#ROAD NOT TAKEN THOUGH. i can get behind it

[nightunite]

slides u twenty dollars can we consider jealous johnny if he sees reader is only that avoidant with him and no one else… i don’t want to rush ahead in case you have something else planned but like, johnny hearing that there are rumors one of the baron’s newest maids is pregnant and the timing just lines up a little too well 😵‍💫😵‍💫

-noona bc tumblr refuses to let me send asks from sideblogs

Hiiiiiiiii Noona 💖

Thank you for the twenty, I'm gonna spend in on blind boxes, it's not an addiction, I can stop anytime I want. Spoilers concerning reader's pregnancy under the read more:

Gonna answer only the first part of this and save the second half because I don't wanna give away too much just yet. I will say that at the point this piece of the story takes place, our dear reader is indeed aware she's pregnant and has informed Konig, who insists on her having someone with her when she goes out into town. Anything could happen, and he fears the idea of her falling and harming herself or the baby, or having to do so much heavy lifting. They're just on friendly-ish terms though for now, as this isn't by the time reader has started showing, so no rumors have started flying yet. Also, curious how one section of this will be interpreted. Johnny exhaled as he stepped out of the shop, breath a thick fog in front of him as the winter chill set to work stinging his cheeks. Snow had fallen last night and stayed, keeping the roads slick. The thick woolen cap he wore snug around his head crushed down his signature hairstyle, but he'd rather have flat hair than a raw scalp. He rubbed his gloved hands along his wrists to fend off the shivers, the door behind him shutting with a clatter and the ring of bells as he moved along the walkway towards his next stop a few streets over. Four stores in, and he had yet to find what he was looking for. He wasn't entirely sure what that was, mind you, only that whatever it was remained elusive. It let him move about town all the same to get out of his house which had felt odd these past few weeks. Too loud, too quiet, achingly lonely yet also too many people nearby setting his nerves on edge. Impossible to get anything done, his irritation grew erratic like his thoughts. All he wanted was a moment of peace, a chance for his ever-restless thoughts to let him breathe lest he take it out on his staff.

Try as he might to deny it to himself, he knew why this happened. She wasn't there anymore. Packed up and left in the wee hours of the morn, when the fog was thick and the duchy silent as a graveyard. Didn't bother to inform him, merely the head maid whom had given him a look that said he was a fool. Shortly thereafter, word had gotten back to him that she had taken up a position in the Baron's home. He'd had to take a swift walk to handle that knotted up wad of string wrapped tightly in his gut.

If he were an honest man, he would say she hadn't truly been there even longer. It made his throat close up, the way she seemingly wasted away in his halls, sunken in on herself like a sunflower wilting in the frost. Like a cold snap at the start of winter, suddenly she had no time for him. Always quick to pull away from him, to find some task to do that kept her preoccupied from the start of the day until well past it. Hesitation whenever he asked her what was wrong, a momentary pause before she would tell him nothing was the matter, addressing him as 'my lord', as though the name she had permission to use would not escape her mouth.

Eyes always downcast, fixed on the floorboards or over his shoulder when she would bring herself to pretend to look him in the eye. Truth be told, he preferred it in some ways, the relief of not having that direct connection. At least then he didn't feel the weight of his inadequacy of caring for her, like a verdict cast down upon him. This way he could pretend that he was the man he was supposed to be. He stopped attempting to touch her in any way when he caught how she tensed, braced herself for contact. The kissing followed shortly thereafter, her strained smiles and broken laughter making him feel worse, like he never should have even tried. Anything further wasn't even on the table, and the thought of even broaching the subject made his insides churn. And so, he stopped. Filled his time with the other maids, though that never lasted long either. They weren't right; laughter too loud or high pitched, smile too far to one side, hair the wrong thickness between his fingers. It left him feeling further unease, as though he kept going down the wrong hallways in a maze that he had no chance of escaping. Like a picture set at the wrong angle, or shoes that are a size too small. It pinches him, makes something inside him pace like a beast in a cage, keeps him up at night. He knows what felt right, what kept him sated and content in his days. Eyes that gazed at him like he was her salvation, her sun, always turning towards him with a smile that made his own lips turn up. Soft hands even after hard work, rubbing over the calluses of his palms and stroking over any scars, pressing gentle kisses to them. Laughs and squeals that made his heart race like a schoolboy, cheeks flooded red with the desire to keep her that way, keep all of her attention on him. Even now as he turns the corner, he feels a small smile coming up from those memories, only to freeze awkwardly on his face.

