. How can I, if you're making a choice that may very well get you killed?!"

"I will not. You know that. I'm strong enough to handle it."

"Do you even know what you are handling?" He demands hotly. "A violent barbarian who knows only use his fists against a blameless lady and her family -- do you have any idea how horrendous that sounds?!"

You take a deep breath. "I-"

"I will open my gates to you and your family. I will give you my home, my sanctuary and protection, anything you will ever need. But in return, all I ask is that you leave that place. Leave someone who will never care for you the way you should be cared for."

"I can't, I can't. The world is in my way, his family-- they would never view me or respect me the way I want. Not as a musician who worked her way to the top. They will see me as a mere town-girl who seduced him for money and ran off with it. Everything I've done to make sure people never see me that way-- I can't handle that."

"And so you pick them, their satisfaction and influence, over your own fate?" He asks incredulously. "That strong, stubborn, steadfast woman I know -- where is she?"

"I am not picking. It is my only option! You have seen how the governors and men of the court see me, even as a musician in comparison to you. I would suffer that tenfold, and worse, my family will go the same path. I would rather die than allow it to happen, even if I must suffer."

The whole room goes silent, save for your breathing and his ragged pants.

His nose flares and his eyes narrow. His voice turns colder than the cruel winters of the land. "Is that what you truly mean?"

"..Yes. Yes."

After what seems like an eternity, he nods, so slightly you almost don't catch it. His lips curl, whether in disgust or mock of your decision, you do not know. He looks the most disappointed you've ever seen him. "Fine. Then let him destroy you. Let the people who do not matter, do not care about you tear you to shreds. Perhaps you were right, and I was the one meddling too much. I apologise." He starts walking away.

"Junhui-" You begin as you clutch his arm, dread running down your spine, but he simply looks at your hands wrapped around his with the indifference you thought was all he had. He looks at your pleading eyes, your shaking posture. He wants nothing more than to tell you how he feels, the immense frustration that you just won't let him be there for you... but through his raging emotions, his mouth stays shut.

"You can leave as you want," He says, all the emotion from prior gone. He finally looks you in the eye, his own betraying only the smallest hint of anguish and something you can't quite place. "I will not hold you back if that's what you desire. I just hope you will be happy with your decision, Y/N."

And then he's gone, leaving you to sink down in the middle of the room and cry into your hands, the finery of the gown he clothed you in now a mess around you.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1874, September 5th

"You have returned."

Not quite a question, but you nod to your husband, who is currently lounging on a newly embroidered couch, eyeing you up and down with something close to disdain in his eyes.

"Costume yourself. Conceal everything well. There is another ball tonight in honour of a newly debuted painter, and we must attend."

Fantastic. Yet another function where you would be on his arm, hang on to his every word, pretend to love him. "Must-"

Nathaniel raises his hand and you flinch. He lowers it, head tilting. "You heard me."

You head up to your chambers in silence.

Your tears flow as you dress yourself as instructed, every puff of makeup lowered to your face doing a terrible job of hiding the marks on your face, the exhausted swell of your eyes.

Fine. Then let him destroy you, Junhui had said bitterly.

He probably already had, you thought. In ways no one would ever see.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"Sir Park!" Court ladies and gentlemen alike hailed your husband as he helped you out of the carriage, painting the picture of a perfect husband. You see your mother, dressed in finery, looking awkward and uncomfortable with the current company. You start excusing yourself to walk to her, but Nathaniel holds you to him, glaring down at you with a fake grin plastered on his face. "What are you doing?" He hisses furiously under his breath.

"I am going to see my mother," You hiss back through gritted teeth, venom in your voice, a sweet smile fixed on your face as if you were exchanging an intimate secret. "Or would you prefer I scream for help, darling?"

He releases you immediately. "Be back swiftly. People will wonder of your whereabouts."

Without responding, you make your way through the crowd, smiling and bowing slightly to the upperclassmen who greet you. When you reach your mother, she visibly relaxes, reaching out to clasp your hand.

"My dear girl," She says, trying to smile. "You seem to have lost weight. Are you well?"

"Very, Mother," You reply, through a fake smile.

Concern shines in her eyes, and she tries to continue. "Daughter. Don't make the same mistakes I did, trying to keep defying your father. There are times where we must step back, and you might find that... life gets easier. The frustration will ease."

Would the frustration and pain of your marriage really fade? Would you, like Junhui insisted, be reduced to a hollow shell, numbed to everything and allow yourself to be treated like an unloved rag doll? Would you, after everything you did to make a woman out of yourself... become a meek and obedient arm candy, the one thing you never wanted to be?

As you pull away from your mother with a quiet excuse, you hear pleasantries being called to a new guest, and you turn to find Junhui, who clearly just entered the ballroom, staring directly at you.

You're not sure if your eyes look imploring enough, but it doesn't seem to work. Junhui turns away, and for the rest of the evening, you do not catch his eye.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1874, September 21st

Days pass and you still play the perfect wife.

The order is exactly the same. You attend balls, play one or two customary pieces for Nathaniel to receive the oohs and ahhs of your talent, and at the end of the night, you return to your great, lonely house and sleep alone.

Soon after you got home from the ball, Nathaniel received an invitation to a business conference with the lords of Sicily. He had, after careful deliberation, decided to bring you.

Fine, you think. At least with the business, he might be too busy to keep you in line all day.

Nathaniel hasn't hit you since that night, but you're constantly on tenterhooks, on edge that his anger might blow once more. It's a ticking time bomb at home, and not much better outside. It isn't as if you have anyone to lament to about your marital troubles.

