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missadangel · 7 months ago

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The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x OC)

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XI. The Accusation (+18, Mature)

gif --- ayo-edebiri

“Ad astra per aspera”

To the stars though difficulties…

Villa…

"I need you to help me to kill Caracalla.”

You stared at Julia's face in astonishment, trying to make sense of what you just heard. Her dark brown eyes were serious, but you noticed something in her expression that you couldn't identify – it was somewhere between fear and unease.

"You came to my house to ask me to help you kill your son? Is that correct?”

“He is no longer my son. Macrinus has made him a mere plaything. He pretty much does whatever he wants. He had his relatives killed, without any hesitation. I can't let him kill Geta too. It's only a matter of time. I can't lose Geta.” She sounded upset when she mentioned him. "I lost everything to Macrinus. First he took my son, then my reputation. My own son won't listen to me, he sent me into exile, which is unacceptable." Her tearful voice suddenly turned serious. "I have no one left to go to but you which Acacius had a hand in this, of course.”

‘What are you sa-?’

"He wiped out my men in Legates. They were my last remaining stronghold. I did everything I could to keep them on my side for all those years. Did he tell you how he killed them? I'm sure he didn't, so as not to startle you."

You took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. "My husband doesn't hide anything from me. But even if he did, I'm sure he has his own reasons." You said confidently.

"Sure he has!" she said sarcastically.

She was testing the limits of your patience. "Cease talking nonsense about my husband!" You barked. "Simply say whatever you came to say then take your leave.”

"Fair enough.” She crossed her legs. “Caracalla must die before Macrinus returns to Rome. Before he appoint him as Praetorian prefect (commander of the Imperial Guard)." She took a deep breath. "I'm sure of that he will take action against my sons once he assumes command of the guards. This could potentially lead to him ascending the throne. However, if Caracalla dies, it might weaken Macrinus' position. It would be more feasible to defeat him when Geta is emperor.”

"And you needn't worry about being hidden away in the shadows, as it seems unlikely that Geta will exile you like his brother did? It sounds like you're saving yourself.” She averted her eyes which meant you were right. "But why do you need my help exactly?"

"I believe you care about Geta, don't you? He also cares for you in some way. Perhaps more than you realise.”

“There’s nothing—“

You were about to protest, but she silenced you by raising her hand. “I am his mother, so I know him well and I know you don't wish him dead too. Besides, it would be better for everyone if he rules Rome alone. So Caracalla must die as soon as possible before harms him. You're a medicus, aren't you? You could make a concoction of herbs that will kill him painlessly.”

Her words were sharp, but her gaze was unwavering, declaring that this was the path she had to take. But it was still strange that she said it so easily. It felt wrong.

"I wouldn't have come to you if I didn't have to. It's only a matter of time before he finds out, accuse me of betrayal, and send me back. This is our sole opportunity before Macrinus's return."

‘Our? There is no ‘our’, there is no we. Furthermore, it is not a decision that can be made alone. You present this as an easy solution, but I am a married woman and my husband is a Roman general. What will happen to my husband if your plan fails? Have you ever considered this?”

She rolled her eyes. “Isn't that why you should help me? Once he's dealt with my sons, Macrinus' next target is General Acacius. To get you.” You knew exactly what she meant and she realized that. "I imagine your husband feels very regretful about not taking Macrinus out that night. Because I know he won't let him get away with it.”

You swallowed hard, hating to admit that she was right. Julia smiled, seeming amused by your expression. "Oh, poor Aurelia. It must be tough to be caught between three men. Yet you are fortunate. Even if you were to become a widow one day, there'd be another man waiting for you. Since you're a Roman princess, you're worth a great deal.”

That was the last straw. You felt a rush of anger and stood up abruptly. “Get out of my house now! Leave!” You barked, pointing your finger at the courtyard door. Julia stood up, looking insolent.

“If you truly care about Geta, think about what I said.”

“I said leave!” You shouted, then pointing your finger at her. “I'm warning you, don't you ever speak ill of my husband and don't come to my house again!”

Some of the slaves rushed towards you.

“Domina!”

“Escort Lady Domna outside.” You said sharply.

Julia gave you a stern look and turned away. She raised her hand to stop the slave who was approaching her. Then she left the courtyard. You were still pretty angry and tired, which made your head spin even more. Decima put her arm around you and made you sit on the lectus (couch). She grabbed your feet and gently lifted them, helping you lie down. Norell and Tullia were keeping an eye on you from a distance, looking a bit worried. You looked them with a half smile and told them to get on with their work. You leaned your head back and closed your eyes. Decima took your hand.

"Would you like me to make you some dittany tea (cretan thyme)?" It was an herb that was usually used for relaxation. Decima was from Egypt, so she was familiar with herbal teas. Well, not as familiar as you are, of course.

You looked at her. "Not that, not if I'm..." you said quietly.

"Oh, you're right. Chamomile then?”

"Yes, that's better. Thank you my dear.”

After drinking your chamomile tea, you fell asleep in the courtyard. The slaves were mindful of your need for rest and made every effort to avoid disturbing you. Those who walked towards the courtyard did so as quietly as they could. Then Mau appeared and jumped next to you. However, you were so deeply asleep that you were unaware that she had fallen asleep on your lap. You were suddenly awakened by the sound of a sword being unsheathed and a man shouting. Mau meowed loudly, jumped out of your lap in fright and sought refuge elsewhere.

Seeing Octavius holding his sword to a man's throat who you had never seen before. Opened your eyes in surprise.

“Sir! Have mercy please!” He begged. You noticed some parchment papers and a reed pen in his hand.

You sat up on the couch. “Octavius, what is happening here?”

"My lady, this rat was attempting to draw your likeness without your permission."

You were taken aback. "Can you clarify what you mean by that?”

Decima turned to you. "This man came for the General, but we informed him that he was not present. I then assumed that he had departed. Forgive me, my lady.”

Your eyesbrows rose. “You came to draw my husband?”

The man swallowed. Octavius shook him. “Lady Aurelia asked you a question. Speak, thief!”

You warned him, “Octavius, please put that sword away and allow the man to speak.”

He obeyed. The man stood up ad bowed. “Yes, my lady. Aventine cloth dyers association are paying me to do a mural of General Acacius and the tiger he fought in the arena, my lady.”

“Explain yourself. Why would they do that?” Octavius barked.

“He’s famous, sir, the city, all the Roman citizens likes him. He’s a hero.”

You smiled, and he was indeed a hero to you. You picked up the fallen scrolls and took a moment to examine them. He had painted you so well, even the mau in your lap, which you found quite remarkable.

"But you drew me, his wife," you murmured.

"My lady, allow me to beat this insolent rat to death," Octavius hissed. The man shuddered with fear.

"Please, sir. Leave him alone," you said, a little harshly.

"My lady, forgive me. You were so beautiful when you slept that I was overcome with admiration and wanted to draw your likeness.”

You felt your cheeks flush involuntarily.

“How dare you!” Octavius roared.

“Calm yourself, sir.” You gave Octavius a warning look. You stood up and approached the man. “Please rise.”

The man stood up looking a little ashamed.

“I'll tell my husband you came by. You are well talented, I liked your drawing,” you said, showing him the parchment. “May I keep this?”

He looked at you and gave you a big, warm smile. "It's already yours, my lady. I'm really pleased you think so.

You glanced at Octavius, who seemed to be losing patience. Then you looked at the man. “You may yet leave now.”

The man bowed his head and gave you a shy look, then turned and walked out of the courtyard. Octavius accompanied him outside. You and Decima studied the painting the artist had created. She then enquired as to whether she might bring you something to eat, and with your approval, she departed. It would seem that Mau was hungry when she returned to you, as she rubbed her tail against your leg. She meowed loudly when she saw Norell approaching you a moment later with a tray in her hands.

"Where's Decima? I thought she was supposed to bring the food.

You noticed that Norell's cheeks flushed. "Well, my lady, she had some more work to do in the kitchen."

"Is she all right?"

She nodded, but her freckled cheeks were still red. You grabbed her wrist as her furtive look and tone of voice made you wonder what she was hiding. "Tell me, what's going on?"

"Um, Decima. She took food to Sir Octavius." She averted her eyes from you and smiled in a way that seemed a little evasive. You blinked in surprise and then laughed.

“Oh, well, well,” you said, amused. “When these two have become so close?"

Norell chuckled. "It has been a while now. She often speaks of him."

You giggled. "Where might they be now?"

She turned her head towards the courtyard. “Over there.”

"Perhaps we could go and take a quick look at them," you suggested, with a hint of mischief in your voice.

Norell let out a soft laugh and followed you behind. The slave at the door was about to speak to you but you silenced him by putting your index finger to your lips.

You and Norell peered out of the door, observed Octavius and Decima by the stables, talking, smiling at each other. The slave at the door looked at them from behind you and grinned too.

As you watched them from a distance you recognized a familiar feeling in the way they looked at each other, love.

"My dear Decima," you murmured, sharing her happiness.

Norell sighed deeply. "I hope that one day I will be in love too.”

You heard the other slave sigh and you both looked at him with surprise. He bowed his head shyly.

“Domina? My lady?”

All three of you were startled by Tullia's loud voice. Decima had heard it too, and when she turned her head towards you three. You blushed and hurried inside.

“Tullia! Why are you shouting?” you snapped.

“Oh, forgive me. I thought…”

You and Norell had laughed loudly running towards the other courtyard. Tullia was looking at you, a bit confused. Decima came into the courtyard and made her way towards your voices.

“My lady?” She then looked at Norell in a rather angry way.

“I didn't say anything,” she said, holding up her hands.

"Come now, why are you keeping this from me?" you smiled at her.

Decima blushed.

“You're already sooo obvious.” Norell said smugly.

“What did you say?” Decima frowned and approached her and Norell turned around to run away. They ran into the courtyard and you followed. Decima cupped water from the fountain and threw it at her. Norell also did the same. They began to soak each other, laughing together. Norell ran towards you, intending to hide, but as Decima attempted to throw water at her again, the water hit you in the face, and you flinched when you felt the cold water on your skin.

“Gods!” Tulla cried out. She ran towards you. “My lady, are you alright? Look what you've done! Cease this nonsense now!” She yelled at them.

Mau had also got her share of a soaking, licking herself like mad to dry. Decima and Norell were looking at you with guilty looks on their faces. But you, far from being angry, approached them with a serious expression and cupped the water from the fountain and threw in their faces. And a fun game began between the three of you. Tullia's grunts mixed with your laughter and echoed throughout the courtyard.

By the time the general arrived, you were still engaged in your game. Octavius was observing you at the door, perhaps not fully aware of his surroundings. Marcus heard the loud, cheerful laughter and dismounted, heading for the courtyard with curiosity. He looked where Octavius was looking and was struck by the difference between this view and the one he saw every time he returned home. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. He was at a loss as to how to react. He smiled as he recognized your cheerful laughter. Then he looked at Octavius, who looked like he was stunned.

“What are you looking at?” he yelled.

Octavius startled with his loud voice. “Sir!”

“You may leave Octavius,” he grumbled. How dare he watch my wife? he thought. Well actually he was watching someone else but still.

You all froze when you noticed him. Decima and Norell bowed to him and made their way away from the situation as quickly as they could.

“I'll get you some dry clothes, my lady,” Tullia said and ran out of the courtyard.

How great. They all left you alone with Marcus. He regarded you with interest as he approached. The stone floor was quite wet, as were your dress. You bit your lip, uncertain of his reaction. Fortunately, a smile soon appeared on his face, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

"I must apologise for not realising your arrival."

"No need to apologise, my love. There is nothing quite like coming home and hearing your cheerful laugh, which is music to my ears."

You had a sudden sneeze. It wasn't the most romantic answer. Marcus chuckled. “My Lady. You’re all soaked."

Before long, Tullia appeared with a clean dress and the cotton cloth to drying yourself. "If I may, my lady-“

“Give that to me.” Marcus kindly took the cloth from her hand and wrapped it around you. Upon seeing your feet, you instinctively drew them back, as if to hide them. You hadn't realised how wet they were. He smiled and gently took you in his arms, which made your cheeks flush. After all, Tullia was following you behind, carrying your dry clothes in her hands.

Your hand was touching the golden-edged leather strips on his shoulder. Playing with them by running your fingers between each strip. He smiled in response. Once you had entered the room, Marcus set you down. Tullia then placed the dry clothes she had brought for you on the bed, leaving the two of you alone in the room.

"Allow me," you said as you reached for Marcus' armour, but he gently pushed your hands back.

"You first. I do love seeing you like this, but I'm afraid you might catch a chill." His eyes were roaming over your body.

You held his hands and placed them around your waist. “Maybe you could warm me up then?” You smiled naughtily.

He smirked and his hands were already undressing you with haste. Once he had removed your belt and your damp stola, his eyes lingered on the tunic that clung to your body. You were now very aware of the reason for the sudden change in his eyes. That his gentle hands would soon become more impetuous. Even before you reached for the holster on his waist, his lips found yours. His hands were trying to remove your long tunic and you were trying to remove his armour, but it was difficult. When your wet tunic fell to the floor and gathered around your feet, Marcus pushed it aside with his foot, never breaking the kiss. You couldn't tell him to take off his armour because your lips were completely captivated by his. Grabbing you by the hips, he picked you up and put you on the edge of bed. You pulled yourself back with all your might, kneeling on the bed. His armour touching your wet and naked body was a little strange, although seductive. Marcus thought you were playing a game, so he tightened his grip on your lips, not allowing you to break the kiss. But as he tried to come towards you, putting his knee on the bed, the sword at his holster hit the edge. He looked down at himself in surprise and laughed.

“I tried to tell you,” you laughed and helped him out of his armour.

“I must have been under your spell, princess.” He grinned.

Once he'd taken off his armour, Marcus grabbed you around the waist and laid you back on the bed. You couldn't believe how excited you became each time, as if it was the first time he'd ever laid you down and positioned himself on top of you. Moreover, how could it be that each touch of his lips to yours felt so different from the other? It really amazed you that such a simple touch could evoke such strong feelings. Perhaps it was the endless blending of pleasures that this strong bond between you bestowed upon you. What a treat, what a magnificent and wonderful feeling. His lips and tongue were exploring every inch of your body as your bodies fit together perfectly, and you enjoyed one pleasure after another. It felt like there was no end to the adventure of exploring each other's bodies and their needs. Every time you encountered a new sensation and a lot of pleasure. Even Marcus, who was an expert lover, found this to be true. Despite his extensive experience, he had never made love to anyone before you, not even once. It was more than a sexual fulfilment. It satisfies his soul too, as he inhales your scent, touches you, tastes you, he feels complete, he feels alive. To him, you were made for him. The moment you got into his heart, everything lost its meaning; you and all the other insignificant things. You were born into his life like the sun into a dark, war-torn, blood-stained, boring, lonely world. You brought him light and purpose. From now on, he would live to serve you, to make you happy, to protect you from all evil. With you by his side, he was more likely to put his duties for Rome second.

“Marcus,” you moaned. He bent his head and kissed your lips, where you said his name. He didn't want to hear his name from anyone else's lips; only you had to say it, the others not allowed. They couldn't say it like you anyway. It wasn't even a possibility.

“What do you wish me to do, my love?” He whispered in your ear. His lips were caressing your earlobe.

You kissed his cheek and pulled his head towards you with your hands in his hair, it was your turn to whisper in his ear. “You know already.”

He grinned, of course he knew. His big hands gripped your hips tightly, deepening his thrusts and quickening his pace. As you moaned in response, he kissed you. Not to silence you, but to feel your beautiful voice within his very own mouth. Soon together you reached the overwhelming end of your pleasure, moaning into his mouth for the one last time. You remained in that intimate position for a while, breathing heavily. Feeling each other's hearts beating against your chests under your palms. Savoring this glorious moment.

The bright sunshine streamed through the window, illuminating the room with a warm glow. The soft breeze from the balcony caressed your still damp hair, causing you to shiver slightly and pull the sheet over your shoulders. When you heard the swallows chirping, you decided to open your eyes. Marcus wasn't with you in the bed. You frowned and sat up.

“Morning my beautiful wife.”

You turned your head towards his voice. Marcus was at his desk, looking pretty busy with a quill pen and some papers.

“Morning.” You gave him a smile. “Did I sleep for too long again?”

“Just a little,” he replied turning his head back down to continue writing something on the paper. You got up and put on your tunic. However, you then felt nauseous again.

“Excuse me,” you said covering your mouth with hand. Hurried out of the room. Marcus put his quill pen down on the table and stood up. He walked out of the room and followed you into the latrina, waiting outside the door.

"Aurelia, my love. I'm rather concerned."

As you stepped out of the latrina, he put his arms around you.

“Maybe I should call for another medicus?’

"I don't think that is necessary," you said as you walked back to the room together.Marcus helped you to sit on the edge of the bed. He crouched down in front of you, his hands gently smoothing your dishevelled hair.

"You said that you might get better if you rested. However, I can see you're still not feeling well." His face showed concern.

"I'm actually feeling better today." You mumbled. It wasn't a complete lie. The nausea wasn't as bad as it had been the day before. You felt you had no complaints, knowing what was causing this feeling. Marcus lifted your chin up with his hand. You didn't want to tell him before you were certain, but he was so concerned. He needed to know.

"I sense you're hiding something from me.”

You looked at him, blinking your eyes and inhaling a deep breath. "Marcus, I, um. I wasn't sure if I should tell you until I was certain..."

He looked at you from under his eyebrows. "Continue."

You took his hands in yours and looked into his eyes. "I believe I'm with child.”

Marcus froze. His eyes widened in surprise, his pupils dilated. Then the most marvellous smile appeared on his face. He kissed your lips, and his heart overflowed with bliss. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling towards him. He buried his face between your breasts, then slid it to your belly, planting kisses along the way. You felt his lips on your belly.

"What have I done to deserve you?"

“It might be too early to say for sure. Perhaps we should wait a little longer-“

His lips found yours suddenly. He put his knee on the edge of the bed next to yours and laid you back down. You wrapped your arms around his neck. Without breaking the kiss, he settled right next to you on the bed. He put one hand on your belly.

“My beautiful Aurelia,” he purred. “I love you, with all my heart and all my soul.” His warm breath caressed your face, your heart blossomed.

“I love you, Marcus. I love you much more than words can ever say.” You touched his cheek with your fingers. “I hope that I am carrying your child.”

“Our child.” he corrected you.

You smiled. “Our child,” you repeated.

He kissed you again, your heart beat with bliss, which soon turns into desire. “I shall spend all my days with you." He said huskily as his hands lifted up the hem of your tunic. “I shall spend all my time making love to you, over and over until our bodies become one.” His lips found yours again and soon turned into a hungry, lustful kiss. As he slid into your shaking body, and you moaned with exultation. This was love. This was blessing. Elysium on Earth.