Across the street there she walked, a small box wrapped in her free palm. He hadn't anticipated her being out, assuming she had remained indoors lest the chill finally do her in. He felt his breath leave his lungs at the sight while his blood raced at a fever pitch, heart beginning to hammer. She looked beautiful, the way she had before whatever had occurred at the duchy. Cheeks fuller than he had seen since this past fall, eyes bright and a small smile on her face, she looked radiant to him. Some piece of him, deep in his soul perhaps, relaxed in relief at the sight of her hale and hearty. Another part of him, a part of who he is as a man, feels the stirrings of bitterness at the fact she seems to flourish again once out of his reach. But he couldn't help the way he wanted to grit his teeth and snarl at who stood at her side. Baron Konig, the man who had poached her from him. Still draped in his silly shroud, he was covered head to toe, a thick peacoat covering him and sturdy boots making contact with the ground, clicks following. Even with the coat in the way, Johnny's eyes narrowed at the way her hand was tucked into the crook of his arm. Why does that bastard have the right to touch her? He must have said something under that hood, for she looked up at the Baron and let out a chuckle, breath pluming out for a moment before she responded with something that he nodded in return to. In his free arm he held several packages, looking for all the world as though they weighed nothing. To a man of that size, they probably didn't.

Johnny felt the acidic tendrils of jealousy lance through him, searing him from the inside out while he fought the need to bare his teeth and tear into the man. He couldn't help it, truly he couldn't. That should have been him with her, guiding her down the street while she looks up at him and laughs at whatever he tells her. Actually no, he thought, she shouldn't be out here at all. She should have been back in the duchy with him, playfully seated on his desk, fire roaring and keeping them both toasty while he pretended to work. He would reach out and cup her face, stroking the apple of her cheek, while she would lean in and reward him with a kiss for his hard work that day. A game they had played before, the two of them wrapped up against the bitter outside world, a secret shared between their hearts.

Why does she not look at him that way? What did he do to harm her? What must he do to have her return to him? Just look at him again, please. Even just a passing glance, something to show that she still recalls who he is, who he can be to her.

Words of adoration and touches that feel like absolution dissipate from his eyes, Johnny swallowing a small noise behind his teeth when he sees how she leans into the Baron so she can stretch slightly higher and say something in his ear. Never before has Johnny wished to be lesser in society so as to step forward and take her hand and pull her home, show everyone who she is meant for. Unable to bear the sight any longer he hunches his head into the collar of his coat and swiftly turns around. His attempts at finding peace have only led him to further turmoil.

As he heads back to his carriage, his thoughts circle over and over, ruminating and digging furrows into his sanity.

He doesn't deserve this, none of this. Not with a woman like that, not with her. When he returns to the house, he has letters to write.

[lettucing]

look of love, rush of blood

chapter three

words: ~8.8k | pairing: jschlatt x she/her afab reader

summary: With Schlatt and Ted's party now in full swing, you're drawn into a lively crowd of new faces- and taught more about one you're already familiar with.

notes: STRAP IN SCHLANNIES, IT'S A LONG ONE!!