Your impatience is getting worse day by day. You already know the deal could easily be nullified, with the riches you know your family has received, but your parents still have no intention of setting you free. And so, on a warm Tuesday afternoon, three springtimes after it all started, you make your decision, rash and unchecked.

"I want to leave."

"What?"

"I cannot live like this. Not as your trophy wife. I wasn't born for this."

"And where will you go?" Nathaniel sneers. "Who will have you, a once-married woman?"

"It matters not where I go," You shoot, "You have no business knowing. As long as I am away from you, you asshole!"

"Oh, I would be very entertained," He replies coldly, a mocking smile set upon his hateful face. "I would like to know which man would take in the likes of you, even if you go to Sicily and start anew. Or maybe Sir Wen Junhui has already defiled-"

You slap him hard. He clutches his cheeks, turning red from the impact and from his rage. "You dirty little rat-"

"You are the vermin that thinks that way," You seethe. "You are the problem here. Not me, not Junhui, not my family. This isn't about the deal we made with your father anymore. It is purely because I am a woman that you are behaving this way. If anything is being defiled here, it is my dignity and your reputation."

He scoffs. "And you really believe some good Samaritan will voluntarily take you in and give you a bright future? Even if you believe so, you will end up the same way, in their kitchens, whether in Sicily or anywhere in the world. I am doing you a favour."

He steps closer. "But perhaps you already have someone in mind? ...Sir Wen Junhui, perhaps?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "What's this got to do with him?"

"Oh, you don't fool me," He laughs humourlessly. "You think I never see the way his eyes move to you when you're in the same room? You think I don't notice how you glance at him? And those few moments at the painter's ball last month. Care to explain that, my dear wife?"

"We are not on good terms." You hiss, stepping up to him. "Shame on you that you think otherwise, because there is nothing going on. I am no cheating liar."

"Perhaps not," He muses. "But I would pay good money to see what he thinks of you."

You stand your ground. "I want a divorce. That's all I want. I can return all the money you want to you in due course. Just set me free."

"Let's see what the courts think of that," He challenges, and you clench your teeth, anger overriding you like never before. "Your whole family will crash and burn with you. All because of your erroneous ways."

You stride away from him, out the estate doors, and his condescending, bitter voice resounds in your head, eyes wide in the face of your rebellion. "You don't know men the way you think you do, Y/N. Mark my words. Wen Junhui will not take you in no matter what he says. Women only have one fate, and you sealed it the moment we married."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

Junhui opens the door and swears it's deja vu.

Mere weeks ago he did the same thing, only for you to break his heart in a span of a few hours. He surmises that it must be the same situation tonight.

Nevertheless, he opens the door to your panting figure wordlessly and lets you enter. You look sheepish as you adjust your gown, body heaving with the effort it took to run here, but he does nothing.

No, if he gave in and comforted you, he did not think he could risk another heartbreak.

You beat him to it. "I'm sorry I came," You start hesitantly. He stays silent, so you continue.

"Nathaniel, he-"

"Forgive me, but I do not wish to hear details of your marriage. You said it yourself, your life is not my concern." He knows he is being petty, but this was the only way he knew he would not overstep.

"It-"

"What more do you have to say to me?"

You open your mouth to reply, but the bell of his estate rings and you glance at him, petrified. You mouth the words as if the visitor would hear, Nathaniel? His jaw clenches instinctively.

He quickly ushers you into another room, a safe distance from the sitting room where they would still be in earshot. "Stay put," He warns.

He leaves for the main door, and you can hear him exchanging greetings with a man's voice, all too familiar.

It is Nathaniel. You expected it.

"Please, sit. Can I offer you a drink?"

"No need for formality. I am not here as Sir Park's son, but as Y/N's husband."

"...I see. Well, what can I do for you?"

"We are both gentlemen, Sir Wen," You hear your husband say. "Let us get right to the point. You harbour illicit feelings for my wife, do you not?"

"...I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." Junhui's voice has turned cold. Nathaniel should be afraid, but he looks Junhui squarely in the eye.

"I told her this and I'll tell you too, Sir Wen," Your husband's voice is careless, as if he doesn't care what he's saying. "She is mine. And I have rules about the women in my life. They will not look at other men. Their life will change to suit mine. And if anyone tries to defy that, defy me, I will tear them down. You, my dear musician, are no exception."

The room goes silent for a moment. "Well, I am glad we straightened this out." You can practically feel Nathaniel smiling, smug in his arrogance. "Y/N will be heading to Sicily soon, and I must ready our travel plans. Goodness, what a world we live in!"

His footsteps scuff the ground as he gets up, then stop. "This was a nice meeting, but the next time we chat about this, I will not be as friendly." You hear his chair creak. "Well, as you were. Good evening."

"You do not deserve any part of Y/N." Junhui mutters.

"...I'm sorry?"

"I said, you do not deserve her." Junhui repeats, each word firmer than the last. "If you knew her at all, those vile, vulgar words should never have left you. Had you not wed her just for her talent and face value, you would have seen her for who she is -- a strong, talented, and truly selfless woman. She gave up her music, her lifeline, to marry a man she barely knows just for her family's sake. If you ever bothered to observe her beyond your conceited and overbearing ego, you would have found bliss with her by your side."

"...I knew coming to an agreement so quickly was suspicious." YOur husband laughs, slightly cruelly. "And you would know all that of my wife, because?"