Over the next few days, you tried a series of tests to find out whether you were carrying a child or not.One of the tests was a common one in Rome and Egypt. All you had to do was urinate in two different bags; one filled with barley and the other with wheat. If the grain in either bag sprouted after being peed on, it meant the woman was definitely with child.As it turned out, they were right. You saw the barley sprouting within a few days, and the wheat took a little longer. Decima said that meant you were carrying a boy. That's how you felt, they said it was a maternal instinct. You never thought of yourself as a mother, at least not this early. But it was indescribable happiness. Marcus was treating you with more tenderness than ever. You were delighted to be the cause of this amazing man having such wonderful feelings. It was a pleasure to see him so cheerful, and the others in the villa were equally pleased to share in his joy.

During this time, Marcus had been closely involved in the training of the soldiers at the Campus Martius (Fields of Mars) just outside the city. Macrinus had been absent for over a week and it was to be expected that he would soon reach Libya. As the general of the army, it was his duty to be prepared for any eventuality and to train his troops accordingly. No matter how busy he was, no matter how late he came home at night, at the end of the day, you found him in bed snuggled between your breasts and legs. You never complained as you wanted him so much as ever thanks to changes of your body that had led to heightened sexual desire.

That morning, when you were helping Marcus put on his armour, you mentioned Julia. It seems she was pretty desperate, even talking to him about Caracalla too.

"Geta is keeping her hidden," Marcus said as he checked the strings on his armbands, "It's likely that Caracalla will eventually find her. She may have a point about Caracalla being prepared to assign Macrinus as Praetorian prefect. However, he will need to return to accept it. I must finish him before he arrives in Rome." He said with determination.

"I suppose he will return soon, then?”

"He must be. I'm waiting for the messenger pigeon to come back. If the legion commander in Libya confirms he's arrived, I'll make the necessary preparations."

You swallowed, feeling concerned by the fact that he was about to fight Macrinus again. Marcus took your face in his hands.

"Please, do not be concerned, my lady. I gave you my word that you won't lose me."

You nodded. "You do what you need to do, my love."

"I will. For you." He put his hand on your belly. "For our child. I will do whatever it takes to make sure he grows up in a safe Rome, and with other Roman children.”

“I am certain you will.” You embraced him and rested your head on his chest, running your fingers through the contours of the medusa.

“Speaking of children,” Marcus said. You lifted your head to look at him.

“Hmm?”

“All the kids at the Poorhouse and the people there.” He murmured.

“I haven't been to visit them in ages. What about them?”

"You don't have to go. Please don't tire yourself out. I want you to stay here and get some rest. Besides, It seems that Geta is already looking after them in your absence."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “Really?”

"Yes, that does astonish me too. I find it unusual that he would spend his coins on something like that."

"He said he would, but I must admit I didn't expect him to keep his promise."

"You might be right about him. Maybe he could be a better emperor.’ You sensed the sincerity of his tone. "However, I tend to agree with Julia about Caracalla." He said, his face suddenly serious. "Every moment he breathes is detrimental to Rome.”

"Julia almost begged me to poison him."

He was checking his sword carefully. "No, that's treacherous. Even for him. He is an emperor, after all. It must be done honorably."

You felt tense. Or was he planning to act soon? He never mentioned it though.

He put his sword in its holster. "Enough politics, I think." He smiled. "I must take my leave now, my lady.”

For some reason, you felt a sudden sense of unease. "Will you be on duty at the Field of Mars today too?"

"That's correct," he replied after adjusting his armour for the last time. "Please don't engage in any risky things during my absence." He said in a commanding tone.

“I'll be making herbal tea, too dangerous,” you said mockingly.

He gave a little laugh and kissed your temple before leaving the room. As you followed him outside, you realised that the uneasy feeling inside you was getting worse. Maybe it was an unnecessary consequence of your new situation: worrying too much about everything. Marcus looked back at you one last time before heading out. You gave him a smile and then he left.

You made your way downstairs to the girls. You had little chat while they were engaged in weaving the carpet. There wasn't much else to do for the rest of the day, except lie down and rest. You visited Unio to feed her and brush her pearly-white mane with your fingers. Marcus had forbidden you to ride, not until the birth. He'd also told you not to go to the poorhouse, and you'd had to obey him on that one too. In the last few days you had become a little better with your knife and Marcus had admired you for it for the first time. But your overly anxious husband didn't want you to pick it up for a while either. Why did carrying a child have to be so boring?

In the evening, you were feeding Mau. Then you heard footsteps approaching from the courtyard.

"Domina!" The slave boy came running to you. He had that look on his face again, hesitation.

"What is it now?"

"The Emperor." He mumbled.

"Sister!"

You were quite taken aback to see Geta appear out of nowhere. He approached you and embraced you while you stared at him with your mouth hanging open.

“What are you doing here?”

Geta made a face. "Is this the manner in which you choose to greet me?"

"Well, apologies. I am simply astonished."

Geta looked around. "So this is your little house.”

You walked towards courtyard together. "Please have a seat, your majesty," you said, gesturing to him.

All eyes in the villa were on your emperor half-brother, who was seated comfortably on the armchair wearing a crown on his head and an overly flamboyant toga. You requested that the slaves bring you wine and fruit. Geta examined the wine glass and took a sip. As you observed him sitting where his mother had sat days ago, you came to recognise the differences between him and her. They were nothing alike. You were surprised that you had never realised this until now.

"It's been almost weeks, I've missed you a lot." He said suddenly. "How are you feeling now?" He looked you up and down.

"I feel better now, thank you." Your hands involuntarily went to your belly. You were unsure whether you should tell him or not. He was so unpredictable that it was difficult to guess the outcome of saying something like this to him. Perhaps it would be best to wait until your belly gets bigger before sharing.

"My mother," he suddenly said in a serious tone. You looked at him. "She's been here. I know what she told you.”

“You do?”

"As she gets older, her behaviour is getting worse. Don't take her seriously."

"Do you think so? What she said to me is something that should be taken seriously."

"You're right, it's horrible. Caracalla really has gone mad, but her intention of killing him... It's simply not right.”

"Is there something new about his madness?"

"Apart from the fact that became Macrinus' plaything? Well, he won't take me to any meetings anymore. He's got a new toy.”

“How you mean?”

"Macrinus' new right-hand man. He's like his shadow, taking care of things while he's away. I've never met him before, but my brother has already assigned him to the important tasks. I hadn't even been informed about it. Can you believe it?"

You thought about what Marcus said to you about Macrinus' spy. "Could he perhaps be one of the legates?"

"No, he's just come from the north. I don't think anyone knows him, not even the general, your husband."

"If Macrinus hid him like Gaius, I don't think he meant well."

"That's what I thought. You're clever, sister. I've missed talking to you. But not politically, of course." He grinned.

You smiled back. "You're helping your mother to hide from Caracalla, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am." He snapped, playing with his glass.

"What if he finds out?"

He shrugged. "That prick sent her without asking me, anyway." Suddenly Geta put his glass on the table and leaned towards you. "Aurelia, he's really out of control. I know Caracalla, always was, but this time it's different. He's hallucinating, dreaming, and that worries me. I know he'll hurt someone else, if not himself. Last time he nearly got me killed, all because of a stupid dream he had."

"Did you say hallucinations?”

He nodded. "I'm certain it's her. Mother. She did this to him. I gave her a clear warning, but she refused to listen. I'm asking you because you're the expert. Is it possible for a herb to have such an effect?"

“Many kinds of plants can do that. But how could Lady Domna possibly poison him?"

"Not directly of course. My slave caught her talking to another slave in the street. She is not aware, but I know everything.” He exhaled deeply. “She should never have come back, she'll get herself killed."

It was something that would endanger not only herself, but everyone including his own son Geta. How could she be so irresponsible? She must be mad for sure just like her son.

"If its on his drink or food, if I can examine it maybe I can help.”

Geta smiled smugly. “That's why I came here.”

He gestured to one of his slaves who was holding a small wooden box. Geta reached the box, opened and took out a vial filled with red liquid and handed it to you.

"Here. This is a sample of the wine he drank yesterday. Will that be enough?"

You took it, uncorked it and sniffed. As you were already highly sensitive to smells, this one smelled completely wrong.

"Yes, I think this would be enough. Let me observe this first.”

"You do that. I must return now. I don't want him to realize I left the palace and came here. He's rather mad and unpredictable more than ever." He stood up and put his hands on your shoulders. "If you happen to find out what it is, send me word. I'll send one of the slaves here. It seems that I can no longer trust my own guards. He is about to place them all under the control of Macrinus' rat."

You nodded. "I will see what I can do, brother."

Suddenly he leaned in, wrapping his arms around you. You tried to pull back, but it was futile.

“Geta,” you hissed. “You should not touch me like this. Please-“

“What's wrong with embracing my sister?” he said arrogantly.

You couldn't help but feel that he was right, but it still felt a little awkward. He laughed at the look on your face and leaned his head down to kiss your cheek. "Take care of yourself, sister. Hope I'll see you soon," he said, with a wink, and left the courtyard with his slaves following him behind.

Campus Martius. (Field of Mars).

General Acacius arrived there after completing his other duties at the barracks. The layout of this place is reminiscent of an army camp, with a number of small buildings.

“Attention! The general is here!” Octavius barked at the soldiers. They immediately stood at attention.

Acacius' eyes were fixed on the recruits. Some of them were pretty clumsy. He jumped down from his horse, squinting at them.

"Chin up! Chest out! Shoulders back! Suck your stomach in!” Octavius commanded, touching their shoulders to ensure they were doing it right. Then he ran to Acacius' side as he approached them. "Sir!" he nodded to him.

"Sir Octavius, these soldiers are struggling to get in line properly! This is how you train them?” he yelled at him.

That's what being a Roman General entailed, after all. Keeping an eye on the rookies and their commanders, supervising his second-in-command, training all the soldiers to keep the army ready for anything, constantly meeting with the Legates to assess the situation. Keeping track of the legions abroad was undoubtedly the hardest task. The army pigeon was the most efficient way to communicate. A trained pigeon could deliver a message in two or three days, whereas a soldier would take months to do the same.

He looked the soldiers in the face as he passed, tapping some on the shoulder to make sure they were properly in line. The soldiers saluted him by putting their hands on their chests. Some of them looked nervous.

“At ease!” Marcus shouted and the soldiers got into a relaxed position to continue their training.

Octavius walked with him towards the building where the Genaral's room was located. Cato was there, waiting for him outside his room. He saluted him.

“Cato, why you are not with the recruits?’’

"Sir, I wanted to let you know that the pigeon has arrived. I have placed it in its cage and I am waiting here to ensure its safety." He said it in a very serious manner.

Octavius chuckled. Marcus grinned.

“Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” Marcus asked him. They were both looking at Cato.

“I believe this prick using the bird as an excuse to avoid training.”

Cato opened his eyes wide. “Never, sir!”

"Who gave you permisson to talk back?" Marcus shouted at him. "Now get out of my sight before I train you myself!"

“Yes, sir!”

Marcus and Octavius laughed after he hurriedly picked up his sword and rushed out. "This boy is really...” He murmured.

"He's been working really hard lately," Octavius said, opened the door and waited for Marcus to enter.

“Do you believe so?” He entered the room and sitting down in his chair and putting his sword on the desk.

"I think he's ready for the platoon training. If you agree.”

Marcus opened the lid of the cage and took the small sealed paper tied to the pigeon's foot. "I still don't think he's ready. He must to learn to overcome his hesitation first." The seal belonged to the Eighth Legion. It was stationed in Leptis Magna, a likely place for Macrinus to visit. Marcus lifted the seal and opened the thin paper.

“My dear friend, the esteemed General Acacius. I Caius Drusus commander of eighth legion, salute you! I have dispatched my men to the harbour of Alexandria as you ordered, however both ships that came from Rome brought only armoury and provisions. Sir Macrinus or his men were not among those who disembarked. Also, we have received word of a few men gathering in the Syrian sector, which may be in line with your suspicions. We await your orders. Rome Victrix!”

Marcus crumpled the paper in his fist and squeezed it. Octavius figured it was bad news.

“Sir? What does it say?”

Marcus slammed his hand down hard on the desk, his whole body filled with anger. “Damn you Macrinus!”

Marcus found himself somewhat perplexed. He was certain that Macrinus was on his way to Ostia and that the ship was waiting for him there. But why hadn't he been seen in the harbour? Octavius picked up the paper he had crumpled up and read it with curiosity.

“How can this be?" He put his hands on the desk and looked at him. Or maybe he never actually left? Did he play a trick on us?"

Marcus was mulling it over. Why would he do that? What was he trying to act? He was such a clever enemy that he never gave away his trail. For Marcus, fighting was simple. It was easy to move your sword according to your enemies movement and cut him down. But playing mind games was tough. It was exhausting to think like your enemy, to anticipate his next move, to always try to be one step ahead of him. Especially when the enemy was someone who had the emperor in the palm of his hand. Could he be seeking retaliation? Or had he never left Rome? Marcus exhaled nervously.

“Octavius, I want you to place two men outside the villa.” He ordered, turning to him. “Is Felix still on Palatine Hill?”

"Yes, sir. He's positioned there as you ordered." He'll let me know if anything arises.

Marcus put his hand to his face, closed his eyes and sighed again. “We're missing something, Octavius.”

“What could it be, sir?”

“I'm not certain yet. But I'll find out. Make sure all the men are gathered in our usual place tomorrow night, in incognito. We shall talk over. Now leave me alone.”

“Yes sir,” he said and left the room.

Villa…

You had been studying the wine residue that Geta had brought you for most of the day, with the help of Decima and Norell. Despite making a few mistakes and experiencing a few setbacks, you eventually managed to identify the substance as the fruit of the Red Shanglu plant (Phytolacca acinosa). Given its red colour, it was a logical that it would blend well with wine.

“Why doesn't it kill him immediately?” Decima asked. She shook the vial in her hand.

"It's not a particularly poisonous plant. Or maybe the person who made it is inexperienced with it. However, even the smallest amount could cause brain damage. That's more dangerous than death,” you muttered.”

“What kind of fruit is this? Can we find it around here?” Norell asked.

“No, unfortunately not. It's probably a fruit from China or somewhere nearby.”

“Didn't the Empress come here from Syria?” Decima asked.

“Damascus is frequented by Chinese traders, couldn't she have brought it from there?”

“That is true.” When you were in Egypt,your uncle had purchased a number of plants from traders who came from Damascus to Alexandria. This was not an auspicious sign. It would be very difficult to create an antidote without the plant itself.

“So what are you going to do?” Norell asked.

“I need to to speak with Geta. I must inform him of this."

“But the soldiers outside, won't let you.” Decima murmured.

Right. Two of Marcus's men arrived at noon for some reason. You were certain that if you went with them to Geta, there would be tension between those two again. Moreover, it was already dark, and he must be on his way back.

You opened your small leather notebook to review the notes you had taken earlier and consulted the description of this plant. From what you can gather from your notes, it seems that reversing it is not an option. However, there was another fruit that could potentially help to mitigate and cure it. Acorus gramineus (commonly known as Japanese sweet flag). Of course. How you didn’t think of that? You recalled your Uncle Vicius with respect and found that his teachings had proved useful to you in your life. You promptly rose to your feet and took a moment to survey the shelves. This plant is a common genus used in Rome and other regions. You attempted to reach for the jar at the top of the shelves, but it was out of reach. You rose on tiptoe and reached as far as you could. Before Decima had a chance to get up and come over to help, another hand suddenly appeared and grasped the jar.

"I did warn you not to do anything dangerous, didn't I?” Suddenly Marcus appeared next to you.

You looked at him in surprise. When had he arrived? The girls greeted him and left the room. "Jars are now a source of danger to you, General?" You teased, took the jar from his hand and put it on the table.

Marcus smiled and approached you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He planted a tender kiss on your hair and breathed you in, finding your ear. “I missed you.” Then he kissed your cheeks, your nose and your forehead, making you giggle. Then he turned you to him and kissed you on the lips before you could even open your mouth to answer.

“I missed you too, my handsome husband.”

He chuckled and looked at the vials, herbs on the table. "It looks like you had as busy a day as I did.”

You took a deep breath. “I guess I did."

He put a hand under your chin and turned your head towards him. His eyes were already filled with curiosity. "Something has happened. Tell me."

You put your hands on his shoulders. "Geta was here."

He raised his eyebrows. "Your Emperor half-brother Geta?”

“I know no other Geta,” you laughed. But he didn’t.

““What did he want? Why did he come?” He asked in a rather stern tone. Just hearing his name was enough to make him angry. You place your hands on either side of his face. It had an instant calming effect on him, his expression softened immediately.

“You've just arrived, my love, you must be tired. We can talk while we eat."

You picked up a jar of jasmine from one of the shelves.

"I'll put it in our room, it smells nice and has a calming effect."

Marcus put the jar back and grasped your wrist. "There's no need, my love. Your smell is much nicer, and it's the only thing that can calm me down." He led you out of the room.

Once you had entered the courtyard, you requested that Tullia bring the food and walked to your room. Before heading for the stairs, Marcus stopped when he noticed Octavius and Decima talking.

“Why is he still here?”

You chuckled. He looked at you with questioning eyes. You grabbed his muscular arm. It was your turn to tug. “Come now, leave them be.”

“I now understand why he has been distracted lately.” He grunted as he climbed the stairs with you.

“Please don't be angry with him."

“I'm not. But I need to talk to him later.” He said after entering the room.

Your food was brought into the room while you helped Marcus take off his armor. As usual, Marcus sat you on his lap while eating.

"You know, I'm not sure if I'll be able to fit on your lap when my belly gets so big," you said as he fed you a grape.

“Nonsense. There's plenty of room for both of you on my lap," he said, opening his arms. You tilted your head to the side and snuggled into his chest. "As a matter of fact, I can hold three, four, five, or even more," he added, eating his food. You lifted your head to look at his face. "What are you going to do with so many children, General?" you asked, opening your eyes wide.

“I'm going to raise my own army,” he said, laughing.

You laughed too. “Since you are so lascivious husband, it is quite possible.”

“Is it just me? You are too, my sweet wife.”

Your cheeks flushed. “You made me,” you touched his shoulder with yours.

He bent his head and kissed your shoulder. “Pleasure is all mine, my lady.”

“Well, I didn't say I was grateful.” You teased.

As soon as you said that, he looked at you differently. You locked eyes. The atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted. You were well aware of why his eyes had changed. "Then I'll take you in such a way that you'll be eternally grateful." He bent down and kissed you passionately on the lips. His kiss became more intense as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He put his hands in your hair and drank so deeply from your mouth that you almost forgot how to breathe. But you wanted so desperately that you never wanted him to stop. Even more so now, you wanted him more than you ever had, and he seemed to be quite pleased about it. Marcus helped you lie back against his arm. He pulled the hem of your tunic up your legs and pulled you back onto his lap. As he slid the straps of the tunic down your shoulders, you could feel him getting impatient under your hips. When his lips slid to your neck, you threw your head back to gasp for air. But then you gasped again as he started to play with your already very sensitive breasts. Just the touch of his warm tongue made you feel like it was going to send you over the edge.

“Hmm your breasts are so responsive than ever my love."

You were sure your cheeks were redder than wine. “It's simply expecting for this phase,” you said breathlessly. Your impatient fingers ran through his hair. You were eager for him to take you now.