1) the song mentioned during the balcony scene is meant to be no. 1 party anthem by arctic monkeys aka the song this fic was inspired by (go give it a listen if you're not familiar)!! there isn't really a 100% confirmed meaning behind the song, so i based it on my own interpretation & ones i've seen online in the past . 2) i went ham with some ramblings of adoration for new york bc i'd literally KILL to have a convo with schlatt about growing up here... so i hope u enjoy the lil peak into my new yawk mind... overall i find it super sweet and i'm pretty proud of how this chapter came out, i hope you enjoy :) !!!! <3

“So, what’s next?” Ted asks, glancing between you, Schlatt, and Joelle. A cheer erupts from down the hall, likely from the latest beer pong game. Schlatt shrugs, nodding toward the noise.

“Wanna play the next round?”

⭑

As the four of you make your way down the hallway into Schlatt’s living room, the air thrums with energy. Laughter, cheers, and the clink of plastic cups meld into a lively, chaotic symphony. At the center of it all stands the familiar grey folding table, where the current game of cup pong is clearly nearing its conclusion—just a few cups remain on each side. Schlatt steps forward, casually placing his phone on the edge of the table. “We’ve got next.” he announces, his tone easy as he gestures back towards where you were standing. One of the players glances up, meeting Schlatt’s gaze with a nod of acknowledgment before turning back to the game. Tension was high as the game came to a close, the team to the far end of the table sinking both of their final ping pong balls into the other team’s cups. The room erupts—half cheers, half groans—as the losers down the rest of the cups on the table. Ted steps between you and Joelle, walking closer to the table and clapping the winners on the back in congratulations.

Joelle flashes you a grin as she walks toward the table. After a round of quick hellos, she turns to you, giving a playful wave to draw you over. You smile awkwardly, realizing how comfortable Joelle is in this chaotic crowd. You wish you could be as easygoing, but it’s a challenge when everyone seems so... effortlessly at home. She gestures to you like a proud mother to the two vaguely-familiar men. This Y/N!” She faces you and Ted adds, “This is Charlie and Tucker, our other buddies staying at Schlatt’s for the week.” You glance at them with a smile, realizing you recognized them from the bar last week, though you hadn’t really taken them in until now. Both were shorter than Ted and Schlatt, with piercing blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. Charlie’s hair was messy and fluffy, one ear pierced, his gorgeous smile bright and inviting. Tucker had a classic short crew cut, with a solid build and muscle mass that was noticeable in the way he stood. He took a sip of his drink and nodded a casual hello.

Jesus, they were an attractive group of friends.

“It’s nice to meet you!” Charlie says, his smile warm and genuine. “Joelle was talking about you when we met. I remember seeing you chatting with Schlatt at the bar when we were heading out.” You manage a laugh, trying to hide your nervousness. “Yeah, I was taking a breather,” you reply, motioning toward Joelle. “This one makes me dance way too hard.”Joelle scoffs, but you notice the affectionate glint in her eyes. “Yeah, okay. I forced you to get out there and shake ass.” Her retort flusters you, and before you can respond, Schlatt’s voice booms from the opposite end of the table. “Hey, can we get this show on the road, please?”

Charlie pulls a face at you, his expression comical, as if to say ‘we were talking, but I guess I better move’. You smile, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll come back to this later. It was great meeting you.” “Yeah totally, same here!” he replies with a grin, stepping away. Meanwhile, Ted and Tucker dap eachother up as Ted strides over to join Schlatt at their side of the table.

“Alright, ladies and germs!” Ted bellows, his deep voice cutting through the room. “We’ve got me and the big guy versus these two lovely ladies—Y/N and Joelle!” 

The room erupts in cheers, shouts of “Yeah, Schlatt!” and “Let's go!” echoing throughout the room. One voice rises above the commotion, cutting through the noise like a knife. “Schlatt, I hope you lose!” 