"I do not know her as well as I'd like, but I know better than to let go of such a precious being." Junhui's words do not cease, each one hitting home hard. "The innate truth is, neither you nor I deserve her. I will not lie that she showed up at my estate the night you laid your filthy hands on her, and nothing has ever made me angrier. So I swear, from now on, not a single hand will land upon her, or be damned this nation and its money, I will make it my life's duty to ensure you never again see the light of day."

Nathaniel chuckles, as if Junhui's words are but a gust of wind, as insignificant as one raindrop in a thunderstorm. You cannot stay and hear any more of this. So you creep towards the nearest window, ajar to let air in. As you crawl out, careful not to hook the hem of your gown on the hinges, and flee for the back gate, you hear your husband croon. "There must be more than meets the eye, Mr Wen. Although, I hope you know where you stand. Y/N will never belong to you."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1874, September 24th

"Thank you for coming, Mother," You try to smile at her, as she sits across you.

"You have never invited me over before," She says brightly. "What did you seek me out for?"

"I need to tell you something."

"Okay..." She comments, putting her teacup down. "Go on."

"I wish to leave Nathaniel."

"What?" Your mother is beyond alarmed, sitting forward and furrowing her brows. "Daughter, you know--"

"He hits me," You blurt out, and her eyes widen. Perhaps not the most graceful or discreet way to expose your suffering, but to you, there was no nice way to say it, no matter how much it hurt.

"He-- Y/N--"

"And someone else came and saved me. In so many ways, even the ways I did not know I could be saved.”

"Wh-" Your mother looks truly befuddled, and in any other situation, you might have laughed at the astounded look on her face.

"Wen Junhui." You continue blabbering. "He has seen me for who I am, at my best and at my worst, and he... he has healed me. He told me the truth that no one bothered to say, and he taught me that... that my fate is my own. Mother... I do not think I can live by the words of others. I think... I think that would make me miserable beyond belief."

Your mother is silent for what seems like an eternity, and you fiddle with your fingers nervously.

She finally opens her mouth to speak, and your breath catches.

“Of all people,” She murmurs, before giving you a soft smile. “I never would have thought that Mr. Wen would be the one to catch your eye.”

You shake your head in fond exasperation. “Life works in mysterious ways.”

“No.” She disagrees. “It has its own wiles and ways, but everything… everything happens for a reason. We were foolish to try forcing your happiness, weren’t we?”

You shake your head again. “I know you want the best for me.”

“I do, and I am glad you trust that, Daughter,” Your mother says softly, and you look at her, the gentleness of it all making your eyes glass over. “And if the best for you can be found in Mr. Wen…”

She dabs at her eyes carefully to prevent the kohl from running, and shoots a smile at you, genuine and loving. “Who are we to disagree?”

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1874, September 27th

"You'll need more coats. Those dresses of yours are so overbearing." Nathaniel comments as your maids fold both of your clothes into trunks.

You grit your teeth but say nothing, as you pick out your jewellery.

"And this," He holds up another gown, one of your personal favourites, a sweet baby-blue confection with small gems sewed meticulously within. "Outrageous. Have it burned, my wife will not be seen in things as skimpy as th-"

"Shut up!" You can't recognise your shout. "Just keep your mouth shut for a moment, won't you?"

He advances upon your retort, eyes glittering. "What did you just say to me?"

"I will not go to Sicily with you." You say resolutely.

He starers at you for a moment, then bursts into laughter. "You? Turning Sicily down? How amusing."

"I'll never go anywhere with you." You snap, backing away. The maids hesitantly put down their work, then proceed to leave the room, leaving just the two of you.

"Don't be ridiculous, wife," Nathaniel says condescendingly. "Sicily would be good for us to start over. Too many nuisances here."

As he laughs and returns to selecting clothes, you scoff. "You're one to talk. You ruined my life, you took everything dear to me away."

He throws down the possessions, a loud shout bouncing off the walls. "Understand one thing. You are nothing, you understand? I could crush you and all that you have under my boot all in a day's work."

You push back, enraged. "Don't you project your emotions and problems on me. Junhui was right. You don't know any part of me. Not what I love, you're nothing that any sane person wants or needs. You're human vitriol."

"Junhui, Junhui, Junhui," Nathaniel sneers. "So you do know he's in love with you. Why else would you allow him to poison your mind? That pest--"

You punch him in the mouth.

You punch your husband, a rich and influential merchant's son, square in the mouth.

Now, you're not a strong woman, and in any fight, you'd be knocked out like a light. But given that Nathaniel did not expect any form of violence or pushback from you, when he was so close to taking you to Sicily permanently, he stumbles back in surprise and clutches his jaw.

Taking advantage of his confusion, you run.

You run and run and run, to the stables, upon a mare, and urge it out towards Junhui's estate.

So you do know he's in love with you.

This was the only time you wanted -- yearned -- to believe Nathaniel Park.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"You must think my home is a vacant shelter," Junhui comments as he lets you in.

He stiffens when you say nothing. "What is going-"

"Junhui." You lock eyes with him, firm and headstrong. "Are you in love with me?"

He stops moving entirely for five moments before chuckling. It sounds so artificial.

"No, that idea is repulsive."

"Junhui-"

"No."

"Junhui." You take his hands and plead. "Tell me the truth, and only the truth. Is it true, that you are in love with me?"

He tries swatting your hands away. "Please stop. Leave."

"I will the second you tell me that you are not in love with me. I will disappear from your sight for the rest of my life, I will leave for Sicily without looking back, and I will never return. Just answer me, just this once. Are you in love with me?"

His resistance snaps as he whirls to you.