“It only adds to your beauty. You are so beautiful to be real,” he said huskily. You kissed his neck in response. He grabbed you by the hips, lifted you up and laid you on the bed. Soon he was on top of you. You wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him to you. Or rather, you tried. He chuckled. “You are very impatient for someone who is not grateful, princess?”

You sighed. “I apologise, I shouldn't have said that. I'm so grateful, please, Marcus.” You squirmed desperately. It was one of your lustful husband's favorite moments. “Please what, my love?” He put his knee between your legs as slowly as he could.

"I want you," you purred.

His lips were on your earlobe, and the feel of his hot breath on your neck made you shudder.

"You want me where?" He teased. His fingers caressed your nipples, his glorious length brushing against your entrance which driving you mad.

"I want you inside me, please," you whimpered.

He smiled wide, like he won a victory. “I shall fulfill my princess’ desire.” And there he was, right where you wanted him most. You felt like you were going to explode with happiness and break into little pieces. You felt proud of yourself for making progress and getting to this point. Now you both knew each other's bodies and desires well. It was a progress you didn't expect from yourself, and it wasn't difficult at all. Everything was easier with him. Desiring him, kissing him, feeling his skin under your fingers – it was like a need for life. You needed him. You needed him inside you, on your skin, in the air you breathed, everywhere. With him, everything was beautiful and complete. Without him, everything was missing and lost. With him, you felt alive.

"I'm afraid I may be a little late tonight,” Marcus said as you tied the strings on his armbands. ”You'll keep your promise, won't you?”

Oh yes, your promise to him. After a lengthy discussion, he agreed to your proposal of preparing the herbal mixture for Caracalla, but he would prefer you to remain at the villa for the time being.

“I've positioned one of my men near Palatine Hill. One of the soldiers waiting outside will deliver it to him. So there's no need for you to go there," he said in a commanding tone.

You nodded. “I shall do whatever my husband says.”

A broad smile spread across his face. He wrapped his arms around you. “Say it again.”

You giggled. “I'll do whatever my husband says.”

“My ears have been blessed.” He pulled you to him and kissed you on the lips. He then sighed breaking the kiss. “I'm afraid I must take my leave now.”

“I know you'll come back to me eventually, so it will be easier to await for your arrival.”

He took your face in his hands. "You will wait my return, then, my lady?"

Of course you will, why did he ask such a question?

“I have waited a long time for you, Aurelia,” he said in his velvet voice. His expression was severe, the brown of his eyes warm, intense. “How could I not come back to you?” He kissed you on the temple. He grabbed a few strands of your hair, burried his nose in them inhaling your scent. You rose on tiptoes and kissed him with all the warmth of a woman in love. And he returned your kiss with all the joy and happiness of a man in love. If only Cato hadn't knocked on the door at that moment, you might have stayed there till night.

Once Marcus had left, you went downstairs to your little clinic-like room to make the herbal mixture. With the help of the girls, you managed to do it in less time than you expected. You did as Marcus told you and handed a vial of the mixture to one of the soldiers who were positioned outside the villa. He mounted his horse and headed to Palatine Hill.

As you sat with the girls until the evening, you found yourself feeling that strange sense of unease you had yesterday. It was just like that dream you had a few weeks ago. No matter how hard you tried to ignore it, you couldn't. And it didn't seem to go away until Marcus came back.

It was just after midnight and you were lying in bed playing with your wedding ring. Mau was sleeping peacefully next to you. But unlike her, you were far away from feeling peaceful. You couldn't sleep without seeing him return to you. Soon, however, you heard some horses neighing and murmuring, and your body filled with excitement. You quickly got out of bed. You wrapped your shawl around yourself and left the room, heading for the stairs. But you were halfway up the stairs when you saw the face of a man you didn't know. If you hadn't been holding on to the railing, you would have stumbled. One of the slaves stepped in front of the man, but he pushed him hard. From his clothes, it was clear he was one of the imperial guards. They usually kept their galea on, but not this man. At his command, five or six more soldiers entered the courtyard and all of them stood at attention. They were all dressed like imperial guards. You were wide-eyed, trying to understand what is happening, Decima ran up to you and held your hands nervously. Everyone in the villa woke up to the sounds and rushed to your side.

“You must be Princess Aurelia,” the man said, nodding then smiling weirdly at you. His eyes lingered too long on your body. You felt uncomfortable with the way he looked at you. You pulled your shawl tighter around your body. "Who do you think you are? I will not tolerate you entering my house at this time of night like a raider. I want to know who you are! Speak!"

The man laughed arrogantly. "My name is Flavius, my lady. You do not know me, but your husband does." He took a few steps towards you. "However, even if it's a very tempting idea, I am not here because of Acacius. As for your question, I am here by the command of your brother, the Emperor Caracalla. I shall take you to him."

You were both confused and afraid. "At this time of night? What is so urgent?"

"Oh, true. I forgot to mention the charges against you, forgive me." He smirked, gesturing to one of his men.

The man unfolded the scroll paper to read it aloud. "Princess Aurelia, you are under arrest by the command of the emperor. Your charges are; attempting poisoning of the Emperor himself, conspiracy behind his back, and aiding and abetting the exiled empress."

You swallowed, your heart pounding fast. It seemed likely that the ointment you had sent to Geta must have fallen into Caracalla's hands somehow. "I don't accept these charges! There must be a misunderstanding." you said.

"It doesn't really matter, my lady, I have been instructed to take you to Palatine Hill. And I will." The man came close enough to reach for your arm, but you stepped back.

"Lady Aurelia is the wife of General Acacius and also a princess. When the general returns home, they will go together to the emperor. Perhaps it would be inadvisable to take her by force, sir Flavius?” Tullia said firmly.

They knew each other? You wondered who he was.

”I remember you now. You stood up to me like this back then too. You may have aged but you're still stupid. Get out of my way at once!” Flavius barked.

Wiht Tullia's lead, the slaves and girls moving in front of you as if shielding you. The man sighed and drew his sword.

“No!” you cried.

“The Emperor's orders are final! Get out of my way or I will slay you all with my sword!”

“Do as he says!” You warned them, your voice trembling with fear. They regarded you with an uncertain expression.You held Tullia's hands. "Please, I don't want you to get hurt. I will be fine, I promise."

Then they bowed their heads and, with visible reluctance, withdrewing involuntarily.

You looked at him. “I should dress properly, first,” you said and headed for the room.

“I'm waiting, princess!” He said arrogantly.

How dare he talks to a princess like that? As soon as you walked in the room, immediately grabbed your scabbard and tied it around your ankle. You had to be prepared for anything. You put your hands on your belly, hoping everything would be fine. You put on your stola, look around the room one last time, opened the door and went out. Walked down the stairs, looking at the slaves who looked at you with concern. They were your friends, your family. You smiled at them reassuringly. The man named Flavius held out his hand to you. "My lady.”

You stepped towards outside, choosing to ignore him. Suddenly, you noticed Marcus' soldiers, who were brought to their knees with swords held at their throats by guards. "Put your swords away!" you barked them. But they looked at their commander. Flavius nodded. The men drew back their swords and sheathed them.

"General Acacius has entrusted us with the Lady Aurelia," one of the soldiers said. "We must accompany her.”

Flavius turned to him. "So that's what your General told you, eh? What if I don't let you then?"

The soldier looked at him sharply and drew his sword halfway, the sharp sound of the blade making you tense. "Then we'll have to stop you."

"No, please," you interrupted. You stopped the soldiers by raising your hands.

"My lady, please step aside. The general's orders are certain, and if we die for him, it would be an honour to do so."

Flavius laughed cruelly. “We must give him what he wants then!” He ordered to his soldiers and they all drew their swords once more. You were worried because they were outnumbered. Despite all of your objections, they began to fight. Flavius took hold of your arm and led you towards the carriage.

“Get your hands off me!” You struggled, but he was so strong. "Don't you hear me? I am your princess! You can't touch me!" You shouted at the top of your lungs but it was in vain. He made sure you were seated in the carriage and turned round. After his men killed Marcus' soldiers they mounted their horses at his command. Soon the carriage moved to take you to Palatine Hill. You couldn't stop your tears and sobs as you looked at the soldiers lying lifeless on the ground.

Marcus, where are you? you murmured as you gazed out the window, surveying the dark and gloomy streets.

A place just outside the city…

Marcus and Octavius are waiting in one of the dark streets, which is meant to be a secret meeting place. They're both wearing black cloaks. He had stationed a few of his men at key points in the city to be ready for any move Macrinus might make, and every now and then they hold a small, secret meeting in this gathering place. Secrecy was very important. It had to be late at night because it was an important matter that was only between them. But tonight there was something odd. None of his men showed up. They should have been here by now. Octavius looked down the road but didn't see anyone. They decided to wait a bit more, soon they heard footsteps coming closer. It was one of Marcus's men.

“General! Sir!” The man was out of breath. “Guards. Macrinus.”

Marcus touched his shoulder. “Easy. Breathe.” He told him. “Speak clearly. Why are you on your own?"

"Speak, Aris, what has happened?" Octavius growled.

"The imperial guards arrested all of our men and took them to Palatine Hill."

"On what grounds? What did they say?"

"Have you seen Macrinus there?" Marcus asked.

He shook his head. Suddenly there was the sound of number of horses approaching towards them and they all tensed up.

"You were followed, you fool!" Octavius hissed.

Guards quickly surrounded and circled around them. One of them looked at Marcus. It was Flavius. “Acacius, It's been too long. Strange night, isn't it?” He jumped down from his horse. Marcus looked at him, astonished.

“Flavius?” He looked him up and down. He recognised his rank by his attire. “So you've been appointed commander of the guards? I thought you were up north.”

So he was the Macrinus' shadow man. He knew exactly what he was doing, Marcus thought.

“I returned a while ago,” he took a step closer to him. “Since I have unfinished business here. With you.” His voice sharpened.

Marcus remained still.

“You killed my brother, remember? You took him from me. And for what? For screwing your wife when you're in the south?”

Marcus clenched his fists. His body was filled with rage. He was dangerously on the edge.

"I've been looking forward to this moment for quite some time, Acacius. I have been waiting for the right moment to take what you have from you when you feel happy.”

Marcus grasped hilt of his sword. Octavius and Aris were ready, waiting for his command.

"So Macrinus made you his commander? Is this how you plan to get revenge on me?"

"He's a very clever man, I'll give him that. And he's determined to finish you, though not as determined as I am." He grinned.

"Right, so how do we do it? One on one? You and I?" Marcus drew his sword to half-length.

Flavius laughed. "You've already lost, Acacius, why should I bother?" He gestured for his man to read the emperor's order. The man unfolded the roll of paper. "General Marcus Acacius! You are under arrest by order of Emperor Caracalla! Your charges are; placing men in front of the emperor's house to spy on him, to command the armies for your own benefit, attempting to murder a member of the senate, abusing the title of general, going behind the emperor's back.”

"Right," said Flavius, coming over to him. He held his gaze. “The Emperor wants to see you. He'll be the one to decide your fate.” He approached him. “Just as he will decide your wife's fate.” He grinned with his teeth.

Marcus grabbed his throat with both hands. “What did you just say?”

The guards half-drew their swords and took up attack positions. Octavius and Aris gripped the hilt of their swords in response.

"Speak, or I'll rip your neck off!" he roared, his fingers gripping his throat tighter. Flavius seemed amused.

"Your wife, Aurelia, is a beautiful woman. I took her from the villa to Palatine Hill. I told you it was a strange night.”

Marcus punched him in the face and kicked him in the stomach, mad him fell to the ground. He then quickly drew his sword. In a flash he leapt on him and held his sharp sword to his neck. “If you say her name again, I'll cut your tongue off!” He barked. “Why did you take her there? Speak, damn you!” He was boiling with anger.

Flavius, however seemed calm. “Don’t be a fool, Acacius, if you kill me now, you'll get nothing. I'm only doing my duty.”

Unfortunately it was true, he could kill him and all the guards one by one, but that would only result in a higher charge being brought against him. Furthermore, Marcus's primary concern was you. He had to make sure you were alright, which meant he had to go to Palatine Hill with them.

Flavius ignored sharp sword pressing against his throat, laughing cruelly at him. “Revenge is a son of a whore, isn't it?”

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 5 months ago

Note

Heyyy!!! Hope this ask finds you well! I’m looking for all the Alpha Stiles fics! Long and smutty, if they exist! Please and thank you so much!!

Sure.

Wild Heart by giidas (KatushkaK)

(1/1 I 2,301 I Mature)

“And no, I did not get us a room,” Derek adds, just to be sure.“Let me get us one, then. Any preferences?”Derek lifts his eyebrows and gives Stiles his best are-you-being-serious-right-now look.Stiles honest to god laughs out loud, startling Derek by clapping him on the shoulder and saying: “Oh, I like you already, so much sass!” and then goes off to procure a key to a room.

My Alpha, My Pack, My Family. by Ladyofthe_Alpha

(7/? I 12,303 I Explicit)

Derek finds himself is a position where every Alpha wants him. Will this mysterious powerful Alpha help him find his place in his pack? Or will he be another Alpha looking to get an in with the powerful Hale Pack?

You're All I've Ever Needed by siriuslyuptonogood

(6/? I 14,047 I Explicit)

Stiles Stilinski has never needed Derek Hale, but Derek Hale has always needed Stiles Stilinksi.

"I don't need you, Derek" sent Derek away from Beacon Hills, back to New York, and he would like to think he's never looked back. He hasn't gone back, at least. Maybe he never will. He's happy in the city, has tons of hot, kinky sex with hotter-than-the-sun alphas, is completely satisfied. He doesn't need a pack. When one alpha breaks it off, there's another to replace him. It's New York. There are 8.5 million people. He's not worried. He's not lonely. No, not him.

Except, he's thirty-three, and it's been seven years since he left Beacon Hills, seven years since he's had someone in his life longer than three or four months at a time. He isn't sure what he needs anymore, but he has a feeling it definitely isn't this.

When the Tables are Turned by BeniMaiko

(5/5 I 16,690 I Explicit)

Derek has to deal with a newly bitten Stiles.

You Gotta Roll with the Punches by quicksylver28

(12/12 I 34,787 I Teen)

Stiles Always thought that he was pretty well adjusted for a kid.When his best friend Scott had an asthma attack when he was six, Stiles said 'ok' and held his hand through it. When his mother dies when he was nine, and his Father's soul mark crumbled off his skin like ash, he said 'ok' and picked up the broken pieces of their lives. When his soul mark blossomed on the skin just above his heart and he realizes that his true loves first words would be "FUCK OFF", he said 'ok' and braced himself for having his heart kicked in the ass.

We're The Wild Ones, Raised By Wolves. by halelujah

(12/? I 54,290 I Mature)

"Your uncle not only killed people, he bit Scott unlawfully and without his consent, he also put a big, red target on our backs." Stiles continues calmly, folding her arms across her chest. She can't help but glare. "An action that I'm now going to reap the repercussions for."

"He wasn't yours to kill!" Derek rumbles, icy blue flashing in his eyes. "He murdered Laura!"

She sees the decision in Derek's eyes before it even turns in his mind that he should attack. As she watches Derek's muscles twitch and tense, she lets out a sharp bark, one that tells Scott to stay out of it, before she meets Derek head on, eyes burning crimson.

[Or the fic where Stiles has always been a werewolf, an Alpha and female.]

Who Are You Really? by mercury_caduceus

(11/11 i 63,021 I Mature)

After hiding his werewolf and Alpha status since his mother died, Stiles runs into Derek and they work together to find the Alpha killing people in Beacon Hills. [Set in Season 1. Alpha!Stiles, Beta!Derek.] I will be continuing this slowly.

White Rabbit by BlueEyedBetaMeow

(13/? I 84,272 I Teen)

When Stiles begins to piece together that his friends are avoiding him, and why, he begins to wonder why they ever saved him from the Nogitsune to begin with. When a terrible turn of events takes place in the Preserve, and the only thing that can save him is the bite, will the pack forget the misgivings between them, or will he be left to suffer?

Underneath by groffiction

(43/? I 190,576 I Explicit)

AU, where Stiles gets bitten by a Cyger – a type of rare Weretiger around the same time Scott gets bitten by Peter. Confused and more than a bit freaked out, they both are naturally suspicious when Derek shows up out of the blue. Still, there is something about the moody, aloof werewolf that both intrigues and draws Stiles to Derek like a moth to a flame. But, everyone knows that if you get close enough to touch flames, you get burned. However, with the promise of love, is that burning sacrifice worth it? And how does a Weretiger and a Werewolf even work as mates? Very loose canon through season 1 and season 2 of Teen Wolf. Might have some things from Season 3, depending on where the story leads.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #alpha!stiles #anon

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so-long-soldier-writes · 5 months ago

Text

Playing with fire's only gonna get you burned. Unless you're, like, into that kinda thing.

kai parker x reader

summary: things have been disappearing from your room lately, but never would you think kai is the one to blame.

tags: 1994 prison world, friends to lovers, snooping (it's very 'fuck around and find out'), mild argument, sexual tension, touch starved, kissing, touching, playful sex, teasing, fingering, vaginal sex, relatively mild smut, overstimulation, cuddling

word count: 5.5k

a/n: this fic is sponsored by wellbutrin... kidding. but that's the only reason i've actually been able to sit down and focus / write lately. this was requested eons ago, and with the greatest guilt, i'm just now posting it. also, i wrote it in a day. as in, today. i hope it's okay. <3

It started out innocently. A curious snoop in a big, almost-empty mansion, inhabited by two abandoned people left here by their families.

He hadn’t expected her to go digging around in his stuff, and she didn’t think he’d come home early. Both were wrong. And as the thin material slips from beneath her fingertips in shock, he gives her an indescribable look. His nails rap on the wood of the doorframe and she stands, speechless.

“Uh…”

“Hey, princess. Like what you see?”

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

The Salvatore Boarding House is where you found him. You wandered for some time before running into him and finding his company relieving.

Of course, getting to trust Kai took some time. You found common ground in the fact that you both were hated by the Gemini Coven. Both had been sent here by them; Kai, sixteen years ago, you, only one, and both had been frowned upon by their families. But while you shared the same enemy, you were afraid for a while that Kai would be an enemy, too, considering what he did to be sent to the prison world. Apparently, as reported by his own tongue and the daily paper, he had slaughtered four of his siblings in an attempt to kill the youngest two. He didn’t feel much sorrow, nor regret, over his actions, and explained his methods of killing with a rather monotone voice. When asked if he’d kill you, he shrugged.

“No point in doing that, really. It’s not like you can die, anyway.”

And that was that.

For weeks, you feared him, but he got better as the days passed. Kai’s actually pretty funny and can cook well. And though you’ve never said it out loud, he’s pretty cute, too. Over time, your companionship turns into a friendship. You swap stories about your past and come to understand each other better. As cold as life has made him, you don’t think he wasn’t always that way. The more you grow to trust him, you start to see a side you’re not sure he’s even seen in himself for years. Sometimes you forget you’re all alone in a prison together, save for the fact you’re the only ones there. Sometimes, it doesn’t feel like a sentence for a punishment you both may or may not deserve.

But lately, something’s been off.