A collective ‘oooooooh’ ripples through the crowd like you were in grade school again, followed by laughter and scattered claps. You follow the voice to its source, a guy with shaggy black hair and a bright pink hoodie leaning casually against the wall near the couch on Schlatt and Ted’s side of the table. A smirk stretches across his face, one that practically screams that he knows exactly what he’s doing. Schlatt’s head snaps to his right, locking onto the man like a hawk. “Oh, fuck you, dude. You’re just mad that me n’ Astrid smoked you so bad last time you had to lock yourself in the bathroom for half an hour to ‘take a breather’.” The man straightens, now fully standing and visibly pissed off. “Uh, yeah, because you cheated, asshole!” Schlatt spins away from the table to fully face him, arms flung wide in exaggerated disbelief. His voice rises, drawing a new wave of laughter and hoots from the room. “How the fuck do you cheat at beer pong, dumbass?!”

Ted steps in with the practiced calm of someone who’s seen this exact scenario play out more times than he can count. He grips Schlatt’s shoulders with the firm strength of someone who knows how to handle a hothead. “Alright, alright.” he mutters, his voice like the calm in the eye of a storm. Schlatt grumbles but doesn’t resist, muttering a final insult under his breath before turning back to the table. As the scene plays out, a blonde girl lounging on the couch on your side rolls her eyes, leaning toward you with a knowing smile. “You guys are totally gonna destroy them.”

Joelle lights up, pointing at her with a grin. “Oh, I like this girl already.”

As the game kicks off, Ted and Schlatt waste no time, each sinking a shot with precision that draws a chorus of cheers. Groaning in defeat, you and Joelle lift your cups and take your drinks, the fizzy drink doing little to soften the sting of their early lead. From the other side of the table, Schlatt’s voice cuts through the noise, pointing a finger aimed squarely at the guy in the pink hoodie. “How’s that for losing, bitch?!” he shouts, his grin wide and triumphant, earning another round of laughter and hollers from the crowd.

 The more time you spent in the epicenter of the party, the more you noticed Schlatt’s shift in demeanor. It wasnt necessarily bad, just different- The way he’d spoken to you at the bar, or even how he’d just acted with you, Ted, and Joelle in the kitchen 20 minutes earlier, felt like a far cry from the boisterous, crowd-rousing host now commanding the room. The soft chuckles and understated gestures you’d grown familiar with were replaced by loud, triumphant cackles whenever he made a good play, and exaggerated mock-punches to the wall behind him whenever he fucked up. It was like watching a different side of him come alive, a version fueled by the energy of the crowd. You found yourself mesmerized, caught somewhere between amusement and intrigue. Schlatt seemed to feed off the energy in the room, thriving on the attention and laughter that followed his every move. He was magnetic in this setting, his booming voice and larger-than-life antics commanding the space effortlessly. And somehow, in the middle of all the chaos, his attention would occasionally flicker back to you—brief, fleeting glances that made your stomach flutter despite yourself.

Yet, even as he leaned into his role as the life of the party, you couldn’t help but wonder which version of him was closer to the real one—or if they both were, just in different contexts.

Before you even realized, the game was nearing its conclusion, and you were losing– you and Joelle’s one remaining cup facing Ted and Schlatt’s two. You glance at Joelle as she lines up for her second shot after missing the first, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration. With a flick of her wrist, the ball arcs perfectly into the cup, drawing groans from the other side of the table. Joelle erupts in triumph, fist-pumping the air. “Let’s go!” she shouts, and you cheer alongside her as the two of you high-five. Schlatt scoffs dramatically, shaking his head as he grabs the cup and chugs his half before passing the rest to Ted. “Unbelievable.” he mutters under his breath. Ted gestures grandly toward the remaining cups, his voice dripping with confidence. “And it all comes down to this, my loves.” he purrs, picking up his own drink from the floor and chugging the rest in one smooth motion.

The pet name catches you off guard, a flutter of warmth spreading through your chest before you can suppress it. You know it's just part of Ted's natural charm, but this time it got to you. You glance at Joelle, who’s already looking at you with an expression that perfectly mirrors your own flustered amusement. Leaning into each other, the two of you dissolve into tipsy giggles. You don’t notice how Schlatt elbows Ted lightly, the glare he shoots his friend anything but playful—daggers sharp enough to kill. Ted responds with a questioning look, his brows raising slightly in surprise. You and Joelle turn back to the table just as they both snap out of it, the moment passing like a whisper in the noise of the room. Ted steps forward, lining up his final shot with exaggerated focus.