"I've been crazy for you the moment I laid eyes on you!" He chokes out, eyes burning with emotion, hands flying to wipe furiously at them. "I couldn't fathom the thought that you hated me from the moment you saw me, goodness knows why, but I figured -- if that was the only way I'd see you for who you were, wild and free and beautiful, instead of the other ladies in court who put up facades to be around me -- I'd take it all. Whatever you gave me, I'd take and play along."

He swallows before he continues. "And yet it wasn't enough. Competing on and off the stage with you. I was in Rome when I received word of your union with that...that monster. I hated myself then. I regretted immensely that I had not asked for your hand before someone else did. I must have been complacent that you would always be around."

"Y-You...you never sought me out." You say softly, stunned at the revelation.

"It was a marriage between a renowned merchant's son and the world's best violinist, celebrated by all... I could not compare. Love would not cut it. Love would never cut it."

You could not help but cup his face, wiping the tears that leaked from his earnest eyes. "I truly believed you would find happiness with that man, treasure. I genuinely wished you well, even if it broke me." He whispers.

"And then you turned up at my gates, with bruises on you and a horrific story to tell," He continues, clenching your hands in his, "Yet I had to watch you, and let you return to that son of a bitch of your own will just so your family could live in peace!"

His body, now racked in sobs, crumples to the ground, bringing you with him as you cradle his head, tears of your own now dripping down your face. "Here you are now, one step away from moving to Sicily as you dreamed, asking me if I am in love with you? My beloved, is that really a question, or simply a confirmation?"

He looks up at you, eyes rimmed in red. "I cannot burden you with my emotions now. Not when you're achieving your dreams. Not when you and yours are suffering under the world's scrutiny. I love you so deeply that I know I cannot do that. If I cave into my emotions... you will be shackled to me, and I cannot have that on my account."

"No." You interrupt. His eyes raise to meet yours, as if in disbelief at what he was hearing.

"I plan to leave Nathaniel. All future plans are gone, and we will not be going to Sicily."

His eyes dilate in shock. The world goes silent, and it's just the two of you.

"I...I spoke to my mother. Way before today. About what you said. A lot of it was what you said." Your voice sounds foreign, so strange to your own ears. "I told her that I would settle the deal and anything we owe in any other way that would not require my happiness as a trade. I told her...I could not bear to let people who did not care if I lived or died dictate how I spend my days. I showed her the wounds he gave me. And I told her how you healed them."

He could not speak, could not move. The fact that you had decided to show your suffering to the one person you did it all for... he did not know whether to praise or cry at your bravery. That you, terrified yet adamant, had made a choice that would finally change the trajectory of your life.

You take a deep breath. Clasp his shaking hands in yours as you find your next sentence.

"You know this. The current divorce bill has always favoured men. In this age, no matter how big I am, no matter how much proof of how awful he is, society will only ever choose him over me. I have every intention to leave that monster, but it will be a tedious, arduous task, and I cannot promise anything out of it -- but what I can promise is that if you want me, you have me. Wholeheartedly, even if hell bestows its wrath upon us, my heart will always be yours. It..."

He waits with bated breath for your next words, his grip on your hand just as unwavering as your will.

"It must have been yours from the moment you pushed me to leave. You were the only one who saw me as anything more than a trophy wife, even with everything I threw your way. I only realised too late... that what I need isn't someone who would speak behind my back, or only support me from the sidelines."

His hands reached up to your face, trembling, cold, so full of emotion he felt like he would combust.

"I need someone like you to stand with me. I need you, Junhui."

It was all he ever wanted to hear. For the longest time, ever since he could remember. Just the thought that you might want him, competitor and all, shakes him to the core.

He grabs you and pulls you to him, hands gripping your waist. Tears form once more in his eyes as he shuts them and presses his mouth firmly to yours, and you can taste the salty tang of them on your tongue as you wrap your hands around his shoulders and tug him towards you. He smothers any remaining space between you -- not that there was much at all -- and wraps his arms wholly around you.

You both enjoy how you mold into each other so, so perfectly -- like a major scale, like a perfect chord, like the coda of your favourite orchestral symphony. One kiss against the next, the tune of your heart swelling into a brilliant crescendo.

You stay like that, lost in the throes of passion, heads tilting to accommodate each other, and when he finally pulls away, leaving you breathless as you meet his eyes, his expression changes into one of such deep love and joy, tears spring into your eyes again.

He draws you into a warm embrace, stroking the back of your head as you find solace in his arms. "Do not weep, treasure. I need you to stay with me, because after all these years of butting heads with each other, you are finally mine."

And as the darkness of the night descends upon the land, neither of you make any move to let go, because Junhui was right.

After all this time, of fighting and being at odds, you were where you really belonged.

With the man whose career you once swore to end, yet the only person who managed to play his way into your heartstrings.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"And you must still leave, because?" Junhui is frowning, evident even with his head down, playing with your fingers. You look at him longingly.

"To finish what I have started, Junhui," You murmur, looking at him. "There is to be a court hearing, and only then will I know if I can leave him."

He only frowns further. "And you will be going alone?"

"My mother will be coming with me. I would need support."

His expression does not relax as you hoped, as he continues, "I presume I cannot go?"

"The court would be even less in my favour if you were to show up. Imagine the scandal it would cause!" You reply, chuckling as you fiddle with the silk material on his waistcoat, soft and fluffy against your rough fingers. "Why? Can't get enough of me already?"

"Shut up," He replies instantly, voice bitter. "If you had just married me before and not bothered with him, you could've avoided all of this."