It’s not that anything’s changed about Kai, but more so that it just feels… different. The young witch is the same playful, unserious boy you’ve known for months, but a few times, you’ve caught a glimmer in his eye you can’t quite decipher. He’s a troublemaker for sure, and though you’ve never seen malicious behavior, your head is filling with questions if he’s capable of some other kind of behavior you haven’t considered.

Basically, things have been disappearing from your closet. Your favorite bracelets, a few lip balms, and clothes, even some you know you threw in the laundry bin. For a bit of time, you blame it on the same-day repeating thing. Maybe the gloss you stole from the department store has just been returned to its original spot to be sold. Maybe yesterday’s pair of underwear went back to the bottom of your drawer. Maybe the shirt you wore when you entered the prison world got swept through some portal back to the real world, because you hadn’t worn it here yet, so it must not be able to exist.

One morning, ruminating thoughts swirl in your mind as you try to mentally explain the disappearances. It’s a rather new thing - within the last few weeks - and nothing like this had happened in the first couple months you were still roaming the empty earth.

At the kitchen counter, you must seem lost in thought, because Kai shuffles a pancake off his spatula and onto your plate then nods. “What’s up?”

“My clothes are disappearing.”

“What?”

“Have you ever had that happen to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Out of my room. I’ll toss a shirt in my hamper, and it’s gone. My favorite chapstick isn’t in my nightstand drawer anymore.”

“Weird.”

“You’ve never lost anything?”

“I mean… misplaced things, yeah. But I know I just put them somewhere where I can’t remember where I put them, y’know? Maybe that’s it.”

“Maybe.” You take a bite of the food and smile up at him. “Ooh, perfect! Thank you.”

He returns the smile with a wink that makes you shyly look down. You eat in a comfortable silence, omit the CD player beside you being just barely audible; Billie Joe Armstrong whispers uncharacteristically rather than shouting into your ear at nine in the morning.

He starts to speak again while gathering the dishes. “Hey, I need to take a quick trip to the store today, want to come?”

“Wait, why? We just went?” You ask, frowning.

“That house down the street had a cookbook I’m borrowing-” you chuckle at the word choice, “-and I’m gonna try one of the recipes in it, but we need, like, half the things in it.”

You think about it. Going grocery shopping with him is always an entertaining experience, but you were planning on flipping your room inside out to look for your stuff instead. The most recent thing to disappear was one of your favorite underwear sets, and if you don’t find it, it’ll drive you crazy. Explaining this, though, sounds ridiculous, so you make an excuse. With a shrug, “don’t really feel like being cold today.” Despite no one around to operate it, Bell’s refrigerator section stays cold.

“You have a jacket. Or you can borrow one.”

“You always take, like, ten years in there, and the cold seeps through eventually.”

He gives you a sassy look, but it’s true, so he knows he can’t really argue. “Alright.”

“Plus if you’re trying a new recipe, it’s going to take even longer for you to find everything you need. And then the recipe won’t have enough detail, so you’ll sit there for five minutes, debating if you should use brown sugar or light brown sugar.”

“Okay, you’ve made your point!” You smile in satisfaction. “I’ll go by myself. Won’t take more than an hour.”

“Two, maybe.”

He glares at you, but you only laugh. Kai, by now, is harmless to you. You can poke and prod him all you want and know he won’t hurt you. Maybe if his family put a little trust in him, they would’ve known that, too.

“I’m leaving in ten.”

“Okay. Be safe from any vortexes that could contain aliens coming to invade our planet.”

He stares at you, then gives a playful roll of his eyes. You laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~

It doesn’t make sense. You’ve flipped your room about a thousand times in the last hour and nothing, not a single one of your lost items have appeared. It’s actually driving you insane. On second thought, you might be going insane. You know internally that stuff doesn’t just disappear in this world. Some things might return to the way they were before - the Dookie album annoyingly starts at “Burnout” every morning that Kai presses play; the grocery store is always fully stocked, no matter how many bags of chips you take in a single day - but things don’t just get lost. The prison world has structure, in its own extremely aggravating way. If something’s missing, you lost it.

But you’ve flipped your room three times to no avail. If something’s missing, it must not be in your room at all. You sigh, sitting in the middle of your now-messy room, and think. It is possible that they got mixed up in the laundry with Kai’s stuff and neither of you noticed. Of course, that doesn’t account for your two missing chapsticks, but maybe those were in pockets that ended up in the laundry, too. You crinkle your nose at the thought. If that’s the case, that chapstick and the hoodie it’s in are definitely ruined.

With the new idea in your mind, you head to the laundry room to check it out. It’s a rather long walk down the hall and to your left, making you wonder, again, whose house - sorry, mansion - this is in the present day, and could they be living here now, in the real world? You and Kai have talked about it before, made bets on the residents’ identities and personalities. Kai thinks it’s the mayor’s, and that he’s some oldish rich guy with a trophy wife, who needed to live far away from his “village” to exude “dominance,” as if this were the middle ages. That, or a thousand year old witch who moved out here to never be bothered. You swear it’s vampires, but he always shakes his head, “that’s not a thing.” You think otherwise.

But regardless of who lives in the house, you can both agree it’s an insane amount of house for anyone. Though, neither can complain about the dungeon in the basement. It’s a nice touch. In fact, every house should have one.

The laundry room checks out to be clean. There’s not a single sign of anything missing or out of place, and by this point, you just feel like giving up. Maybe the laundry ate them in the way it always seems to eat one sock. Oh well, because the constant search is only stressing you out. You stand there bored for a moment while trying to think of something to do. You could read; the library downstairs must have a thousand different books. Or, you could snoop the mansion. Kai’s shown you tons of stuff he’s found over the years: diaries, letters, secrets. Whoever lived here has quite the story to tell, but those things aren’t always easily found. The letters had been hidden in books, and between closely stacked books, and the most telling diary he’s found was in the floorboard of the furthest room on the right. Surely there’s more that Kai hasn’t discovered yet.

You decide, then, that the best entertainment will be to snoop around the old Victorian home, because… why not? You can’t settle down enough to read, and when has anyone not had fun digging into other people’s business? After all, that’s what got you sent to the prison world in the first place.

A part of you is most curious about the dungeon, so you decide to start there when something in the corner of your eye makes you pause. A lock, uncharacteristically on Kai’s bedroom door. It’s odd, considering the openness between you two; you’ve never felt the need to hide things from each other, and you’re not sure when he started feeling differently. You stare at it, curious and a bit hurt, before inserting your nail into the hole on the bottom. Again, you ended up here by pissing off one Parker, what’s stopping you from egging on another? And what would Kai possibly do to you that would hurt you? Like you told yourself earlier, towards you, he’s completely harmless.

In a couple minutes’ time, you finally free the lock of its duty and push the door open. Inside, it looks normal. He’s always been clean and his room is no exception. You’ve seen it before, when he didn’t feel the need to put a suspicious lock on it, and it looks the same then as it does now. Still… that little weasel is hiding something, and you’ll be damned if you don’t at least peek. You step further inside, leaving the door wide open so you can hear if he comes back.

To your displeasure, a five minute search yields no secrets. You’ve looked under his bed, in his drawers, and everywhere else that’s definitely invading his privacy, but hey, you were under the impression that there was no privacy in the prison world. You start your way back to the door, but then open the closet you had previously ignored, just in case. It checks as normal, but then… up high, in the corner, sits a little box out of reach. And by out of reach, you mean even for Kai, who’s rather tall, meaning even he would need a stool to retrieve it. Curiosity quickly gets the better of you and you fetch the nearest stool to grab it. Something this well hidden must be fun. And who knows, maybe it’s the residents’ mystery box, and Kai doesn’t even know it’s there? At least, that’s what you tell yourself to excuse your nosiness.

Though, immediately upon opening it, that’s proven to definitely not be the case.

A whiff of perfume floods your nose the moment you take off the lid. It’s familiar, and warm, and quickly, you realize it’s yours. Then, your heart drops at the first thing inside - something he should not have, and frankly, shouldn’t even exist - which is a polaroid of you. Specifically, of you on your side, asleep, bare chested, with your comforter just barely covering your hips. Your spine is the main focus of the shot, but a little bit of your exposed breast shows. You drop it with a gasp. It flutters down and lands in a different place than where you had picked it up, revealing more. Each polaroid in the stack shows more and more of your body in every shot. Sometimes, your breasts are covered by a thin, lacy piece, but more often than not, your top is completely bare. Your comforter, luckily, stays at your hips, and the one or two times it slips further, you’re covered in your favorite floral set, but then you pause. That particular set disappeared a while ago, and now, you think you know why.

Dropping the polaroid, you remove all the photos from the box to reveal what’s hidden underneath, and oh, does it shock you. Instantly, you eye your favorite set, causing you to swallow hard. Your perfume’s also in the box, alongside all your missing items: your chapsticks, bracelets, and three more pieces of your clothes. That rat. He’s been taking your things the whole time! Then giving no more than a shrug when you bring it up. Kai has been sneaking into your room at night, taking pictures of you and stealing your things, then acting none the wiser in the day. You try to feel angry, but you’re more shocked than anything.

Hesitantly, you pick up a pair of your underwear, inspecting it as if you can’t believe it’s really there. You roll your eyes in disbelief as it slips off your finger, back down into the incriminating box.

A knock raps on the doorframe. You freeze; you hadn’t heard anyone come in.

“Hey, princess,” Kai says, standing there, “like what you see?”

Your mouth falls open, a thousand words rising up your throat, but none of them coming out. You were shocked before, but then his sudden entrance and his laidback reaction makes you angry, and when he stands there, waiting for your response, you only find yourself shocked again. Surprised, that he’s found you digging through your stuff, yet doesn’t seem to care.

That is, unless, the anger is bubbling underneath his fond smile. You know that Kai has an unpredictable edge to him. Sometimes, he’s quiet in his anger and lets it stew before exploding. You’ve only been on the receiving end of it once, ages ago, when you were still getting used to each others’ routines and you got too much in his way. You’ve seen it since then, but not directed at you: his father, mostly; his lack of magic; his misguidance about the world. But sometimes, oftentimes, he’s short in patience and snappy in reaction. He responds to disruption the same way his father does: suddenly, mercilessly. It’s all he knows, after all.

But the Kai standing in front of you now, watching you, is neither of those things. He doesn’t seem angry or agitated. Caught off guard, certainly, but while that look is interpreted through his eyes, a small smile counters it. You stare a bit longer. Amused is more like it. He’s amused by your reaction. By you finding your clothes in his room and having no idea how to react to it. Initially, his posture held some indignation, probably because you were going through his stuff and had picked the quite secure lock to do so, but any ill feeling dissipates at the look on your face you’re sure is amusing to him.

You try to replace your shocked look with a stern one. He only laughs.

“Want to tell me why my stuff is in a box in your room, which was locked, by the way, not sure if you’re aware. Since when do we lock our rooms, Kai?”

He looks surprised by your sudden snap. Good. Unfortunately, he recovers quickly.

“Want to tell me why you’re going through my stuff in the first place?”

You scoff. “I think the more pressing matter is the fact that you’ve been stealing my clothes! And- and- not only stealing, but look at this-” you toss a polaroid at him as if he hasn’t seen, taken, them himself- “how long have you been lurking in my room while I’m asleep?! Taking pictures of me sleeping? Not caring if I’m literally nude in half of them?!”

“I’d argue the nude ones are the best ones,” he says with a shrug.

You scoff again. “What would possess you to do this? Why are you taking my stuff?”

“Y’know, princess… What’s funny to me is that your questions are just questions.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“You’re asking questions simply to know the answers. A playful curiosity. There’s no anger in your tone, no spite in your words.”

“Oh, I’m angry, Kai. I’m pretty fucking pissed off right now.”

He only chuckles. “Still not hearing it. See, I know anger. Anger’s my father, who has a harsh bark but a nastier bite. You, my angel,” he crouches down in front of you now, “have no bite.”

“Fuck you.” You push his shoulder. He barely sways, but you were kind of hoping to knock him over. You wait a moment, then try again.

Kai, though, easily predicts your actions and grabs your wrist as soon as it comes within his reach. He holds on with a tight grip and you almost lose your balance.

“Let go,” you grumble, raising your other fist. It only makes it halfway before he grabs that one, too. “Kai.” You struggle in his hands. “What the fuck? Let go of me.”

“Ah, ah.” He tilts his head to the side, a look that means nothing but trouble. “You were a bad girl to go through my stuff.”

“It’s my stuff, actually.”

“It became mine the minute it crossed the threshold of this house. You became mine.”

“What the fuck does that mean? This isn’t even your house!”

“But it is my prison world. Built for me when I committed a crime so heinous, they felt the need to lock me up. But you… what are you in here for? Stealing a book?”

“It was a grimoire, you fuck. Your father’s. So clearly my crime was equally heinous and they sent me here, too. The moment I got dropped here, this no longer became just your world.”

“You raise a good point. But still, I was here first. And I’m the oldest of my siblings, so I can tell you what to do.”

“You have a twin,” you counter, “who’s probably older than you by now, considering neither of us have aged, and you’ve been here sixteen years already. She’s probably… thirty-eight by now? Probably married, has some kids, a nice house.”

“Stop talking,” he snaps, tightening his grip on your wrists. They burn, but it doesn’t bother you. Egging him on is more fun. The tight cord of his control is breaking.

“I’m just saying. Oh, and your younger twins, the two you didn’t get to kill. They’re, uh, twenty, now, I think. I saw them, actually, when I broke into your father’s house. They’re both blonde, wherever that gene came from.”

“Y/N-”

“Jo wasn’t there. Not sure where she went. Probably does have a house somewhere. Somewhere far, far, away from fucking Portland. Good for her, that place is a shithole.”

His grip tightens, his body almost shaking with anger now. “Stop. Talking.”

“Or what? Are you gonna attack me?” You put on your best puppy eyes. “Show me your bite’s worse than your bark? Because I’m just proving to you that I can bite. Don’t like it, do you? Yeah, well, I didn’t like finding my lingerie in a box in your room, but I guess we all can’t get what we want.”

Whether it was your words or the sass in your tone, he finally breaks. With a sudden force, Kai pushes your fists into your own chest, knocking you to the floor. You gasp a little as your head hits the wood, but you have no time to dwell on it as he climbs on top of you, pinning your fists now over your head.

“You want to see me bite, is that it? Don’t think I have it in me because you’ve never seen it for yourself? I can be ruthless, Y/N, I can make you regret-” he pauses, jaw dropping as he realizes you’re giggling.

“Regret what?” You urge. “Were you saying something?”

“You’re playing with fire, Y/N.” His eyes are dark, but not in a way that scares you. Instead, his pupils are dilated so much they look dark. He stares into you desperately, gaze fighting between your lips and your neck, as if unsure where to attack first.

“And yet I’m just a girl, laying under a boy, asking to get burned.”

He doesn’t get the quote. It’s after his time. But the message is clear: you’re under him and you’re not fighting to get up; you provoked him enough just to send him off the edge; you were never really that mad about the pictures or the clothes.

He pauses. Okay, maybe you were a little mad about it. He did go out of his own way to creep across your boundaries. But still… had he not, you would’ve never ended up in this position. You should probably thank him for that.

You swallow, with difficulty because of the way you’re laying, and his eyes drop to the bob in your throat. He snaps out of a daze.

It happens before you know it, his lips on yours. He starts soft, waiting for you to reciprocate, and the moment you do, he gets rougher, more confident, as if this is something he’s always wanted, but he’s so unfamiliar with being able to touch, that he holds back at first.

You’re much less hesitant, though. You offer kindness to him through your words, but you’ve never touched him much, knowing how foreign it is to him. You’ve wanted to give in, to hug and hold him and kiss his cheek before you go to bed, but you were never sure how to bring it up. He’s guarded in his emotions. They’re there, but they’re locked away with a key you haven’t been able to pick. But this, maybe, is the first step.

You’re not sure when you stood up, or if he picked you up, but in a second, you’re off the wood and plopped down on his bed. The pillow beneath you smells like your perfume and you raise an eyebrow at him. He tilts his head again - no comment. He’s kissing you again before you can say anything, effectively distracting you from the whole thing. One hand props himself up over you, while the other lightly grasps your neck. Both of your hands are tangled in his hair, scratching and pulling gently. You break the kiss, out of breath, and he trails his lips down your neck instead. Your back arches instinctively, and a giggle escapes your throat at a sweet spot. In a matter of seconds, he sucks a bruise into your skin before moving down further. Your shirt, very much in the way, is pulled up and off, followed by your shorts. You copy the action, pulling his own off him and immediately letting your hands explore his chest. It’s only fair, you think, considering all the times he’s welcomed himself to the sight of your body.

Distracted, you miss him pulling off your underwear until they’re dangling on one finger in your face. You tilt her own head in confusion, then feel your jaw drop as he throws them in the box.

“Mine.” He winks.

“No! Kai-”

You’re cut off by your own moan, provoked by the feeling of his touch on your bare body. He smiles, clearly pleased with himself, and touches again.

“Those are mine,” you try to argue.

“Are they?”

With a new bite, you lunge forward and surprise him, bringing him pause. You take control for thirty seconds, unbuckling his belt and sliding off his jeans and boxers. A gasp escapes his throat, the cold air hitting his cold, now exposed body, in addition to you seeing him for the first time.

“These are mine then.” You toss his jeans on the floor, but keep his boxers like a prize in your hands.

His look is unimpressed. “You wish.” He tackles you easily, prying the material out of your hands to ball up and throw, laying you back down, crawling over your body, licking his lips, eyeing you like prey. It happens too fast for you to react, and before you know it, you’re forced back into submission, him dominating easily.

“Y’know, for someone not used to touch,” you pant, relishing in the feeling of his lips around your nipple, “you sure seem to know what you’re doing.”

“Instinct, baby.”

“Oh, really?”

He shuts up any further remark by meeting his body to yours, erect cock rubbing against your clit in a way that turns your brain to mush. “Yeah, really.” You don’t fight back this time. “So easy to please,” he mutters, his fingers moving to your clit at the feeling of precum rising up.

“Stop teasing,” you whine, growing desperate.

“Not teasing, princess. Just getting you ready.”

Pressure builds like a coil low in your stomach. You squirm, arching your back and shivering in pleasure, at the same time you mutter, “don’t stop.”

“Don’t move, then, baby.”

You try your hardest to listen, but it’s almost impossible with the way he’s touching you. The long fingers you’ve always admired rubbing in perfect circles. The lust in his eyes as he draws you closer and closer. The wetness on your thigh where his aching cock drips with its own need.

“Kai-” you cry for a second as he stops. He spits on your clit, then laps it up with his tongue, sucking now, while his fingers open you up below. “Fuck.”

“You okay, princess?”

“Mhm,” you nod weakly.

The coil’s so close to snapping. You won’t survive much longer, not with the way his tongue works so beautifully against the sensitive spot, and especially not when he looks up at you from his position, eyes still dark with lust, yet focused, as if this is the most important thing in the world.

“Kai-”

“Mhm?” He asks without detaching. The vibration that it causes is what finally breaks you. With an eager moan, you finally come, the force of it shaking your legs and core. Kai sucks you through it and only lets up when you start begging, “please, please, please, I can’t-”

He ceases, and immediately crashes his lips onto yours, letting you taste yourself in his mouth.