Ted steadies his hand, the room falling into a brief, charged silence as everyone watched his every move. “Let’s do it, baby!” he shouts as he tosses the ball, and for a split second, it feels like time slows…

It misses, bouncing off the rim of the cup and onto the floor. A chorus of exaggerated groans erupts around the room, followed by a round of laughter. Ted puts his hands on his head. “No! Fuck!” He looks at Schlatt, who has squatted on the ground with his head in his hands. “Oh my fucking god. Ted.” You hear him mutter. After a moment he stands up, pointing at the ball on the ground. “Go get the ball. I’m gonna show you how a real fuckin’ man wins beer pong.” Ted scoffs as he grabbed the ball and slapped it into Schlatt’s open hand. “Alright, Mr. Beer Pong Prodigy, take your shot and save us all.”

 Schlatt shot him a pointed look before focusing on the shot. “I got this, man.” He tossed the ball with exaggerated precision, only for it to bounce off the rim and onto the floor the same way Ted’s shot had landed. The room erupted in laughter as Schlatt shouted a pained “Fuck!” and dragged a hand down his face. “Oh my god. Oh my god!” 

The other guests roared with laughter, some clutching their sides as Schlatt groaned dramatically, pacing back and forth like the weight of the world had just crushed him. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered, dragging both hands down his face now. Ted can't contain his amusement, his grin stretching wider as he pats Schlatt on the back. “You really showed us how it’s done, buddy,” he says through laughs. He slings an arm over Schlatt’s shoulder, the picture of faux sympathy. “Don’t worry, man. We’ll get ‘em next time.” Schlatt just glares. “Shut up, Ted.” he snapped, but there was no real bite to his words. His expression softened into a begrudging grin as he looked around at the still-laughing crowd. “Alright, alright, everyone get it out of your system. Y’ act like you’ve never seen a man miss before.”

Joelle leans over to you with a grin as the commotion settles, offering you the ping-pong ball. “You wanna land our winning shot?” You glance at her, mischievous grin matching your own, and take the ping-pong ball from her. The lack of weight to it feels strangely significant. “I’ll try not to disappoint.” you say with a wink, straightening up and focusing on the cups across the table. Joelle’s volume lowers as she steps back, her voice teasing. “No pressure, right? You’ve got this.” The room falls into a tense silence, every pair of eyes locked on you. Not a single word is spoken, the only sound filling the air is the low thrum of the music. Ted and Schlatt, still recovering from their earlier fuck-ups, glance at each other before turning their focus back to you, half-smiles tugging at their lips. Schlatt lets out a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms with exaggerated patience. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” he says, his tone a mix of challenge and curiosity.

You line up the shot, taking a deep breath as you focus on the farthest cup— the last remaining. For a split second, the world narrows to just you, the ball, and the target. You feel Joelle’s eyes on you, focusing on her familiar gaze to distract you from everyone else’s. You flick your wrist, sending the ball sailing through the air in a perfect arc. Time seems to stretch for another moment. The ball hits the rim of the cup, bounces, and then... 

swishes straight in.

The room bursts into cheers and laughter, the tension melting away. You and Joelle scream in surprise, throwing your arms around each other in a tight embrace. The victory feels surreal, the rush of it hitting you both all at once. You exchange wide grins, your laughter blending as you high-five. It’s just a game—a houseparty match of beer pong, something you’ve played a hundred times before back in college. No grand prize, no tangible reward for your effort—but for some reason, this win feels different. It’s a small, stupid, fleeting triumph, yet it’s worth every bit of emotional celebration. “That’s what I’m talking about!” Joelle says, pulling you into another hug, her excitement matching yours. “Now that’s how it’s done!” Ted’s booming voice cuts through the noise, and you glance over to see him grinning like a maniac.“Who’s fucking team are you on, man?!” Schlatt’s voice rings out in response, cutting through the rising clamor of the room. His frustrated tone is at odds with the rest of the celebration, but there’s a playful bite to it that keeps the atmosphere light. “What’d I say? Fuck you, Schlatt!” The guy in the pink hoodie shouts once again, his voice loud above the laughter. You catch a flicker of anger flash in Schlatt’s eyes, but it evaporates just as quickly, replaced by a deep breath and a roll of his shoulders. “I’m not even… going to dignify that with a response.”