"It was arranged, you idiot! And I wonder, who was the one who didn't ask for my hand and pined about it on his own?"

"I did not pine!" He defends immediately. "I could have you thrown out for such slander, you know."

"You keep telling yourself that, Junhui," You reply, smiling slightly. "How was I to know you wanted to marry me from the start?"

"You had your head up in your ass, trying to win a competition that didn't exist," He responds without missing a beat, grinning devilishly, and now you were ready to release a string of curses that would make your poor mother weep.

"Listen here, you little-"

He takes your raised fist and holds it easily in his own.

You scowl deeply. "What do you want from me now?"

"I want you to decide for yourself. Go and do what you have to for your own happiness. If you decide you do not want me-"

A slap to his chest leaves him stunned.

"Are you actually lacking in intelligence somewhere up there?" You hum. "You're much more an idiot than I thought."

"What?"

"I spilled all I had in my mind to you, you nincompoop." You mutter. "I want you. I will only want you from here on out. Don't be stupid."

"Do you mean it?"

"That you're stupid? Without a doubt."

"You know what I mean." He holds your gaze. That in itself has you gaping in mock hurt.

"Do you not trust my words in the slightest?" You ask incredulously. "My, what do you think of me?"

He raises his eyebrows. "After the past ten years? You want me to be honest?"

You slap his chest again indignantly and he laughs.

"Junhui," You say, softer than ever before, and he looks back at you, eyes shining. "I mean it all. Down to the last word. Please... believe me."

He'd never heard so much as a request from you, never mind a 'please'.

"I do. Gods... I do. More than anything." He cups your face affectionately, and you melt at the touch. He seems as though he's gearing himself up to say something, and after a few moments, he finally loosens his tongue.

"From now to the end, I will wait. I'll be right here. No matter the number of waltzes and music I must grace this ridiculous society with, you must promise, promise, you will come back for me." He leans into your hold, and the intimacy, the gentleness Nathaniel never once provided, makes you blink back tears.

"I will." You say. No more word play or snarky responses. Your promise hangs between the two of you, strong as the red string of fate shining between your interlinked fingers, bright as the days ahead.

With Junhui by your side.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1875, April 2nd

Resounding applause booms through the concert hall. Junhui takes his final bow as the stage closes. Women were swooning, men applauding the prodigy violinist that finally graced the stage of Jahn's Hall. People waving could be seen wherever Junhui looked.

Show-off, you think to yourself. Yet, your legs betray you, standing up to carry you to the wings of the back-stage.

You handle your gown with ease, your feet carefully navigating through throngs of Junhui's well-wishers, the people manning the operations, all the way to the back where you saw clearly a large crowd forming.

Where the crowd was largest was where Junhui would be.

You pick at the bouquet in your hands in slight hesitation, until a man you recognise from many concert halls catches sight of you and promptly yells, "If it isn't Miss Y/N! Another wonderful musician in our midst! Freshly back from the courts eh?"

You shoot him a small smile and a nod, and he immediately starts elbowing people out of the way. "Out of the way, folks! She must be here for Mr Wen. The rumours are true, so move, fellas!"

Slowly, the crowd dissipates, fading to the sidelines, until Junhui notices the strange crowd movement. He looks up from his conversation with another man, and he freezes in his spot when he sees you.

Heart thumping so loud you can't hear anything else, you raise the bouquet (you searched for the perfect arrangement for almost a week, but you would carry that secret to the grave) and with a smirk on your face, you drawl, "Missed me?"

The crowd bursts into noise, full of clamouring and people shouting. Through it all, you pay them no attention, your focus only on the man in front of you, staring as though he's never seen you before.

Junhui stays stock-still for a few moments. You're starting to think he doesn't want you here.

"I know I did not write to tell you I was returning, but I can explai-"

The greatest violinist of the age strides over to you, captures your face in both his warm hands and kisses you.

You can feel him shaking as he presses himself tightly into your embrace, your foreheads almost touching.

"Seven months," He rasps out, pressing kisses on your mouth between each word. "Seven months and not a word from you. I imagined you'd run off with another man."

"Who else could have infiltrated my mind as you can?" You choke a laugh, reciprocating him with equal fervour. "Day and night, I ached to write to you, but I could not jeopardise my position in the court hearing."

"And what was the outcome?"

"Of what?"

"You know very well what!" He says, drawing away from you but keeping you locked still in his hug. "What of the case?"

You stay silent and his smile fades. "You are frightening me, treasure."

You laugh at that, unable to keep up the facade. "Ruled in my favour. We have signed the separation papers, and I am a free woman."

He shouts out something intelligible, and wraps you up in another bone-crushing hug which you happily return.

"I am glad I kept my promise," You murmur as he sways you around, lost in the joy of you back by his side. You hardly notice the hum of activity as someone ushers the crowd out of the room. "I hate to say this, but it may have been the best decision of my life."

"You say that now, treasure," He teases back before looking at you, puzzled. "What promise? As I recall, you did not write to me at all."

"That I would come back for you," You answer, without missing a beat. "That promise echoed in my head, every single day. When I stood my case, when I went to listen to an orchestra play the first day after learning I'd won. When I hastened my departure and my mother told me to be happy, all I thought of was coming home to you."

He pulls back and looks at you, eyes slightly glassier than they were before, and the brightness in his expression, the love in it, etches itself in your mind permanently.

"And you are home with me now."

"I am."

"You are not leaving me again, treasure. It is an order."

"You sound sappy. Stop that right this second."

"You started it first, darling. Your promise echoed in your head? Really?"