“You okay?” He asks between wet, open-mouthed kisses.

“Mhm.”

“Alright, good girl. Ready?”

“Please.”

Of course he can’t deny you when you ask so politely.

With a deep kiss, he distracts you enough to push in. You take him well until you’re almost full, gasping into his mouth and sinking into the mattress. You squirm a bit more, body reacting to the sudden intrusion, but settle around him soon enough.

“We’re good?”

“Good.”

“Let me know if you need to stop.”

He starts slowly, pulling out a little ways and pushing back in, kissing you sweetly as he does. But then as your body adjusts and clenches around him, he picks up the pace to an even speed. His mouth drops from your lips to your neck, sucking more bruises into your delicate skin. You keep your hands tangled in his hair, pulling, grasping, moaning more as the pressure starts to build again.

“Y’know,” you stutter, trying to speak as he thrusts. “Making me come once isn’t going to make up for you stealing my underwear.”

You can feel his smile grow against your skin. “Oh really?” He presses a kiss to your neck. “How about twice? Three times? Four?”

The color drains from your face at the thought of coming four times in one day. You really need to learn to stop challenging him. “I-”

“Yeah, four sounds good. Let’s try for that.”

He has slowed down a little to make conversation, but as soon as his mind is made, he picks his pace back up. His troublemaking smirk stares into you, waiting to see if you’ll challenge him again, then falls back on your neck once he sees he’s won.

In the end, Kai holds true to his promise and coaxes three more orgasms out of you before his hips stutter. He pulls out and releases on your stomach, panting hard. You lay beside each other, completely exhausted and overstimulated, until he finally drags you up and into the bathroom. In a way, you do win, because he dresses you in his own clothes - boxers and a hoodie - before pulling you downstairs with him. You’re still determined to get your clothes back somehow, but as your eyes flutter sleepily still, you decide to table that for another day.

That evening, when you settle down for your usual nightly movie, you find yourself laying against his chest with his arm around your waist. He seems more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him, and the noticeable difference makes you smile.

“If you wanted to touch me, you could’ve just asked,” you half-tease.

“Hm.”

“I like you, too, y’know.” He finally looks away from the tv, eyes dropping to you instead. “Way before all of this. I’ve had a crush on you for ages.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Fear of losing you?” You shrug. “Not only are we the only people here, but… you’re also the only person I’ve felt ever close to in my life. I didn’t want to do something that would make you uncomfortable, or make you hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” he admits. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “And I think I’m the one who crossed the ‘uncomfortable’ boundary.”

You laugh. “Yeah, you did. You crossed a very big boundary.” You tilt your head and run your tongue across your lips. “But… it doesn’t make me uncomfortable with you. Nor angry. Maybe in the moment, but certainly not now. Actually… it’s kinda hot, now that I think about it.”

Despite his passing nervousness, he can’t help but laugh. “I did say you’d be playing with fire.”

“Guess I should’ve headed the warning.”

You curl closer into him, adoring the way he responds so quickly, running a hand through your hair and dancing his fingers on your skin. It’s easier than ever to relax around him. Right now, this prison world feels like anything but a prison.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the night, you sneak into his room, polaroid in hand. It’s rather easy, the lock is gone now and his door is cracked open, practically inviting you in. You tiptoe up to his bed, focusing the camera on Kai’s shirtless form and snap a quick photo, snickering to yourself. But then, as the old machine whirrs in action, your target opens an eye. You back up, glancing between the boy in the bed and the door. He groans, laughing on the tail end of the tired sound.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Karma, baby.”

“Mhm, good try.” He eyes you in a way that sends a shiver up your spine. “Y’know… the way I got so many of you is because I was quiet.”

“Uh-” You look at the door again - big mistake. The moment your eyes are off him, his arms around your waist. “Ah, Kai!” You screech, head hitting his pillow for the second time that day.

He positions himself on top of you, practically sitting on you, and takes the camera from your hands. “Tip number one, snap the picture and leave before the camera starts to sputter.” He sets it on the nightstand. “Tip number two, stalk someone who’s a little less obsessed with you. That way, they might not be able to hear your every move.” Before you can reply, he’s kissing you again, with as much passion as he had only hours ago.

#malachai parker x reader #kai parker x reader #kai parker smut #kai parker oneshot #tvd fanfiction

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lowkeyerror · 1 year ago

Text

The Family Business Ch.8

WandaNatxReader

Word Count: 3k

Ch notes: Angst, Nightmares, Fighting

Summary: The family copes with the situation revolving Dragos

An: Sorry for posting so late.... hope you like it. Also posting from my phone, so sorry formatting issues.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

“ Enough time has passed Wanda. We have to act now before we lose everything,” you speak to the woman in her office.

“I'm not ready for war Y/n,” She tries to dismiss you.

“Detka, I think she’s right. If we wait any longer it could, everything your father built would be over,” Natasha backs you up.

Wanda puts her head down on the desk, "I don't think I can do this.”

“It’s just like we planned, Wanda. Nat and I have everything on standby to close the ports, we’re just waiting on your word,” you speak softly to her.

“Fine, just do it,” she waves her hand, but doesn’t move her face from it’s place on the desk.

She had been like this for nearly two weeks. The shooting of her father seemed to hit her the hardest. She felt like she wasted too much time away from him and now he was gone.

The only way you were functioning was hope that he would wake up. He wasn’t gone, he was just in a coma. People recover from being in comas, they wake up. You just keep telling yourself that Dragos would be waking up soon.

“Wanda, maybe you should go home, I can handle this,” your eyes are full of worry, but your voice is firm.

“I’m capable of running this business Y/n,” she snaps back at you.

“ I know you are, that’s why they put you in charge. However, this is not a one man job Wanda. Dragos had days where he needed someone to take charge. I’m one of those people. Whether he’s sitting in that seat or you’re sitting in that seat, I’m going to continue to be that person. Now go home.”

She looks at you with something you’ve never seen before. It makes your brow furrow. The intensity of her stare isn’t malicious, but it’s unfamiliar to you.

“I’ll take you baby,” Nat offers, taking Wanda’s attention away from you.

Wanda takes one more look at you before agreeing to go with her wife.

“Stop by after work, I don’t care how late it is,” her demand makes you want to gulp, but you hold it and nod.

She’s out of the door first. You share a look with Natasha as you take s seat at the desk.

“I’ll be back, I can have everything ready for tonight,” the spy says.

“Thank you, Natasha.”

She leaves and you get to work immediately. You call in your dealers and suppliers to inform them of potential uptick in all products your pushing to prepare them adequately. You call your supposed allies, you’re vague but they know it’s a threat. More than threat, but a test of loyalty. Some of them dismiss you as you aren’t Dragos, but you’re sure by morning they’ll come around or go out of business.

There had been too much silence on your side of the business. Fisk was parading around the city saying that he killed Dragos. The lack of movement from your side of things only made it seem true.

Wanda had been placed temporarily in charge of the business while Dragos was out of commission. However, she wasn't emotionally prepared for this yet. None of you were in actuality, you all needed more time.

“ Where’s Wanda?” Pietro strolls into the office.

Your eyes are locked on the screen, “ Sent her home.”

“You’re running things today?”

You nod, “We’re going through with the plan to shut down the pier tonight. I put out some feelers, stayed pretty vague. I know they'll get on board when there's no other option.”

“You sound like him,” Pietro chuckles.

“I hope so, I got brushed off by one too many people over the phone. We need to let them know we aren’t weak. We will not be usurped, we are this city and it’s time to remind them.”

Pietro agrees, “My eyes and ears on the street have been telling me about Kingpin He’s telling others he fixed the Maximoff issue. We need to get a handle on this.”

“They will be dealt with and I’ll save Fisk for last. Next time I wont miss when I shoot,” your jaw clenches.

“How are you holding up?” He asks, taking in your appearance.

The bags under your eyes spoke for themselves. You hadn’t been sleeping well, getting 3 hours seems like a blessing some days.

“Not well, but I’ll be alright.”

“You haven’t been sleeping.”

You sigh, “How can I rest well, knowing that the man who has taken someone important from me walks around the streets celebrating it? It’s like he’s taunting me.”

Pietro’s hand lands on your shoulder, “We’re going to get him Y/n, I swear.”

Natasha strolls back into the room, “I’ve got everything set we're just waiting on nightfall.”

“Good, I’m almost done here. I’ve got some paperwork to get through and if it’s not too late, maybe we can carpool?”

Natasha smiles, “I’ll wait for you, it’s no problem.”

“I guess we’ll leave you to it Don Y/n,” Pietro jokes as he pats your shoulder before exiting the office, Natasha’s following behind him.

The paperwork takes longer than expected. You’re exhausted by the end of it, your eyes are strained as you finish the last of it up.

When Natasha comes to check on you , she can tell you’ve dissociated from the work you’re doing. It looks mindless yet stressful at the same time. You don’t even notice she's standing there for another 10 minutes.

“Ok you’re done, lisichka. Time to go home,” Natasha’s voice startles you.

You give her little protest, moving out of the seat. Your bones crack and you let out a yawn as you grab your belongings.

“Wanda’s going to need help tomorrow. The lines should be busy. We can open them up so Kate and I can help filter orders,” you mumble as you leave the office.

“No more work talk, we’re out of the office,” Natasha reminds you.

You let out a tired laugh, “Now you’re sounding like a Maximoff."

“I am married to one,” she says as the two of you get in her car.

“I don't know who's luckier you or her.”

Natasha quirks an eyebrow as she begins to dive, “I’m pretty sure it's me.”

“You’re good for her too; don't discredit yourself. Wanda has always been a caregiver of sorts. She wants to take care of everyone. It's nice to see she has someone who can take care of her,” your eyes begin to close as you speak.

“You’ve taken care of her before. When she was fighting with Pietro, the whole situation with Dragos; you kept her grounded,” Natasha points out.

You shrug lightly, “I couldn't when I was younger.”

Natasha glances at your nearly sleeping figure, “You were just a child, lisichka.”

“I was fragile, she needed someone strong,” you feel sleep overtaking you.

Natasha goes to respond, but hears you snoring softly, “I don't think you could've ever been fragile.”

The spy doesn't wake you when you arrive at the condo. Instead she carefully removes you from the car and carries you up to her door. She rings the bell unable to get her keys while holding you.

When Wanda opens the door her eyes soften at the sight of you asleep in her wife’s arm.

“I didn't want to wake her. I overheard her telling Pietro she hasn't been sleeping,” Nat explains to her wife.

“Just lay her in our bed,” Wanda says, and Natasha complies.

Wanda heads to the kitchen, unable to sleep. She stays to make herself some tea.

“She cares about you a lot,” Natasha says meeting her wife in the kitchen.

Wanda just hums a response.

“You care about her a lot too,” Natasha looks to meet her wife’s gaze.

“Astute observation, sweetheart,” Wanda responds dryly.

Natasha steps into Wanda’s personal space, “You know what I’m insinuating then?”

Wanda finally looks at her wife, “No I don’t.”

“I think you're in love with her,” Natasha is gentle when she speaks.

Wanda laughs, “What are you talking about? Y/n is a part of my family. I’ve cared for her for years; healed her wounds, held her when she cried, taught her how to defend herself. Natasha, she was barley turning 17 when I met her.”

“I see the way you look at her Wanda. It’s the same way you look at me,” her tone doesn’t convey anger or sorrow.

Wanda’s laughter has yet to die down, “She’s my little brother’s best friend.”

“Then tell me why she can ground you the same way I can? Her touch calms you, her look quiets you, and her figure causes your eyes to drift. Just be honest with me Wanda.”

“Look, I love Y/n. I would do anything to keep her safe, but there’s nothing between us romantically,” Wanda gets serious for the first time in the conversation.

Natasha rolls her eyes, “You lost your mind about something from 5 years ago involving her, you were in tears when you couldn't attend her graduation, you talked about her more than your brother, mother, and father.”

Wanda’s eyes shift for a second, it’s the only sign Natasha needs. Her hand reach for her wife’s. Her thumbs pad the back of Wanda’s hand.

“Baby-”

“Natasha I can’t. I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she tries to escape but Natasha won’t let her.

“Talk to me, detka.”

For a moment it seems like Wanda is going to talk it out with her wife. However a commotion in their bedroom puts brakes to the conversation.

They both rush in that direction. In the bedroom they find you fighting in your sleep. You’re thrashing, punching, and screaming.

Wanda’s eyes go wide at the sight. The distress on your face send her into fight or flight. She wants to help, but she’s unaware of what to do.

Natasha on the other hand has had her fair share of life like nightmares. She knows how delicate of a situation that they can be.

“Easy lisichka, it’s not real,” Natasha’s voice is firm as she speaks, slowly inching towards you.

Natasha’s hand slowly reaches for your forearm. The action cause you to jerk, but Natasha is unflinching. Her hands trailing up and down your arm trying to calm you.

“Baby you’re safe here,” Natasha slips her fingers between yours.

It’s sudden the way you jolt forward into consciousness. Natasha’s arms wrap around you securely as your chest heaves up and down.

Wanda joins your side, hand running through your hair, “It’s ok, you’re ok. You’re safe little krolik.”

You sniffle a couple of times. Before realizing the position you're in. You sit in a bed that you can only assume belongs to the two women, that are slowing your erratic heart rate.

“I uh- I fell asleep in the car,” you say pushing the women away from you slightly.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead and then rub at your eyes roughly. The feeling of embarrassment starts to creep in on you.

“ You did, exhausted from all that work and no sleep,” Natasha says.

You nod lightly, “As you can see I have a hard time with sleeping.”

“It’s like that every night?” Wanda’s voice was laced with concern.

You try to laugh it off, “I get by with the little sleep I get before the nightmares.”

“Y/n, we’re being serious,” Wanda’s use of your actual name startles you a bit.

You take a deep breath, “Nearly every night since the shooting. But I’m a big girl guys, I’ve got it under control.”

“Wanda’s been having trouble sleeping too. If I leave just for a second, she starts panicking pretty bad,” Natasha mentions, causing her wife to glare at her.

Wanda crosses her arms over her chest defensively and that’s how you know Natasha is telling the truth.

“I’ve been trying to run a company and a business. There’s no time for a comfortable rest.”

It was your turn to give a stern look, “You won’t be able to lead well if all your senses are weakened from lack of sleep.”

“And how much sleep did you get last night before so graciously kicking me out of the office today?” She counters and your face heats up.

“It's not like I don't want to sleep. I’ve tried a bunch of shit, but nothing is enough for the nightmares. It’s triggering, you know because not only are the nightmares themselves intense, but having them in the first place reminds me the ones I used to have about my family.”

Though you've arguably been vulnerable with both of these women before, it feels harder this time. It feels like they are seeing a piece of you that is supposed to be neatly tucked away. Yet you’re too tired to hide it and you trust them not to use it against you.

“If you’re comfortable with it, I know something that might help,” Natasha offers.

“I’m willing to try anything,” you give her your full attention.

“Stay here with us tonight,” her eyes pierce through yours.

“Here as in…”

“The bed, yes,” Natasha elaborates.

Almost reflexively you look to Wanda to find her staring at her wife. The look isn’t entirely inviting and you take note of that.

You look directly towards Wanda as you speak, “I don't want to impose or be anymore of an inconvenience than I already have. I can actually just go home and try again.”

You attempt to get out of bed, but Wanda places a hand on your chest, keeping you down, “Y/n, you will never be an inconvenience to me. I don't want to keep you here if you’re uncomfortable, but if Nat thinks this could help you then I think it’s worth a shot.”

Your skin is hot under her hand, and you hope she can’t feel the way your heart is beating. It truly shouldn’t feel like such a big deal, you’ve laid with Wanda before . You knew what it was like to have her arms tightly secured around you while she played with your hair until your nerves died. Something about it felt more innocent then.

Now that you were both adults and Wanda was married, it almost seemed like crossing a line.

“What if this works?” You say looking between the couple. They share a quick look at each other before fixing their eyes on you.

“ We’ll cross that bridge when we get there lisichka. We should all get some rest, tomorrow will be very hectic for everyone,” Natasha again reassures you.

“ Do you want something more comfortable to sleep in?” Wanda says, as she pinches the fabric of your work shirt.

You nod lightly and not even a second later Natasha is shoving some pajamas in your hand. She points you to the direction on the restroom and you go leaving the two redheads alone for a moment.

“Natalia,” Wanda’s voice is low and cold as she speaks to her wife.

Natasha shrugs, “What was I supposed to do, Wanda? Did you see the poor girl?”

“You did this to prove a point,” Wanda keeps her voice down with much effort.

“I think you’re doing that all on your own. This is simply helping a friend out. It’s not like you haven’t shared bed with her before,” Natasha shoots back.

“T-this is different,” she stumbles over her words.

“Why?” Natasha raises an eyebrow at her wife.

“Can we drop this please?” Wanda looks away.

Her wife reaches to caress her face, “Detka, we can drop it for now but sooner or later we’re going to have to talk about your feelings.”

Wanda draws in a large breath . She focuses on the way Natasha’s thumb cascades across her cheek.

She looks at her wife, “I love you. More than anything Natalia. I would never put you through anything that I think would hurt us. This to me is the most important everything .”

“I’m not doubting that baby. I’m not asking you this question to make you pick between the two, I just want some clarity,” Natasha kisses Wanda briefly after speaking.

Before Wanda can speak again you’re back in the room. You stand awkwardly as the couple behind you to the bed.

“So, how does this work? Do you want me on the edge or in the middle or..?”

“We’re following your lead little krolik."

Alarms go off in your brain but the aren't loud enough in your sleep deprived state. You take your place at the edge of the bed, closest to Wanda.

You try your best to keep your arms stiffly to yourself. There isn't any chance that you'd willingly embarrass yourself further.

It would be so easy to put your arm around her waist. The more you think the less sleep you get.

Wanda can sense the tense state of your body. Natasha words echo in her mind and it causes her to hesitate. Usually she would’ve already taken initiative to make sure you were comfortable. However here she was, scared that the feeling of your arms around her would send her into an overload.

“Can I- ” your sentence is aided by the action of your hand coming to rest respectfully on her stomach.

Wanda doesn’t speak but her hand lands gently over yours, keeping it in place. You relax at the action and unintentionally pull the woman closer to you. Her back is flush against your front as soft snores fall from your lips. You fall asleep instantly.

She doesn't want to admit it, but being this close to you makes her heart thunder in her chest. She feels warm in your hold. It’s a new feeling.

Being held by you is different than holding you herself. Her free hand reaches out for her wife. Natasha scoots closer, to be face to face with Wanda. Her hand interlaces itself with Wanda’s.

Natasha kisses the back of Wanda’s hand, “I love you.”

“Love you more,” Wanda whispers as her eyes flutter shut.