You glance at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. He’s standing at the table, shaking his head dramatically with arms crossed as he glares between you and Ted. Ted just shrugs, clearly unfazed by his friend’s attitude. “C’mon, man. She crushed it. You can’t even be mad.” He rubs Schlatt’s shoulder in consolement but Schlatt just grunts, trying (and failing) to suppress a grin. “Fuckin’ unbelievable.” Schlatt mutters through his grin. “Alright, alright, you got us. I’ll give it to you.” He pauses as he and Ted down the last two cups of beer, then continues. “But next time, I’m gonna win.” You chuckle, the playful back-and-forth easing any tension that had lingered. “We’ll see about that.” you reply, not quite able to hide the pride in your voice.

As the excitement begins to fade, the crowd starts to scatter, some heading to the kitchen for more drinks. The hum of conversation and laughter fills the space, but it’s quieter now, more laid-back. Joelle nudges you with a playful grin. “That was awesome.” she says, still grinning from the rush of the game. You smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment settle in. “Yeah, it definitely felt good to land that shot.” you say, glancing at Ted and Schlatt as they talked. Joelle throws an arm around your shoulders. “I think we’ve earned a drink, don’t you?” With a laugh and a nod, you both head toward the kitchen, leaving the boys to their chat and their mock threats of revenge. The night is still young, and for now, you’re savoring every second of it.

You and Joelle mixed well into the crowd, getting the chance to properly introduce yourselves to the other guests and chatting as everyone refilled their cups. You reconnect with Charlie, the two of you talking about winning and Schlatt being a “little bitch” when it came to losing (Charlie’s words, not yours).

"Seriously, though, Schlatt's the worst." Charlie laughed, shaking his head. “The guy acts like he just lost the Super Bowl, not a beer pong game at his own party.” You chuckle, agreeing. “Yeah, he doesn’t handle it well. But, hey, you gotta respect the passion.” Charlie raises an eyebrow and laughs. "Passionate is definitely a word for it. I thought he was about to flip the fuckin’ table." You both laughed as you caught sight of Schlatt entering the room, joining a conversation by the fridge as he grabbed a Corona. There was a lighthearted edge to the way he was speaking now, the frustrated glint of defeat in his eyes now replaced with something sweeter. 

As the crowd around you settled into a relaxed rhythm, mingling and chatting, you couldn’t help but feel the growing ease of the atmosphere. Joelle had joined another group, deep in conversation, and you could feel her occasional glances toward you—she was definitely enjoying the night as much as you were. Then, the music blared louder, pumping new energy into the room. The guy Schlatt had been playing with when you first arrived—Ludwig, you’d learned his name was (thanks, Charlie)—leaned casually against the doorframe, fist raised in the air as he called out to the crowd. “Me and the boys are about to throw down for the next round of pong if anyone wants to spectate!” His voice carried a playful, almost frat-bro energy, drawing a few chuckles from those nearby. 

You shrug and follow Joelle, Ted, and Charlie back into the living room, where the couch had cleared. The four of you claimed the spot, sinking into the plush cushions as Schlatt and Tucker lingered behind with a few others. “Jesus, Schlatt, this couch is amazing,” Joelle commented, her voice full of admiration. Schlatt grinned, clearly pleased. “Thanks. The one thing I don’t skimp on is furniture. Right, Ted?” Ted rolled his eyes in response, and you guessed the topic was a sore subject between the two of them. “Man, I loved that stupid, shitty couch.” he muttered, a smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned back, clearly amused by the memory. You smile. “Well, now you gotta tell us about the couch.”