"You're insufferable. I hope you know that."

"Remind me when we marry. You love me anyway."

You sigh, half-helpless and half-fond, and reach up to rake your hands through his hair.

"I do. Gods... I do. More than anything."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1946, November 11th

"Hang that over there, please. Right at the centrepiece of the fireplace."

"Here, madam?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"Treasure, you look at this portrait too many times in a day."

"Be quiet. This was the only good decision you made in our lives."

"You say that now. What of marrying me? Was that not the best thing you did?"

"The worst decision of my life, I can assure you."

"You're a terrible liar."

"I hate you."

"Love you too, treasure."

"..."

"You're smiling."

"I am not!"

"The curve of your lips won't go down. You are not sneaky."

"Shut up. I told you we should go see the classical group before they leave tomorrow."

"Don't distract me. We can look at the picture a little longer. It isn't time to go yet."

"Ah...finally, something good coming out from your mouth."

"The same mouth that kisses y- ow! My face!"

"Not another word!"

"Fine! God, you horrible lady."

"Fine, you wretched man!"

Shaking his head and smiling, the man, much older now, but with the same charming smile and earnest eyes, reaches his arm out to wrap it around his wife, tongue still sharp from their youth, yet still the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. She lets him embrace her, even leaning back semi-reluctantly, to his great amusement.

"Look at that," The lady marvels. "Look how wonderful the artwork is, Junhui. Goodness, I still remember the whole day."

"The best day of my life, treasure," The man responds gently. "I'll never forget."

Snug in each other's arms, the couple looks on, at the memory of their younger selves. The time has come and gone, but the days ahead of them are still as bright, the memory of this portrait just as vivid as ever.

The portrait of a beautiful young woman and a tall, dashing young man, sitting together on their wedding day, arms interlinked and smiles forever etched on their faces. Two violins sit next to each of them, and a small plaque attached below the portrait reads:

"Commissioned: Wen Junhui and Y/N L/N, March 7th 1876."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

author's note:

SURPRISE FIC in the middle of “This Summer”!!

i play the violin, so i was veeerrry excited to write one about music!! especially a period romance?? yes pleaaaasee

thank you for reading! 🎻🤍 feedback is always welcome :”)

[differenteagletragedy]

Just an unreasonable amount of angst, takes place some time after Baxter's Step 4!

If there was a through line of your love life, a neat little string that wound through everything and wrapped it all up in a nice, pretty bow, then you'd hoped it was Baxter.

You wanted it to be Baxter. You needed it to be him.

And for a while, you convinced yourself that it was. You'd met him for the first time at 13, where you shared a formative dance on a crowded floor, then again at 18, when he spent a short summer by your side.

You fell in love with him then, you were sure of it. And then five years later, when fate brought him into your life once more, it felt undeniable. Life wouldn't be so cruel as to take this beautiful person in and out of your life over and over, would it?

It wasn't that cruel, you learned. But maybe you were.

A hand touched yours, pulling you out of your thoughts. You looked up and warm amber eyes met yours, the corners pulled up.

Baxter smiled at you, gently running a finger along your knuckles.

"Where have you been, darling?" he asked quietly.

You glanced around -- he'd taken you out to dinner, a particularly nice dinner, even by his standards. You'd finished up most of your meal, but you saw that as your thoughts had been wondering, you'd used your fork to make a mess of the remaining food.

You winced a little, looking at it. It looked like a toddler had been playing in their food. It was disgusting, just like ---

"Are you with me?"

Baxter squeezed your hand, and you forced yourself to look at him, really look. You took in his crisp maroon suit, his artfully styled hair -- grey now, you noted, not jet black. The little bits of lightness showed up in the twinkling light of the candles on the table, and you saw it as you always had -- proof that you'd helped him feel comfortable enough to truly be himself, imperfections and all.

For a while, you thought he'd helped you in the same way, but his worried eyes and the pit in your stomach told you that even though years had passed, even though he had been nothing but kind and loving and gentle with you, you weren't as healed as you liked to think.

You were still broken. Irreparable, even.

"Hey," he said, just above a whisper. "What's wrong?"

You gave a slight shake of your head and forced a smile, thankful in the moment that you'd faked it enough in your life that you could make it seem real.

"I'm fine," you told him. "Just tired, I guess."

He studied you for a moment longer, and you could tell he was trying to decide to just what extent you were lying. It wasn't a good feeling -- both lying to him and knowing that he knew you were -- but you pressed on.

Finally, he stood, tucking his chair in behind him. He walked to your side of the table and once again reached for your hand.

"Care to dance, then?"

You took his hand without thinking too much -- just enough to know that if you thought more, you might find a reason to say no. It was a terrifying thing to consider, so you just didn't.

Baxter slid one hand into yours and placed the other on the small of your back, pulling you in close. The restaurant had a small dance floor with a piano off to the side, and a few other couples were already there, moving together like the two of you were.

You idly wondered if they were happy.

Time passed, you weren't sure how much, but long enough for your discomfort to ease. Baxter was a charming dance partner, and the way he held you tight against him, coupled with the two drinks you shared at the bar between songs, had you feeling better.

It was just anxiety, you reasoned. Unfounded fear. It didn't mean anything. You wouldn't let it.

It was easy to be brave with Baxter. After a string of failed relationships over the years, some small, some big, sometimes you struggled with letting people in, but he was always different. So gentle and supportive, he provided you with unrelenting grace.

"Can we go for a walk?" he asked, and you agreed.