The three women lay together. For once their minds are quiet as they sleep. It��s peaceful, something that they can revel in before the storm of the morning disrupts their peace.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat x reader #pietro maximoff

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archangeldyke-all · 7 months ago

Note

why did I see this post and immediately think of Sevika?? https://www.tumblr.com/sappho-made-me-do-it/764096234440032256?source=share I can def imagine her doing this in public because she's so damn possessive

this gif gave me shivers watching it and thinking about sevika... i've been thinking about this ask all week i'm so happy i could finally write it!!

men and minors dni

sevika's gonna blow your fucking cover.

silco sent the pair of you up, undercover, to get dirt on one of piltover's long standing aldermen. it's well known that he's got very illegal ties with a development company-- taking close to twenty percent off all their earnings in exchange for letting them start development on the longstanding zaunite promenade.

the only way you've managed to sneak into this party (held in his own fucking home because he's rich enough to live in a house with a ballroom) is by pretending to be complete strangers.

you're a cater-waiter. this was an easy cover. almost all the staff working the event are from zaun, you just picked the nearest one your size and handed them a sack of coins to trade outfits and scram for the evening. it was the easiest decision of the kid's life.

sevika's cover wasn't so easy. silco insisted that sevika shared an uncanny resemblance to a well-known socialite, but when you got there to drug the lady for the evening and disguise sev, you nearly pissed yourself laughing. perhaps the woman looked like sevika forty years ago. but now, she's a crouched over, wrinkled up, old lady.

so, she was easy to knock out. it wasn't so easy getting sevika to look old. you told her to tell her friends she got work done. she glared at you so hard you're surprised you didn't burst into flames.

but the thing is, it's not even the shitty disguise that's gonna blow it. it's the fact that she won't take her fucking hands off of you.

and, it's not a spoken rule, but people from piltover-- especially ones this rich-- do not interact with cater-waiters... and they certainly don't keep pinching said cater-waiter's ass, and trailing off to eye-fucking at you across the room mid-conversation, and trapping you in a pantry to have a steamy makeout session mid party.

and now, to make matters worse, another one of the cater-waiters is trying to flirt with you, too. and you really don't want to deal with a sevika murdering anyone tonight. it would totally blow your cover.

"so..." you think their name is zack? zane? asks. "i've got some weed. me and a couple of the dishwashers are gonna go to some topside bar after... you wanna join?" they ask.

you cringe and shake your head. "sorry, i gotta get home." you mumble, quickly grabbing the fresh plate of appetizers from him and sprinting out of the kitchen.

you bump right into sevika and groan. the wrinkles you'd painted onto her skin with eyeshadow are completely smeared and gone from earlier, and she's got her eyes pinned on the swinging door you just came from.

"did they fucking touch you?"

"do you want a bacon wrapped shrimp madame?" you ask.

sevika's glare drops momentarily, and she shoves two of the shrimp in her mouth, her eyes rolling back at the taste, and then her glare returning. "i'm gonna fucking kill them. find a way to fill a to-go box with those." she growls, pointing at the plate.

you giggle and take a quick look around, making sure nobody's looking, before swooping in to kiss her cheek. "they didn't touch me. i won't let them. please just play along for a little longer so we can ditch this lame ass party and go home." you whisper.

sevika sighs, then crouches back over in her old lady posture. "fine." she grunts, turning around and shuffling back to the party. you chuckle, and she flips you off over her shoulder.

she doesn't drop it.

to be fair... zin(?) does make a pass at you again. they find you refilling the refreshments and wrap their arm around you like you're familiar, or something.

sevika sees it, and your stomach drops. you're pretty sure you can see steam coming out of her ears.

you duck out of their arm and scurry across the ballroom, shoving the bag of ice you're carrying into the nearest uniform's arms.

sevika's storming across the floor (much faster than any old lady should) and you meet her right in the center, one finger pointed out and a nasty glare on your face.

sevika freezes, half a foot from you, her eyes darting between whats-their-name and you.

"we are surrounded by hundreds of people. do not blow your cover." you whisper-shout.

sevika deflates again, and you think that's the end of it. you quickly turn around to leave the dance floor, but sevika grabs your wrist, and pulls you back into her chest.

you gasp-- and before you can say anything, she's licking one long stripe up your neck.

you shudder, your eyes falling shut for just a moment, before you pry them open to make sure nobody saw, giving a firm elbow to the gut. sevika just chuckles, and from the sound of silverware clattering to the ballroom floor, you know whats-their name saw too.

"i'm gonna fucking kill you." you mutter.

"i look forward to it." sevika giggles, giving your ass a firm pat before walking away.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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t0yac1d · 11 months ago

Text

My Juliet, my special girl (C. Diaz x Fem!Reader)

I hope that she looks at me and thinks, "Shit, he is so pretty"

Warnings: gang violence, death, after Olivia's Quince, blood, contemplating suicide

Word Count: 889

It was the morning after Olivia's Quince. The morning after a beautiful party. The morning after Latrelle shot Ruby and killed Olivia.

"It's all my fault."

"I shouldn't have shown mercy to Latrelle."

"I shouldn't have gone after him in the first place."

Cesar blamed and hated himself deeply.

He hated what happened to Ruby and Olivia because in his eyes, that should’ve been him.

In his eyes, that should’ve been him who got shot.

In his eyes, that should’ve been him who got killed.

I need to cry, but I can't get anything out of my eyes,

Cesar sat on the edge of his bed, eyes filled with frustrated tears that threatened to spill but they wouldn’t fall. No matter how upset he was, they wouldn’t pour.

Or my head.

And oh my god, the night. That night kept repeating in his brain.

The sound of the gunshot.

The sound of Ruby screaming his name before getting shot.

The sounds of Geny and Ruben screaming as their son lay on the ground, bleeding out.

Every little detail played continuously in his brain. It was like a record player stuck in a loop.

Did I die? I need to run,

Days went by without Cesar coming out of the house. He felt like an empty body, just moving on its own throughout the day.

but I can't get out of bed for anyone.

He was scared.

Not of Latrelle or any gang member after him.

But of his friends and Ruby’s family.

What if they all hated him? He wouldn’t blame them, but this was the last thing he expected that would break the group up.

He couldn’t get out of bed to see anyone.

Not for you,

Not even for the girl he wanted to live for.

When he did get the courage to go outside, he went to school first. He wanted to see if everyone still wanted to be his friend. Because if not, then he’d just apologize and go away. Leave their lives for good and keep them out of harm’s way.

When Cesar got to school, no one greeted him. It was like he didn’t exist.

He hated how no one talked to him, but he couldn’t blame them. He took their friend away.

Cesar skipped a couple classes that day. He just sat in an empty and dark classroom, silently sobbing and crying.

My sour boy is a pain,

His chest hurt with each sob he let out,

I wanna shoot him in the brain,

He doesn’t deserve to live. It should’ve been him instead of Olivia.

He feels like if he died, everything would be better for his friends.

but I'd miss him in the morning.

But a part of him says that this isn’t the way to think. That what happened has already happened and there’s not much to do about it but move on and make amends.

It really hurts when I need to so bad, but I can't see her..

He missed you,

My Juliet,

He missed you so dearly.

My special girl.

The only girl that can really, truly help him through a time like this.

But I need to understand when I can power through,

Because he knows you’ll get him through this, and help guide him to the right choice here.

Cesar pulled his phone out with shaky hands and sent a text to you, he was sure there were a few words that were misspelled, but you’ll understand what he meant. Hopefully.

He sat in that classroom, patiently waiting for you to come to him. But this time alone helped him think to himself, about himself.

Sometimes I act like I know, but I'm really just a kid.

He’s just a kid. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. All he’s really doing is causing problems.

With two corks in his eyes, and a bully in his head.

And hurting those around him because of his actions.

I wanna make a colour that no one else has seen before

He wants to get out and do something with his life. He doesn’t want to be stuck in the gang for the rest of his life.

I wanna be so much more

He wants to show everyone that he can make something of himself. That he’s not “Little Spooky”. That he’s Cesar Diaz.

You walked into the classroom and saw Cesar sitting on the floor. You walked over to him and sat with him. You didn’t say anything to him, you just sat there and looked at him with a slight frown.

You didn’t like this. He looked so exhausted.

He had dark eye bags under his eyes, and even then they were red and puffy from the crying. He had tear marks on his face and his clothes were disheveled.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, resting his head on your shoulder, as you rubbed his back and lightly scratched his head while you held him.

“It’s ok Cesar.”

He leaned back and looked at you with teary eyes, wondering what was running in your head as you saw him like this.

I hope that she looks at me and thinks, "Shit, he is so pretty”

The one thing that was running through his mind at this moment was how you thought of him.

Something I can't believe..

#fem reader #female reader #spotify #on my block #on my block x reader #on my block x femreader #caesar diaz x femreader #cesar diaz x reader #on my block cesar diaz #Spotify #angst #on my block angst #cesar diaz angst #i've always felt so bad for cesar :(

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filipfatalattractionrblog · 6 months ago

Text

The thing about Episode 7, Jayvik and Timebomb

We like to joke about the whiplash from constantly shifting between Ekko's visit in paradise and Jayce's suffering, but....

I actually have to put the shipping googles back on for this one.

When Ekko and Jayce meet, Timebomb and Jayvik have basically been torpedoed. Ekko almost killed Jinx last season, and only hesitated at the last moment. He spent so much time telling himself Powder is dead and Jinx killed her, but now he is no longer so sure. Jayce meanwhile kept drifting away from Viktor and every time he thought he would bring them back together, he would fumble, last time they meet he was yelling, unable to understand why Viktor given up on him, as if Jayce haven't broken every promise he made to him by not destorying the hexcore and by weaponizing hextech. Ships aren't completely sunk, but they're gaining water fast.

And then the Wild Rune sent Jayce and Ekko to different worlds. Ekko gets the world that could have been, Jayce gets one that may be.

Ekko's life in a near-utopian version of Zaun quickly focuses on him falling in love with Powder that could have been. And why wouldn't he fall in love with her? Shems a genius, she's funny, she's creative...but I think with time he realizes that all these things can still be found in Jinx. He realizes Jinx didn't kill Powder, Jinx is Powder lashing out in pain.

And yet, this Powder is not free of pain either. It's different pain, that he actually stupidly pokes early on. Pain caused by different trauma, which she got to deal with, while having a better support network, but sitll present (I have seen somewhere a good argument she shows signs of depression, but forgot where). It's not that she deals with her pain better than Jinx, it's just different. And I see with time Ekko realizes that and realizes how wrong it would be to give up on Jinx, that the same person he loves is in her world, but she has no one to be for her what this Powder has in her Ekko, Mylo, Claggor, Vander and Silco (that last one is an assumption on my part, it's unclear how close he is with Powder in this world, but considering he apparently co-runs the bar with Vander, he has to be present in her life in some way). When Ekko decides to come back, he isn't doing it only because it would be unfair to Ekko of this timeline and to Powder and everyone who loves that Ekko. He also does it because he realzied what an asshole he'd be to give up on Jinx.

And remember, he has no fucking idea about the seven hells of bullshit that went down in his world when he was absent. He doesn't know about martial law, about Warwick, about Viktor, about Noxus. He's coming back expecting to deal with his tree being sick and Chem-Barons war.

Now let's look what Jayce goes through. He gets sent to hell where his dream goes horribly wrong, yes. But what quickly happens to him? He breaks his leg falling down the chasm. He ends at the very bottom of where Piltover used to be. Correction, where Zaun used to be. The enviroment is slowly poisoning him. He is forced to fight every second to survive. Poisoned by enviroment, limping, forced to use leg splint and a staff as a crutch. Sounds familiar? Moreover, he is then forced to climb his way from the bottom all the way to the highest tower of Piltover. I'm surprised more people aren't talking about this, the metaphor is laid down pretty thick. Jayce gets crash course version of Viktor's life, he is literally forced to walk miles after miles in his shoes. They even made his leg splint look like one League of Legends' Viktor had until 2024.

he never really could understand where Viktor is coming from, even at his lowest he still was a minor noble house, he still lived in good part of the town. And sure, he and Viktor became close, but then Jayce got seduced by the fame, by glamour, by being man of progress, by being savior of the future, by cushy council seat. Power makes it hard to see evil, and privledge makes you blind to human the suffering. This experience was eye-opening to Jayce. I wonder how many times he must have stopped himself and realize this is what Viktor goes through on daily basis. And, as we learned later, after Jayce climbed this way to the top of hell, he saw how much HE means to Viktor, how HE is the only person who can give Viktor hope and save him from his own internalized ableism. He goes back to save the world, but he also goes back to save Viktor.

These stories weren't paired jsut to fuck with us, they're pararells. Jayce and Ekko both were blinded, one by glamour, the other by hardship, they could no longer see real Viktor and Jinx, too wrapped up in the people the world forced them to become. Each one was forcefully stripped from his ideantity, and therefore his biases, and forced to actually SEE the person they love, not the false image they built, but real them. And then each one went back and each one reached to their respective love and save them. And jsut like Ekko went back in time over and over to make Jinx see he's there for her even if she hates herself, Jayce was willing to sacrifice it all to show Viktor he doesn't need to be perfect to be loved, because for Jayce he always was beautiful.

And I could probably write a whole separate essay about how this theme of tearing through your own bullshit and actually SEEING the other person is present in this season. How Jinx and Vi are forced to go through microcosm of each other's experience to rebuild their love. How Caitlyn is saved from her own descent into villainy by being forced to see how much pain she caused Vi, see a human in Warwick, see a wounded child in woman who killed her mother. How Vi stops her self-destruction by trusting Jinx and seeing Vander in Warwick. How Mel literally has to fight Illusionary Sorceres, a.k.a. LeBlac THE DECEIVER and defeats her with words "I see you". How Ambessa is the only person who doesn't go through this identity destruction this season, even i nthe opening proudly wearing red of Noxus, and that's why she fails. How Maddie being a spy is telegraphed from her first appearance, where she's blocking the sun, effectively obscuring Vi's vision and making herself harder to be seen. How Jinx and Sevika are forced to see people in one another now that Silco's gone. How even during sesbian lex Vi doesn't let Cait get bogged down in guilt because she sees the woman she loves and that's all that matters. How Ekko defeats Viktor by showing him he's wrong to think only he can achieve power of Wild Rune, but also by literally tearing off the mask of god from his eyes, so that Viktor can SEE Jayce again.

But it's 4 in the morning as I type this and I'm no longer being coherent. Episode 7 is literally the microcosm of the whole season and Ekko and Jayce go through the same character arc in it.

#arcane #arcane spoilers #arcane season 2 #timebomb #jayvik #how the fuck is this show so fucking good?!#they fucking cooked so fucking well #I wanna scream #This post was supposed to be a quick observation #and it all cascades and connects with everything else #pray for me or I'm going to have to start making video essays to put all my thoughts together #I'll have to get a mic and camera ffs

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notiddygothgf · 2 months ago

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★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ God, you're messing with my fucking head. ❞

★ c.w.: drunk reader (yikes)

★ a/n: so im lowkey not confident that i did good on that chem exam but shit a promise is a promise.... HERE SHE IS!!!! another update!! and this one??? phew... strap in children, it's a RIDE. i'm not gonna say too much bc im just so excited for you all to read this. I've been bouncing up and down trying not to spoil this one for anyone so pLEAAAAASEEEE!! keep on commenting, liking, supporting, inboxing. I love the community I've built on wattpad and tumblr for this fanfic. I'm so glad you al love it as much as I do!

★ w.c: 9k

pornstar ; chapter index

SOMEWHERE AROUND 2, you sauntered right into Public Safety’s Tokyo HQ feeling your very best. Today was your scutwork day, meaning that you would be spending the day indoors doing whatever work the higher-ups asked of you and, already, you were turning heads.

“Looking good, Kohai,” One of your coworkers whistled at you, a tiny girl by the name of Kawakami who you spoke to frequently in passing.

You smiled at her warmly, letting yourself revel in the compliment. Today, you felt your best because you were wearing your best – A form-fitting white button down top and a pencil skirt that stopped around mid-though. Your hair was done back, and you had touched your face up with some subtle makeup. A little mascara here, to make your eyes pop, and a little red lipstick there. You weren’t stupid. You knew that the skirt did nothing to hide the curves of your ass, the slope of your hips. Actually, that was the entire point.

On a mission day or a patrol day, you knew the outfit wouldn’t have flown. Today was different. Today, you were only doing paperwork.

Paperwork for one man in particular.

You knocked at the door, knuckles rapping against the wooden surface. A moment passed before you heard that cold, impassive voice responding, “Come in.”

Clutching a stack of paperwork Makima had handed you to give to him, you opened the door with your shoulder. There Aki was, dressed in that uniform that hugged his perfect body so well, broody blue eyes trained on a paper packet. When he heard you enter, he looked up at you through his lashes, not fully glancing up from the paperwork – telephone pressed to his ear.

He was so pretty, it hurt.

You smiled at him (kill them with kindness, you figured), making sure to swing your hips a little more as you approached his desk. Then, gently – oh-so gently – you leaned down and set the paperwork onto his desk.

He peered up at you, then, at your done-up face. His gaze seemed to shamelessly roam over your body, the outfit you had specifically picked out with him in mind. For a moment, you could have sworn you saw something in his gaze shift, the slightest dilation of his pupils as they lingered on your legs.

You couldn’t help but bask in the feeling – the feeling of having his attention on you.

“Excuse me for just a second,” He muttered into the phone. Holding his hand up to cover the receiver, he opened his mouth to speak, and for a moment, a part of you hoped that he would say something about your outfit – tell you to change, tell you anything, “Could you grab me a coffee from the breakroom?”

Oh, you thought. Okay, then.

Pursing your lips, you nodded, bowing slightly as you did so, “Of course.”

As you left Aki’s office, you let out a slow, steady breath, forcing yourself to keep your composure. His gaze—the weight of it lingering on your body—had sent a little thrill through your veins. It was almost pathetic how much you basked in it, how much you ached for the smallest hint of attention from him. Even just the way his eyes had dragged down your legs, the way his pupils had slightly dilated when he caught sight of your lipstick-painted lips, made something coil tight in your chest.

But now wasn’t the time to get lost in the fantasy—you had a task to complete.

The breakroom was empty when you entered, save for the low hum of the refrigerator. You moved toward the coffee machine, grabbing one of the paper cups from the stack and pressing the button to let the dark liquid pour in. The scent of bitter coffee filled the air as you leaned back against the counter, waiting for the cup to fill.

Your reflection in the metal cabinet doors caught your attention. The slight smudge of red at the corner of your lips made you frown. You had spent extra time on your makeup today for a reason—if you were going to play this game, every detail had to be just right.

You reached into your pocket, fingers curling around the smooth, gold casing of your lipstick. Twisting it open, you brought the deep red shade to your lips, carefully gliding it over your mouth. One coat, then another. Just enough to make your lips look fuller, more inviting. You pressed them together, ensuring the color settled perfectly before giving yourself one last glance in the reflection.

Satisfied, you picked up the coffee and left the breakroom.

This time, you didn’t bother knocking. You pushed the door open with your shoulder, stepping inside without hesitation. Aki was exactly where you had left him, hunched over paperwork, his focus unwavering. The warm glow of the desk lamp highlighted the sharp angles of his face—his strong jaw, the shadows beneath his cheekbones, the furrow in his brow as he concentrated.

But the second you approached, his eyes flickered up to meet yours.