⭑

The night continued to unfold around you, the energy of the party shifting in waves. Conversations ebbed and flowed, the sound of laughter mixing with the steady thump of the music. You and Joelle played a few more rounds of beer pong, each match feeling like a new burst of adrenaline. The guys joined in, with Ted and Tucker teaming up against Schlatt and Charlie at one point. The game was a mess of playful banter and competitive energy, but in the end, Ted and Tucker claimed victory, raising their hands in triumph. “It’s all about childhood friendship and smoking weed, baby!” Ted declared, a grin plastered across his face as Tucker laughed and exclaimed with a “hell yeah!”.

With each drink, you felt more at ease, connecting with the new faces around you. The chill music, the spectating comments on the current game of beer pong that Joelle was participating in, and the hockey game that someone had turned the TV onto at some point all blended into the perfect mix of sounds and visuals to keep your tipsy brain entertained. You were having a good time—until, out of nowhere, the familiar buzz of inebriation began to feel a little too heavy, almost suffocating. You shifted in your seat, your whole body feeling hot as the warmth settled a bit too deep. The chatter around you faded into a low hum, and the bright lights from the TV flickered in your peripheral vision, making the room feel like it was spinning just slightly. Joelle’s laughter from across the room was comforting, but a throb began to pulse behind your temples.

Your gaze shifted to the sliding glass door in the back of the living room—was that a balcony?

Without thinking twice, you pushed yourself up from your seat. “I hope it’s okay to go out there,” you thought. “But honestly, I’ll deal with asking Schlatt for forgiveness if it means I’m not about to pass out right in the middle of his party.” You excused yourself quietly, slipping away from the couch and weaving through the crowd. 

As you stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air hit you like a wave, the sharp contrast to the warmth of the party a welcome relief. Ahead of you, Manhattan stretched out in all its glory, sparkling like a thousand diamonds. The city you loved so much seemed to pulse in rhythm with the distant hum of life, its lights twinkling like stars in the dark sky. The view was breathtaking, made even more mesmerizing by your tipsy haze. You close your eyes for a moment, letting the coolness settle against your skin, trying to force your body back into some semblance of normal. It’s just the buzz, you tell yourself. It’ll pass. You’re fine. Just need a minute.

Leaning against the railing, you took a long, steady breath, letting the fresh air clear the fog in your mind. It felt good to be outside, away from the noise, even if just for a few minutes. The city around you was a quieter companion from this high up and this late at night, offering a softer exchange between you and the view. The muffled sound of music filtered through the glass door behind you, but out here, it was just the steady rhythm of the night, calming and still. Peaceful. And as the dizziness finally began to lift and your thoughts started to settle, you instantly felt ten times better. You shoot a quick text to Joelle to tell her where you had gone in the midst of her beer pong frenzy.

Suddenly, you hear the door slide open behind you. You turned, expecting it to be someone you didn’t really know and preparing for an awkward conversation, but your breath caught in your throat as you realized who’s gaze you were meeting.

Schlatt.

He stepped out onto the balcony, pulling the door closed behind him as he handed you a water bottle. "Needed some air too?" he asked, his tone easy. You nodded, offering a small smile as you took the water bottle from him, cracking it open and taking a sip. The water was so cold it almost burned on the way down like the liquor had. "Thank you." you said, exhaling deeply. "Yeah, i’m good. Just needed a break. Things were... getting a little too much in there." You paused, glancing toward the view before adding with a small chuckle, "I hope it’s okay I came out here. Figured this was a better option than testing how far down the elevator went before I started puking trying to get out to the street for fresh air.” Schlatt let out a short laugh, leaning against the railing beside you, his broad shoulders easing into a relaxed pose. “You’re good, that was definitely the better option.” he said with a grin, lifting his water bottle to his mouth for a quick sip. His eyes flicker over you, usual confident demeanor fading into something a little softer. “You’re alright, though? I mean, aside from needin’ a breather?” “Yeah,” you said, leaning forward on the railing, letting the cool metal press against your arms. “It was just a lot all at once, you know? But this…” You nodded toward the city skyline, the lights twinkling. “This helps.” 