He paid the bill, and soon you found yourself being led to a nearby strip of shoreline. The salty air bolstered you mood even more, enough that you almost felt OK.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, and he placed a kiss on top of your head. When you pulled back, you offered him a smile -- a real one. He smiled back.

And then, in the blink of an eye, he let you go and knelt down on one knee. He dug around in a coat pocket for just a moment before pulling out a small black jewelry box, which he moved to open.

Before he could say a word, long before he could get out the question you knew he was going to ask, you gave him an answer.

"No."

His mouth was left hanging open. He'd been ready to launch into a speech, one you just knew he'd rehearsed, something full of warmth and tons of little lies about how wonderful that he somehow thought were true, but now he was lost.

You couldn't say for sure who started crying first, or if you'd tried to pull him up or if he'd tried to pull you down, but soon you were both hunched over together on the beach, tears falling fast. You were trying to cave in on yourself, and despite the fact that you'd just broken his heart, he was holding you through it.

"Can you just talk to me?" he finally asked, his voice husky with emotion. "Please, can you just talk to me?"

But you couldn't, not really. Not in any way that would have made a difference.

You tried anyway.

The explanations you offered him were messy and sad and disjointed -- "you can do better than me," "you don't have to stay," "you deserve better" -- and while they were true, they didn't quite get to the heart of it.

You wanted to give him an out, a reason why he should leave, an excuse to walk away clean. A quick, easy break that you should have given him a long time ago. If you couldn't do anything else, you could do that much.

What you should have anticipated was that your boyfriend knew a thing or two about keeping people at a distance, and even more about self-loathing.

He cried with you, clutching you against him on the sand. He rocked you gently as you sobbed desperately, and he ran shaky hands over your back, through your hair, all over to try to find a magic spot that might soothe you.

"Let's go home, all right?" he asked when you finally settled. "We don't have to talk about it. We can pretend it never happened."

"How is that going to work?"

He chuckled darkly, and said, "I'm not really seeing another choice here, love."

You paused, then told him, "You could leave."

He kissed your temple, then your cheek.

"Not an option," he said plainly.

You saw there with him a while longer, long enough for the panic to recede. The surrounding streets became quieter as it got later, the city emptier.

"Let's go home," he repeated.

It wasn't a fix, of course. You weren't sure a fix existed for what was wrong with you. But he wasn't running, and he wasn't letting you run either. And at least for tonight, that would have to be enough.

[mandoalorian]

tolerate it [javi peña x gn!reader]

“I made you my temple, my mural, my sky…” 

Warnings: this is not nice, I'm sorry. This is pure, unadulterated angst. Based on the song tolerate it and You’re Losing Me by Miss Swift herself.  Word count: 2000approx. Author’s note: one thing about me is I come back every 6 months, drop a one-shot, and then leave again. Was feeling a bit of seasonal depression today. I don’t enjoy fall as much as the rest of the world, it seems, but here is an autumnal fic to get your spirits going. Masterlist Ko-fi

Fall.

Two take-out cups of piping hot Colombian ground coffee warming up your bare hands, because you thought it was too early for gloves, and the trees standing naked and tall with crusty red leaves blanketing the damp ground beneath your chunky boots. Holding the newspaper in the crook of your elbow, you sigh as you feel rain begin to fall from the grey clouds above. You pick up the pace, striding through the swarms of busy people doing their seasonal shopping, just wanting to get back home dry.

Your wishes weren’t commanded and you stumbled through the front door of your townhouse sopping wet, hair stuck to your face and mascara now three inches down your cheeks. You put the coffee cups on the dining room table along with the newspaper and took off your coat. At some point, Javier came in and sat down at the table. His fingers pinched at the corners of the paper. The pages were ripped and wet and the ink was bleeding into an incoherent smudge on the front page. Javier opened the lid of his coffee and took a sip before immediately scrunching up his face and putting it back on the table. You turned to face your partner, only to be met with his lips curled into a frown and his brows furrowed together in disdain. You looked at him, helpless and apologetic.

“What’s wrong now?” You huffed, searching for answers in his empty brown eyes. You were tired of asking the question.

“It’s cold,” He muttered, his eyes not leaving yours as he awaited an explanation like he was owed it. His words are blunt and sharp but you have no choice other than to take his indiscretions on your shoulder.

But instead, you offered him nothing short of a scoff as you emptied the pools of water from your boots.  The storm outside was loud and persisted with long wails and cries. In silence, you sat next to Javier at the table, and in spite, drank your cold coffee.

After a few moments, you smiled to yourself, wanting to lighten the mood and remembering something that you had seen on television a few days ago. “You know, in California, iced coffee is a thing? Yeah, that’s how they prefer to drink it over there.”

Javier grunted in acknowledgement, leaning back on his chair and folding his arms over his chest.

Your eyes flicked between the oak wood dining table, and the way you had set it so beautifully with your fancy China and centrepiece. The empty vase waiting for a fresh bunch of flowers stood tall and was gleaming after you’d spent a good chunk of your day cleaning and polishing it. A single, pumpkin-scented candle flickered in between you and Javier, your gaze fixated on the dancing ember. Finally, you looked back at Javier, who was taking shallow breaths as he awaited you to pay him attention.

When you fail to do so, it causes a problem. “I have to get to the office,” he announced after a few minutes of silence. 

“But it’s a Saturday,” you replied. Ever since Javier got his big promotion, it meant he could do fewer hours and stop working weekends. He hadn’t gone to the office on a Saturday in nearly two years. Javier stood up and put on his leather jacket, the same one he’d kept from the 70s. He still rocked it, of course, but in this climate, it just wasn’t smart. “You’re going to need something warmer than that jacket, you’ll freeze to death.”