Wordlessly, you bent over to set the coffee down on his desk, taking your time, ensuring your posture emphasized the curve of your body. The hem of your pencil skirt rode up just slightly, and you knew—knew—he was watching.

His gaze was on you before you even looked up. And when you finally did, there was something unreadable in his expression. Cool, composed, but something else too.

A hunger.

This tension’s gonna make me go fucking crazy.

You straightened up, smoothing the fabric of your skirt with the palm of your hand. Then, with the sweetest voice you could muster, you asked, “Do you need anything else, sir?”

It was subtle, the shift in his demeanor—but you caught it.

The faintest tension in his jaw. The way his fingers stilled against the paper. His pupils darkening just a shade.

A pause.

“I actually do have some letters I need to write,” he said at last, voice steady but slightly lower than before. “Do you have a minute?”

You nodded, tilting your head slightly, watching him.

He let out a breath, setting his pen down against the desk. “I’m so backed up on paperwork that I don’t think I’ll have the time. I need to write Kenji’s letter of termination.”

Something in your stomach twisted.

“I have a few points written here,” he added, reaching for a small post-it note. “I just need it formatted into something official.”

As he handed it to you, his fingers brushed against yours—just barely, just for a second—but the touch sent a strange shiver down your spine. You peered down at the little paper square, realizing rather suddenly that you had never seen his handwriting before. It was neat, perfect cursive – totally indicative of his personality.

“Do you think you could write up a draft for me?”

You barely heard him. Your mind had already spiraled somewhere else.

Kenji.

The memory hit you in pieces.

The way the world had blurred around the edges that night, your limbs feeling too heavy, too slow. Kenji’s hands—unwanted and rough—pressing against you. The sickening scent of alcohol on his breath as he backed you up against the wall, murmuring filth into your ear.

Your own voice, weak and slurred, as you tried to tell him to stop.

The helplessness.

The burning shame.

And now, standing here, looking at the post-it note with Kenji’s name scribbled on it, you felt something close to satisfaction coil in your chest.

You smiled, slow and sweet. “Of course.”

Taking the note from him, you slid it into the pocket of your skirt, feeling its weight settle against your hip.

“I’ll have it done by the end of the night,” you assured him.

Aki nodded once, already turning back to his work. If he noticed the slight shift in your expression—the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes—he didn’t say anything.

You turned on your heel and walked out, your heartbeat steady, your mind sharp.

You hoped this wouldn’t keep you too late. Himeno had invited you out for drinks tonight, and right about now, you wanted any excuse to get shitfaced that you could get.

Public Safety Bureau – Tokyo HeadquartersMarch 18, 2025Public Safety Devil Hunter, Division [4] Public Safety Bureau – Tokyo Headquarters

Subject: Notice of Termination of Employment

Dear Mr. Aragawa,

After a thorough review of your conduct and performance within the Public Safety Bureau, it has been determined that your employment with this organization is hereby terminated, effective immediately.

This decision has been made on the basis of multiple violations of Bureau policies, including but not limited to:

Insubordination: You have repeatedly failed to comply with direct orders from superior officers, demonstrating a blatant disregard for protocol and chain of command. This behavior has not only hindered operations but has also created unnecessary risks for your colleagues and the organization as a whole.

Assaulting a Coworker: It has been brought to our attention that you engaged in inappropriate and aggressive behavior toward a fellow Bureau employee. A formal investigation into this incident has confirmed that your actions constituted a violation of workplace safety policies, as well as ethical and legal standards upheld by this organization. Such behavior is entirely unacceptable and will not be tolerated within Public Safety.

Given the severity of these infractions, your immediate dismissal has been deemed necessary to uphold the integrity, discipline, and safety of the Bureau and its personnel.

You are required to return all Bureau-issued equipment and credentials to the administrative office by the end of the day. Any outstanding documentation or administrative matters related to your employment will be handled accordingly.

Should you have any questions regarding this decision or require clarification on final procedures, you may contact the Human Resources department.

Sincerely,

Aki HayakawaLieutenant Captain

Public Safety Bureau – Tokyo Headquarters

At the end of the day, you returned to Aki’s office, the weight of the termination letter settled in your hands. The fluorescent lights buzzed softly above, casting a faint glow over the dimly lit office. His desk was as cluttered as ever—papers stacked in uneven piles, a half-empty coffee cup pushed to the side, the faint trace of his cologne lingering in the air.

You ran your fingers along the edge of the document as you approached, eyeing the blank space you’d left for his signature. The words printed on the page felt heavier now, more significant. You weren’t just turning in paperwork. You were handing him something final, something that would erase Kenji from Public Safety for good.

Aki barely looked up as you set the letter on his desk.

“It’s done,” you said, keeping your voice light.

He gave a slow nod, flipping the pages between his fingers, scanning the contents with careful precision. You lingered, watching his expression shift slightly—his brow furrowing, his lips pressing into a thin line. He was always so controlled, so unreadable, but you’d spent enough time around him to know when something was picking at him.

You turned on your heel, ready to leave. But then—

The sound of voice calling your name stopped you in your tracks.

You turned back toward him, feigning innocence. “Yes, sir?”

Aki set the letter down, exhaling through his nose. His fingers tapped once against the desk before he leaned back in his chair, leveling you with a look that was both sharp and exasperated.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You know what.” He sighed, dragging a hand through his dark hair. “I’m at least ninety percent sure you’re violating some sort of dress code.”

A slow, amused smile curled at the corner of your lips. “I’m not. My outfit and makeup are in compliance with company policy,” you answered smoothly. “Does it bother you?”

He didn’t answer right away, but the muscle in his jaw tensed.

“That skirt is a bit short, don’t you think?” he muttered.

Gotcha.

You tilted your head, regarding him carefully. His voice was calm, controlled, but there was something else beneath it—something tight, something restrained.

“Are you… staring?” you asked, deliberately teasing, eyes glinting with something dangerous.

His brows pinched together in irritation. “I’m more concerned about other people.”

Is he… jealous?

He took the bait.

A flicker of satisfaction danced through you as he continued, his voice lower now, more serious. “You of all people should know there are some dogs in Public Safety. Men who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of you.”

Oh, he definitely is.

You hummed thoughtfully, stepping just a little closer, your heels clicking softly against the floor. “Like you, sir?”

Aki scoffed, rubbing his temple as if you were giving him a headache. “For the love of—” He cut himself off, sighing sharply. “I’m not taking advantage of you. I’m–”

“Protecting me, right. I got that,” you said airily. Then, tilting your head, you added, “I think we both know that’s a bullshit excuse.”

His eyes darkened—not with anger, but with something deeper, something unreadable. He stared at you, unmoving, his fingers still curled slightly on the desk, the weight of his silence settling between you.

You were out of line.

“Don’t start,” he muttered.

“Start what?”

Aki exhaled, his patience thinning. “We’re not having this conversation again.”

You watched as he reached for the letter, his eyes flickering over the words you had carefully typed. His expression remained unreadable as he skimmed it, though you didn’t miss the way his fingers flexed slightly when he reached Kenji’s name. A beat of silence stretched between you.

“Thank you for the letter,” he said at last, his tone clipped, controlled. “You’re dismissed.”

You didn’t argue. You simply gave him a slow, knowing smile, turned on your heel, and–

The sound of his voice made you turn back.

“Oh, and one more thing,” He spoke – tone firm and commanding, just the way you liked it. When you faced him, he paused, eyes dropping once more to your legs for the briefest of seconds before flitting up to meet your gaze head on. “Don’t wear that skirt to work again.”

You paused, partially shocked that he had been so bold. Then, nodding curtly, you bowed your head, “Of course, sir. It won’t happen again.”

You walked out. And though he tried to pretend otherwise, you felt the weight of his gaze following you all the way to the door.

Still, a little snag of pride curled in your chest because Himeno had been right.

He was jealous.

Later that night, at the izakaya, you were drunk off your ass. This seemed to be a reoccurring theme – something unique to any outing where Himeno was in attendance. She was a bad influence on you, that much was undeniable. Something else was undeniable, too. Namely, the fact that – while she conversed avidly with her partner, Aki, practically leaning on him as she did so – you could do nothing but furrow your brows, pout your lips at her like an insolent child because you couldn’t help but wish that he was giving you his attention instead.

It was a childish whim, you knew. He was an attractive man. He was bound to grab the attention of his female coworkers. Still, you couldn’t help the feeling that bubbled up in your chest, eyes narrowing into slits while you watched them talk. It was something deep, something wrong.

Maybe this is his way of getting back at me, You thought, but you knew that wasn’t the truth. Aki Hayakawa was not a petty person. He would never resort to the same underhanded tactics you had used on him.

Ever the bigger person.

You exhaled, tipping back the last of your drink, the alcohol burning pleasantly down your throat. It did little to wash away the bitter taste on your tongue, the one that had been lingering ever since you sat down at this table and realized you’d made a terrible mistake.

Himeno was draped over Aki, laughing, touching, leaning into him like it was the most natural thing in the world. And the worst part was that he let her. Not in a way that suggested he wanted it—not quite—but in a way that suggested he was used to it. That this was normal for them.

And maybe it was. Maybe this was just what they did. Maybe you were reading too much into it, letting the alcohol meddle with your thoughts, making everything feel sharper and hazier all at once.

But it didn’t matter.

Because the ugly little thing twisting in your chest wasn’t rational. It wasn’t kind or understanding or patient. It was selfish and petty and burning with something you didn’t want to name.

Jealousy.

The very same jealousy you had mocked him for earlier that day.

Aki hadn’t liked the idea of other men looking at you, but at least he’d said something about it. You’d seen the way his eyes darkened, the way his lips pressed into a thin line, the way he practically scolded you for your outfit—an excuse, you were sure, to hide whatever it was he’d really wanted to say.

But now?

Now, you were the one watching him, waiting, hoping for even a flicker of irritation, a sign that he was just as affected by you as you were by him.

And yet, he hadn’t even looked at you once.

It was infuriating.

Maybe you just weren’t being obvious enough.

You turned, shifting your attention to the man beside you—a coworker whose name you couldn’t even remember. He had been sitting quietly, nursing his drink, but that changed the second you leaned into him.

“Hey,” you said, voice sweet, almost lazy.

He blinked, taken aback, before offering a slow grin. “Hey yourself.”

You let out a small, breathy laugh, tilting your head, letting your fingers graze over his sleeve. “I don’t think I caught your name.”

He smirked, pleased by your sudden attention, and opened his mouth to respond—

But you weren’t really listening.

Your focus had already flickered away, drifting toward the only person in the room whose reaction actually mattered.

And—finally—Aki was looking.

Sort of.

His gaze had shifted toward you, lingering on the scene unfolding at the edge of his vision. But that was all it was—an acknowledgment. A passing glance. His brows furrowed slightly, but only for a second, like he was barely bothered by what he was seeing. Then, just as quickly, he turned away, lifting his glass to his lips with maddening indifference.

That was it.

That was all you got.

And it wasn’t enough.

You wanted more.

You wanted him to react—to frown, to scowl, to say something, anything. You wanted him to shift uncomfortably in his seat, to tighten his grip on his drink, to mutter something under his breath about how you were being ridiculous. You wanted him to feel the same frustration you had been choking on all night.

But he didn’t.

Aki remained calm, collected, utterly unreadable, and the realization made something bitter settle in your throat.

The alcohol was making you reckless, but not reckless enough to ignore how utterly disappointing this was.

You let out a slow, measured exhale, fingers tightening around the glass in your hand. The man beside you was still talking, still smiling, completely unaware that your attention had long since drifted elsewhere.

And you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Maybe this was stupid.

Maybe you were being stupid.

You were drunk. You knew that. You knew that the swirling mess of emotions in your head—frustration, jealousy, need—was amplified by the alcohol. You knew that tomorrow, when the hangover settled in and the memories came flooding back, you’d probably feel embarrassed about all of this.

And yet—

You still weren’t ready to let it go.

So you pushed further.

You leaned in just a little closer, your arm grazing against the man beside you. His cologne was faint but clung to the air—a mix of cheap and familiar. He didn’t seem to mind that you didn’t pull away, his grin widening as you lingered.

“So,” he said, swirling the last of his drink in his glass, “You from around here?”

You hummed, tilting your head as though you were thinking over the answer, though the truth was that it didn’t matter what you said. You already knew exactly what you would tell him. It wasn’t about him. You’d known that from the start.

“We work in the same department,” you replied, teasing lilt in your voice. “Of course I am. You?”

He chuckled, shifting slightly, leaning in a little. “Same. Though I guess that’s obvious, huh? You ever wonder how many of us there are? Feels like I’m always running into new faces.”

The conversation was easy. Too easy. And yet, you weren’t truly engaged with it.

You weren’t really listening to him.

Instead, your attention was fixed on something—or, more accurately, someone—across the table.

Aki sat there, an ocean of composure in the sea of chaos. Himeno spoke animatedly, her voice carrying a lightness you weren’t sure was entirely genuine. Her hand rested casually on his arm, her body language telling the world just how close they were. Aki nodded here and there, responding in short, deliberate sentences. But his eyes, his gaze, stayed mostly on his drink. He was always so careful. Always so deliberate.

Too deliberate.

You could feel the flicker of something in your chest—something hot, something sharp, something you couldn’t quite name. Your eyes narrowed, just a touch, though you kept the smile on your face, turning your attention back to the man beside you.

His voice was too loud, too eager, trying to fill the empty space. “So, you been with Public Safety long?”

“Couple of weeks now,” he said, shifting closer as though to make sure his proximity was noticed. “You?”

You nodded, but didn’t answer right away. Your fingers slid absently over the rim of your empty glass. “Long enough.”

His smile widened, like he thought he was winning some unspoken game. “Long enough for what?”

“To realize the job’s a nightmare.” You grinned at him, playful but cynical.

He laughed, a short chuckle that was surprisingly genuine. “That’s the truth.”

You hummed, allowing him to believe it was an engaging conversation. In truth, it wasn’t. It was nothing more than a distraction. Because your attention was elsewhere, on Aki, on the way his posture never shifted, even as Himeno leaned in closer, whispering something in his ear.

Another glance. Aki’s eyes flicked briefly over to you. Just a moment. Just enough to notice.

You felt a subtle flicker in your chest, something light, almost like anticipation. But you forced yourself to smile and turn back to your companion.

“So tell me,” you said, keeping the air of intrigue in your voice, “what made you join Public Safety?”

He sighed, leaning in slightly, his posture casual, like he was finally getting comfortable. “That’s a long story. You sure you wanna hear it?”

You tilted your head, feigning genuine interest. “Absolutely.”

His voice dropped lower, the words coming more slowly now, like he thought this would be the part where he finally had you hooked. You smiled faintly, but your attention wasn’t on him. It wasn’t on anything he was saying.

Across the table, Aki glanced at you again.

This time, it wasn’t subtle. His eyes lingered longer than the brief flicker from before. He didn’t say anything, didn’t react outwardly. He just looked. And you, ever the observer, couldn’t help but notice.

That was all. Nothing else.

You couldn’t decide whether it was enough or not. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe you were just too drunk to care about the subtleties anymore. Maybe you wanted more than just a glance. Maybe you wanted something real. Something tangible.

But instead, you just returned to the conversation, nodding in all the right places. Your fingers traced the edge of your glass absentmindedly.

“—and that’s when I realized,” your coworker continued, “I might as well get paid to fight devils if I’m gonna be doing it anyway, right?”

You laughed, keeping your voice light, your eyes flicking to the side once again. Aki was still watching, still observing, but he didn’t say a word.

The silence in his gaze was louder than any words could have been.

You exhaled softly, almost wistfully, as if you were letting go of something, though you weren’t entirely sure what that was.

Another glance, but this time, there was something more to it. Aki’s expression hadn’t changed, but there was something in the way his gaze softened just a fraction, like he was finally, maybe, letting his guard down just the tiniest bit.

But was that even real?

You weren’t sure anymore.

Your fingers tapped against the table, absentmindedly now, your irritation bubbling just beneath the surface.

This wasn’t how you wanted things to go.

You wanted more. You wanted Aki to act like you were the one who mattered. But he didn’t. And the longer you played this game, the more it felt like you were just losing. Losing in ways you couldn’t quite explain.

You didn’t know when it happened—when the conversation with your coworker became a blur of empty words—but you found yourself restless, uncomfortable in a way you couldn’t shake. The alcohol wasn’t helping anymore. It wasn’t softening the edges of your frustration.

You looked over at Aki one last time.

He wasn’t looking at you anymore.

Instead, he was focused on his drink, his face unreadable.

That was it. You were done.

You exhaled, slow and heavy, then stood up abruptly. The movement was sharp, too quick, as if you were trying to shake off the weight that had settled on your chest.

“Excuse me,” you muttered, keeping your tone neutral, though it was nothing but forced.

Your coworker blinked up at you, surprise flashing across his features. “Everything okay?”

You didn’t grace him with a response, instead, you stumbled onto your two feet, ignoring the way the room spun around you. You had decided that you were going to give him a piece of your mind. Yeah, you were going to walk up to him, get all up in his stupid face and tell him exactly how much of an asshole he was. You didn’t care if it was messy. You just… hated looking at his stupid, pretty mug.

Walking over to his side of the table took a great deal of effort. You plopped yourself right down into the empty space right next to him, at the edge of the table. Slowly, he turned to look at you, as if he was about to ask you again, in that rough voice of his, “What the hell are you doing?”

But the words never came. The words never came out, and neither did yours.

Instead, drunken brain figuring actions spoke louder than words, you grabbed him by the collar with a sudden surge of confidence. Then, not giving a rat’s ass who was watching, you had your second drunk incident.

You kissed him. In front of all of your coworkers.

It was messy, frantic, like the last piece of something that had been building up inside of you for far too long. You didn’t know how it happened or why, but there you were, lips pressing desperately against his. Your body swayed with the motion, the alcohol dulling your senses, but there was an overwhelming, irrational clarity in that kiss. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the slight stiffening of his muscles, the way his body went rigid under your touch.

For a moment, everything else ceased to exist.

Then, just as suddenly, Aki pulled away, breaking the kiss with a sharpness that felt too harsh. His eyes were wide, still locked onto you, his lips parted in shock, like he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

Your heart skipped a beat, and something cold slithered through you.

What had you done?

His silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. The room felt quieter than it had been just moments ago, every noise around you now distorted, as if everything had slowed down just to give you this moment of pure, unrelenting humiliation.

Aki didn’t say anything. He didn’t even flinch, but there was something in his gaze that you couldn’t quite place—something almost… horrified?

No, that wasn’t it.

The silence dragged on until Denji’s voice cut through it, sharp and mocking. “You’re getting just as bad as Himeno,” he said, his grin wide and unrepentant.

Everyone else in the room laughed, the sound of their amusement stabbing through you, making your stomach churn. It should’ve been funny. It should’ve been easy to brush off, but the only thing that mattered was the look in Aki’s eyes.

He wasn’t laughing.

You glanced at him, eyes searching for any hint of reaction, but his expression was unreadable. His gaze was fixed on you, his lips pressed together in a tight line. The others may have been caught up in the moment, but Aki wasn’t. He was staring at you, like he was waiting for you to say something—anything.

Your pulse quickened, and the weight of the room’s laughter pressed down on you. Your head spun. What was happening to you?

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the embarrassment crawling under your skin like a thousand tiny needles. You had hoped for a reaction—hell, you were practically begging for one—but not like this.

You stumbled to your feet again, unsteady but determined to get away from the sharp gaze that had pinned you in place. You couldn’t take it. You couldn’t stand the weight of his stare anymore. You needed to run away.

“I… I’ll be right back,” you muttered, the words slurring just slightly as you turned away, trying to make your escape. “Excuse me.”

You didn’t wait for anyone to respond. You didn’t care if they did. You just had to get out of there.

As you walked away, your vision blurred again, but you didn’t stop. You stumbled towards the bathroom, the sound of your heart pounding in your ears louder than any of the laughter behind you. You didn’t dare look back.

The alcohol had made you bold. It had made you reckless.

But it had also made you stupid.

And as you pushed open the bathroom door and stepped inside, you couldn’t help but wonder what the hell you’d just done.

What the fuck?

You stopped just inside, pressing your palms to the cool tile of the wall. The rush of alcohol was still clouding your thoughts, but now there was a terrible clarity. You'd just kissed Aki. In front of everyone. In front of all your coworkers. And now... now you were alone with the knowledge of how utterly stupid you had been.

What the fuck? You repeated the thought over and over in your head as you began to pace back and forth in the small, confined space. It was like your body was moving faster than your brain, instinctively trying to outrun the tidal wave of embarrassment and regret crashing through you. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream or cry or—hell, throw something. But no, instead, you just walked in circles, repeating the same mistake over and over in your head, each thought making the room spin more and more.

What the hell had possessed you? You weren’t like this. You didn’t act out. You didn’t make reckless decisions without thinking, not like this, not in a way that could ruin everything. But somehow, in the heat of that moment, everything felt like it had blurred. You were drunk, yes, but there was something else—a need, a want, an impulse that you couldn’t control.

You stopped pacing for a second, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your lipstick had smeared, probably from when he pulled away. You didn’t even care to fix it. The dark circles under your eyes seemed more pronounced now, the weight of your own humiliation pressing down on you. You looked... stupid. Weak. You had no idea what was running through his head.

Just as you were about to slap yourself for being so fucking reckless, you heard a faint knock at the door. The sound echoed in the silence of the room, jarring, like a warning. You froze, the tension building in your chest, your heart hammering as you realized someone else might be there.

“Occupied!” You didn’t mean to snap, but you couldn’t help it. Your voice came out shaky, uneven, as though you were bracing yourself for some kind of confrontation. The last thing you wanted was to be disturbed.

But then, to your horror, the door swung open anyway.

You looked up in disbelief, ready to shout at whoever dared to enter, but the words died in your throat when you saw who it was.

Aki.

His presence seemed to swallow the space, every inch of the air between you two thick with something unspoken. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, and the sound reverberated, amplifying the sudden quiet. His eyes were locked onto yours, unreadable. You stared at him for a long moment, the reality of your actions setting in like ice water over your body. What the hell was he doing here? Why wasn’t he angry?

You expected him to yell, to storm in and tell you how stupid you were, how you’d embarrassed him in front of everyone. You expected him to scold you, to say something, anything. But he didn’t.

Instead, he just stood there, his gaze unwavering. His mouth parted slightly, as if he was about to say something. You could see the tension in his posture, the way his jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck flexing with a barely contained intensity. But he said nothing. He just stared.

And you, frozen in place, could do nothing but stare back.

It felt like the world had shifted. All the noise outside the bathroom seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you standing in this charged silence. For a second, you thought you might be able to breathe again, to say something. Apologize, maybe. Tell him you didn’t mean it, that the alcohol had made you do something foolish. But before you could even open your mouth, he stepped forward, closing the distance between you.

His presence enveloped you, too close now, and just as your breath caught in your throat, he kissed you again.

His lips were firm, and for a moment, you didn’t know whether to melt into it or push him away. But then it didn’t matter. You were weak all over again. Everything you had been trying to suppress, all those feelings that had been brewing between you two, came rushing to the surface in that one moment. The kiss was raw, intense, but it wasn’t angry—it was something else. Something neither of you had the words for.

And before you could fully register what was happening, he pulled away.

His eyes were half-lidded, his breath coming in sharp pants as he looked down at you. There was a flicker of something in his gaze, something you couldn’t quite place, but it wasn’t anger. It wasn’t the reproach you’d expected. It was more like confusion, or maybe frustration. His brows furrowed, and he let out a small sigh, as if trying to gather his thoughts.

“God, you’re messing with my fucking head,” he muttered, his voice low, thick with tension. It wasn’t a reprimand, but it felt like a confession. And in the silence that followed, you could hear the weight of everything that wasn’t being said.

You stood there, your heart still racing, the taste of him lingering on your lips, feeling like an idiot. It wasn’t just your body that had betrayed you—it was your mind, too. You had no idea what had made you do it, but now there he was, standing right in front of you, and all you could do was look at him.

You wanted to say something—apologize, maybe. Tell him that you didn’t mean for things to get out of hand, but the words were stuck in your throat. You wanted to say something that would make it all better, but everything you could think of felt hollow in comparison to what had just happened.

And as you stood there, breathless and still, you realized that you couldn’t take back what had just occurred. Not now, not ever.

You both stood there in that space, caught between the tension and the confusion. You had no idea where to go from here.

“I’m messing… with your head?” You slurred, suddenly rather dizzy from the lack of space between you and him. “You’re messing with my fucking head.”

He shook his head, like you couldn’t possibly grasp the depth of what he was telling you, “I’m trying to stay away from you. I’m trying to push you away, but you just… you make it so fucking hard, do you know that?”

You nearly burst into laughter at that. Here he goes again with that heroic bullshit. “Hard to do the right thing?” You teased, voice dropping an octave to mimic him. “Aki, you need to let loose a little. Seriously.”

He sighed, shoulders dropping, leaning into the place where your hand cradled his face like he couldn’t resist. Like he hadn’t been touched so tenderly in his entire life. “I can’t.”

Of course not. You thought. Who else is going to make the decisions for everybody else?

Maybe you weren’t giving him enough credit. Being a captain seemed stressful. You couldn’t imagine having to bear the cross of constant righteousness, let alone the way he did – flawlessly, without a crack in his exterior…

Until now.

“Maybe not, but I think you can allow yourself this one thing. Who cares about the power dynamic when we’re in uniform?” You replied easily, with a smile.

“Allow myself to indulge in you, you mean,” He retorted, but his tone lacked any bite. Half of a smile rested upon his lips, eyes peering down at you through long, pretty lashes.

Truthfully speaking, he was breathtaking – tired blue eyes gazing into yours, desire replacing what had once been a burning hatred, lips just barely parted around a trembling breath. He looked uncertain and, frankly, drunk.

That was never good news for the two of you.

“Sure,” You shrugged anyway, even though you knew you didn’t even believe the words coming out of your mouth, “What’s the harm in a little fun?”

There was plenty of harm in it, especially when he wasn’t just some faceless hookup. He was the sole occupant of your thoughts, your spirit, your dreams. He was like an obsession, something that (clearly) made you behave rather stupidly. He was dangerous. That much, you knew.

But, standing nearly a foot shorter than him, you couldn’t think about that now. All you could think about was how goddamn pretty he looked beneath the dim, flickering light of the seedy bathroom, fluorescent rays casting shadows over his face, making him look older, somehow.

You could drown in him, you thought.

“It won’t just be a little fun,” He remarked. “I’m not a half-ass kind of guy. If you want me, you’re gonna get all of me. I don’t do casual sex, that’s the problem.”

I like the sound of that, the dirtier, more depraved part of you thought, but you quickly pushed it down.

Your hand dropped down to brace itself on his chest, on the hard planes of his pectorals. His much larger one slid up to your jaw, cupping your face oh-so-gently. Then, slowly, his thumb caught on your lower lip, tugging it down ever so slightly, as if testing the waters.

“I want all of you,” You replied. “The good, the bad, whatever the fuck else you got going on. Not like there’s anything casual about this, anyway.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” He huffed out a tipsy little laugh, pressing his forehead up against yours. He was close, now – so close that you were dizzy from the scent of him, the beer on his breath, the mint, the nicotine, the cologne.

He’s still putting that damn wall up.

“Why are you always so worried about protecting everyone else? You’re allowed to enjoy things, even if they might not… hic… be the best idea,” You replied, desperate to get him to open up and let you in for once. You were so close, you could almost taste it.

“So you admit that this is a bad idea?” He answered back, the faintest hint of a smile lingering on his pink lips.

“Very much so. We’re coworkers. You’re my supervisor, and we couldn’t exactly be anything more than more-than-friends,” You breathed out as he leaned in a little closer. Up this close, his nose just barely brushed against the tip of yours. “But I’m a big girl. I’ve done my research. I know exactly what I’m saying,” A pause, during which you exhaled, and then you added, “I meant what I said… I want you to let me have all of you. Everything that you can give me.”

It was true. Every single last word of it – you were desperate for any part of him you could get. If that excluded his heart, then, well, you would do your best to keep your own out of it.

These sorts of things only ever led to disaster, you knew that.

But you figured you would spend the rest of your life wishing you hadn’t than wishing you had.

“What if…” He exhaled slowly, like it pained him to do so. “What if things get complicated? You know we can’t really be together, right? And we would have to keep whatever the hell this is a secret?”

“We can cross that bridge when we get there,” You retorted. “I like to think I’m pretty good at keeping secrets. I promise it won’t get in the way of work, or anything else. Just…” You tightened your grasp around the fabric of his shirt, bunching it up into white layers in your fist, “Let me have you. Who cares about doing the right thing? Not like we’re going to Heaven, anyway, right?”

“You hated me a few weeks ago, and now you’re begging for me. You do realize how ridiculous that sounds, right?” He tilted his head. There was a humorous lilt to his words, one that told you that he wasn’t entirely as repulsed by the idea of pursuing a sexual relationship with you as you had originally thought. “What if one of us develops feelings? And what if we were found out? What would everyone else think? It would be your honor on the line.”

He looked so kissable right now, eyes trained on yours in that very unique way of his – the one that made you breathless. Gently, you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, leaning into him (and not just because you were drunk).

“Fuck what everyone else thinks,” You teased, bringing your faces that much closer together. “I want you, Aki.” Then, trailing a finger down his chest, catching on a button before continuing down, you added, “Let me have you. Who cares about how long it’ll last if we enjoy it, right?”

Aki exhaled sharply, his breath warm against your lips, so close it made your stomach twist into knots. His fingers, rough and calloused, tightened around your jaw—firm, grounding, as if he were trying to memorize the shape of you before he inevitably did something he couldn’t take back. His eyes flickered down to your lips, hesitation warring with need, and for a moment, you thought he was going to pull away.

Then, like a breaking dam, he gave in.

His lips crashed against yours, desperate, consuming, like he had been starving for this and couldn’t stand another second without tasting you. The sheer force of it sent your back colliding with the wall behind you, a breathless gasp slipping from your mouth at the sudden contact. You barely registered the discomfort—all you could focus on was him. Aki, pressing against you, his body flush against yours, his scent overwhelming your senses.

Mint. Smoke. The faintest trace of cologne.

You could have drowned in it. In him.

His mouth was hot, demanding, moving against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak. You didn’t even realize you had grabbed at him until your fingers were tangled in the crisp white fabric of his shirt, fisting it, holding on like you might fall apart without him. And maybe you would. Maybe you already were.

A soft sound escaped you—something caught between a sigh and a whimper—and it made him kiss you harder. His grip tightened at your waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of your uniform, branding you, like he wanted to leave a mark. A reminder. The thought sent a thrill down your spine.

Aki kissed like he fought—intense, calculated, like he was putting every last piece of himself into it. And fuck, it was intoxicating. The way his lips moved with such precision, the way his hands gripped you like he needed you. Like you were something vital.

For a moment, you let yourself believe it.

Then, just as suddenly as he started, he pulled away.

You didn’t even realize you were chasing after him until your lips brushed against empty air, a quiet little noise of protest slipping from your throat. You blinked up at him, dazed, drunk off him. His forehead rested against yours, his breaths uneven, ragged, his hands still clinging to your waist like he didn’t trust himself to let go completely.

He looked at you, blue eyes blown wide, pupils dark with something dangerous, something that made your chest feel tight.

“Okay,” he exhaled, voice rough, strained. His grip on you flexed, like he was solidifying this decision for himself. “I’m in.”

For a split second, you didn’t register it.

Then, you laughed—a breathless, triumphant thing, relief and something far more wicked curling through your veins. Without thinking, you surged forward, capturing his lips again, this time with even more force.

It was messy, a little reckless, but you didn’t care. You wanted to feel him, wanted to take as much as he was willing to give. And for once, Aki didn’t hesitate. His hands found your hips again, pulling you impossibly close, pressing you against the wall like he never wanted to let you go. You hummed into his mouth, satisfaction curling through you like a slow burn, threading through your veins like fire.

He was yours.

At least, for now.

That thought lingered, cold and sharp, somewhere in the back of your mind.

No feelings. No attachments.

You should have been relieved. You should have felt free.

Instead, the words settled in your chest like a warning, like an inevitability you were too far gone to stop.

Back at the table, you forced yourself to smile, laughing at something Himeno said, acting like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t just had Aki pressed against you in the bathroom, his lips hot and desperate against yours, his hands gripping you like he never wanted to let go. Like you hadn’t been the one to pull him back in when he hesitated. Like your heartbeat wasn’t still pounding in your throat, your body still thrumming with the imprint of him.

You took a sip of your drink, letting the alcohol burn away the taste of him.

Himeno leaned in, her eyes glinting with something sly, something that made your stomach tighten. “So,” she drawled, her chin propped in her hand, “that was some kiss back at the table earlier.” A slow smirk curled at her lips. “And you two took an awfully long time to come back.”

Your fingers tightened around your glass. You kept your expression even, casual. Normal.

“We were talking about it,” you said smoothly, swirling the drink in your hand. “It was a mistake. He was telling me all about… uh, like—policies and shit, and how it can never happen again. You know, the whole nine yards.”

It wasn’t a lie, exactly. He had said all that. Right before you kissed him again.

Himeno tilted her head, eyeing you with lazy amusement. “I thought you hated him.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “I’m drunk, Himeno. I kissed you. Doesn’t mean I’m gay.”

“Right,” she hummed, but there was something unreadable in her gaze. Like she wasn’t entirely convinced.

You exhaled through your nose, forcing a laugh, leaning in just enough to nudge her arm. “You’re in no position to talk, Miss I’ve-Kissed-Everyone-in-Public-Safety.”

That finally made her snort, but the sharp edge in her expression didn’t fade. She twirled the straw in her drink, eyes flicking to you, then past you, like she was putting something together.

“Never Aki,” she murmured, almost like an afterthought. But her voice had gone quieter, more thoughtful. Her fingers traced absent patterns against the rim of her glass. “He’s a total hardass. I’m surprised he let you.”

Something in your stomach lurched. You swallowed it down.

Her gaze flicked up, meeting yours again, sharper this time. “He’s not the mystery guy, is he?”

You laughed—too quick, too dismissive. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Himeno exhaled, dragging her thumb across the condensation on her glass. She didn’t look entirely convinced, but she didn’t press it. Just hummed and shook her head, taking another slow sip. “No, you’re right,” she mused. “You guys are total opposites. That would never work.”

She was drinking more now, fingers gripping her glass a little too tightly.

You should’ve felt relieved. Should’ve let the conversation die right there. But your heart was still pounding, your skin still warm where Aki had touched you, and the lie sat heavy in your chest, weighing you down.

Then, your phone buzzed against the table.

You glanced down.

A text from him. You flipped the small device open, scanning the message – the first message you had ever received from him.

CAPTAIN HAYAKAWA: I think you’ve had enough to drink.

Typing…

YOU: Says who?

CAPTAIN HAYAKAWA: The guy watching you sway back and forth like you’re about to pass out.

You blinked, glancing up across the table. Aki wasn’t looking at you—at least, not directly. His posture was the same as always, stiff, unreadable, his attention seemingly on his own drink. But you knew better. Knew he’d been watching, keeping track, the way he always did.

Your lips curled slightly, fingers moving before you could think better of it.

YOU: Guilty. Would you carry me back to my apartment again if I did?

This time, he hesitated. You could picture him, jaw tightening, eyes narrowing ever so slightly at the screen, debating whether or not to indulge you with a response.

You watched him carefully, waiting, your heart hammering just a little too hard against your ribs.

Then, his phone lit up in his hand. His fingers moved.

CAPTAIN HAYAKAWA: Put the beer down.

Something in you wavered.

You stared at the words, at the quiet command laced in them, at the way your body reacted before your mind could catch up. Your fingers tightened around your glass, your grip faltering, indecisive.

Then, slowly, you set the beer down.

You hesitated, only for a second—but the strangest part was that you wanted to obey. Some deep, inexplicable part of you wanted to listen to him, to let him take control, to let him look after you the way he always did.

Even if he never should have. Even if this—whatever this was—couldn’t happen again.

Across the table, Aki’s gaze flickered up, just for a second. Then, your phone buzzed with another message.

CAPTAIN HAYAKAWA: Good girl.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Heat spread through you, slow and dizzying, pooling low in your stomach. You blinked down at the words, pulse hammering behind your ribs. The praise, so simple, so quiet— it got to you. The worst part was that he had to know it would. Had to know what he was doing when he sent it.

Your fingers curled around the device, clutching it tightly in your lap as something restless, something dangerous coiled in your chest. You felt hot—too hot. Like you needed to down the rest of your drink just to cool the sudden heat rising up your spine.

A slow, unbidden smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

Himeno leaned over, peering at you with mild curiosity. “What are you smiling at?”

You blinked, barely even realizing you had been. Quickly, you forced the expression away, snapping the phone shut with a practiced ease.

“Nothing,” you said smoothly, forcing a small laugh, tilting your head like you weren’t completely unraveling on the inside. “I just saw something funny.”

Himeno hummed, unconvinced, but didn’t press.

You exhaled, reaching for your drink on instinct—then, at the last second, you hesitated. Your fingers ghosted over the glass but didn’t lift it. Aki’s words still lingered in your mind, simmering.

You glanced up.

And met his gaze.

It was fleeting, just a second—but in that second, everything tightened. The air between you stretched thin, charged with something neither of you could acknowledge, something too dangerous to name. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—sharp, unwavering—held yours like a quiet reminder. Like a challenge.

Your pulse skipped.

Then, before you could stop yourself, you smiled. Small. Subtle. Something just for him.

Aki didn’t react, not at first. But you caught it—the way his fingers curled just slightly against the table, the way his throat bobbed as he exhaled slow and steady through his nose.

You tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, feigning nonchalance, letting the movement ground you.

Then, with a flick of your gaze, you turned back to Himeno—acting as if nothing had happened at all.

a/n: a win is a win. IDC WHAT YALL SAY A WIN IS A WIN!!!! lmk ur thoughtssss ur wantsss, yk the drill. i'm a whore for validation so i'll probably do it!!!!!

credits: einruji__ on twitter . I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

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