You stood up, your chair scraping against the floor, and went to walk to the bedroom, finding a coat for Javier to wear. You picked one out that you knew he hated. It was long and plaid and not his style at all, too ‘modern’, he called it, but it was the only thing that would stop him from catching a cold. You grabbed a pair of gloves and a scarf and walked back out, following him into the hallway. He waited for you and stood leaning against the door frame, looking at the outside world ahead of him.

Sure enough, the storm had cleared up in a matter of minutes and golden rays of sunlight peeked through the now white clouds. Your heart fell, deflated when Javier refused to wear the coat and the scarf you’d picked out for him. 

“The gloves, at least,” you begged him, your eyes wide and glazed with unshed tears that you didn’t realise you were holding back. The air was thick with flaws and indecisions. Javier felt a pang of guilt in his heart when he read your expression and took the gloves from you, shoving them in his jacket pocket, a silent promise that he might just put them on later if he remembered.

“Will you be home for dinner?” You asked quietly.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” you nodded. Javier placed a chaste kiss atop your head. “I love you.” You promised him, but the words were lost on him.

“See you later,” he replied, before pulling away and walking over to his truck. 

You’d normally watch him get in and drive away but this time, you shut the door before he even stepped off the patio and sauntered into the living room where you slouched onto the couch, hung your head low and closed your eyes. Darkness. You wondered how long you could keep fighting this. You were so tired of giving your all, only to be met with so little appreciation back. What was once the richest of love had turned cold and empty. You gave him endless empathy and he was killing you. 

Javier pulled up outside of Luna Azul, his favourite bar. He hated this. He didn’t like lying to you, but he just needed to get away. He pulled out a cigarette and rested it between his lips, pushing the front door open and immediately taking a seat at the bar. Lighting the cigarette, he took a deep inhale of the nicotine, letting it sting his throat before exhaling. He loved you, he really did. He didn’t remember a point in time when things shifted, he didn’t understand why things had changed so much. You were still his person, his soulmate, he knew he’d never find anyone else like you, but there was just something missing.

“Hey Javi, why the sad face?” Elza, the barmaid asked, already pouring him a whiskey on the rocks, his usual order. “Did someone die?”

Javier feigned a smile before downing his drink. “Rough day.”

“Ah,” Elza said softly. “Trouble in paradise?”

The words made Javier wince. He gestured for another drink, of which Elza promptly poured him. “I guess.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Javi,” Elza frowned. “You deserve better.”

Javi’s frown deepened. He swirled the whiskey as he processed Elza’s words. He really didn’t believe that he deserved better, Hell,  he barely believed that he deserved you, and you were more than good enough. You were perfect. 

And suddenly, for Javier, it all made sense. He was damaged goods. All those years in the DEA, fighting in a war… that’s what had changed Javier. The years of trauma that he’d never confronted… never got help for. He had hidden his feelings, fought his nightmares and pretended like they didn’t bother him. He’d come this far, he wasn’t scared… he couldn’t be scared, he wasn’t allowed to be scared. He had to be strong, brave, get over it. Javier downed his second whiskey, his skin getting white hot as realization gushed over him. Elza filled his glass up with a third, watching the agent intently.

You weren’t the one who changed, he was, and it took him this long to realise. It was all becoming so clear now, how hard you had been trying and how he hadn’t even said ‘I love you’ in six months. Javier’s stomach was in knots, he didn’t know how or why you’d stayed this long when he had given you nothing in return for your efforts. Impulsively, Javier downed the third whiskey. 

Something had to change. He had to change—get better. He knew now that was the only thing that would fix the relationship he’d been taking for granted. He had to go home and apologise. He had to make things right before it was too late. Javier stubbed out the butt of the cigarette and stood up abruptly, only to be met with ruby-red lips crashing down on his hard. Teeth biting down on Javier’s lower lip, Javier let out a small groan. He hadn’t been kissed in so long. But these weren’t your soft, sweet lips. Javier pulled away, eyes widening when he saw Elza standing in front of him with a smirk.

Javier rubbed at his lips in an attempt to wipe away any traces of infidelity. This is not what he wanted or needed right now. He had to get home and fast. Without sparing a single word to Elza, Javier dived out the door and jumped into his pickup truck.

Grey clouds gathered outside as Javier jogged up the driveway, an indication of another storm. You were cooking when Javier arrived home. You were so surprised to hear the front door open as he’d only been gone for half an hour or so. You’d been thinking hard and decided that if tonight wasn’t any different than previous nights then that would be it. You'd be out the door.  The thought of it was soul-crushing because you wanted to marry this man. But you couldn’t take it anymore. Fighting with all your strength and might only to be ignored.

“Hermosa,” Javier greeted, exasperated and breathless. If your eyes weren’t immediately drawn to the remnants of red lipstick on his lips, you might have noticed his tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes. He’d been crying all the way home, crying for being so stupid and reckless for all these months, for not taking care of himself, but most importantly, not taking care of you.

Your heart plummeted in your chest and you dropped the wooden spoon that was in your hands. It clattered on the floor, the noise making Javier jump, but you stood there, still and unwavering. Silent tears began to stream down your cheeks and you couldn’t strain your gaze away from your boyfriend who was smelling thick of alcohol and had another woman’s lipstick on his face. That was it.

He had dealt his final blow.

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its been years since I've redone my masterlist so im starting again from scratch. if you see this and want to be added, let me know.