“It does,” he agrees. “I grew up here—well, in Brooklyn—and it still gets me sometimes. There’s something about it that just… puts things into perspective. Makes everything feel smaller.”

You turned your head to look at him, catching the way the city’s glow reflected in his eyes. For someone who could dominate a room with his sharp humor and larger-than-life presence, there was something grounding about seeing him like this—still and thoughtful, at ease in the quiet. You’re not sure what it is, but there’s something different in the way Schlatt looks at you now. It’s not a look of teasing or competition, like the one you’d seen during beer pong. This feels... more focused, as if he’s studying you, watching how you breathe in the night air, how your posture relaxes now that you’re away from the crowd. You catch yourself holding your breath, wondering if he notices too.

“Didn’t peg you as the reflective type.” you teased, your tone light.

He raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth curling into that familiar, playful grin. “Don’t let it fool you,” he shot back, his voice a little more relaxed, the playful glint returning to his gaze. “I’m not about to start journaling or writing poetry or anything. I just… like to take a minute when I can.”

There was a surprising honesty in his words that caught you off guard. It wasn’t the kind of thing you’d expect him to admit, and yet it felt so natural in the moment. You smiled softly, nodding. “I get it. I’m from here too.” His gaze flicked back to you, curiosity sparking in his expression. “Yeah? Explains the attitude.” he quipped, his grin widening. You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Yeah, you’re one to talk. I saw you playing beer pong, I bet you road rage like that, too.” Schlatt let out a bark of laughter, his grin stretching wider. “Road rage? What road rage? Please. I’m a model driver. Always have been.” You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Sure you are. Bet you’re the guy laying on the horn the second the light turns green.” He shook his head, trying to look indignant but failing miserably, smirking instead. “Nah, I give people at least a solid two seconds. It’s called being considerate.” “Generous,” you teased, leaning on the railing again, your words a bit slower as the alcohol fully settled. “So, what’s worse? Losing at beer pong or getting cut off in traffic?” “Oh, definitely losing at beer pong,” he said without hesitation, his words a little more drawn out than usual. “I can get over some idiot cutting me off on the Belt, but losing? To Ted and Tucker of all people? That’ll haunt me for weeks.” You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.” He shrugged, unapologetic, his shoulders dropping with a lazy ease that matched his smile. “What can I say? I’m competitive. Comes with the territory.” “Yeah, okay,” you said with a chuckle, the sound light and carefree.

“Anyways,” Schlatt said after a beat, his tone lighter but curious. “You always lived in New York?” 

“Pretty much.” you said, turning to face him, the city lights blurry at the edges of your vision. “Born and raised, though I moved around a bit for school and work before coming back. Couldn’t stay away for long, though. I’m not from the city or anything, I’m about an hour and a half out, but I’ve always loved it here. It’s always just… called to me. It has that pull, you know?” He nodded, a knowing look in his eyes, and you noticed the way his eyes squinted just a little more than usual, like he was trying to keep focus. “Yeah. No matter where you go, it’s always in the back of your head, isn’t it? Like it’s waiting for you to come back.” “Exactly,” you said, surprised at how perfectly he’d put it, the words coming easier than they should. You studied him for a moment, curiosity pulling at you. “What about you? Do you ever think about leaving?”

Schlatt tilted his head as he considered the question, his gaze drifting just a little. “I did, for a while.” he admitted, his words slower now, each one weighed with thought. “I lived in Texas for a few years, in Austin. Thought I loved it, but I realized after way too long that it was a shithole, and I missed my life here. Maybe I'd leave again once I’m retired, but it’s hard to imagine. New York’s in my blood, you know? Even when it drives me nuts, it’s home.” You smiled. “Guess that makes you a true New Yorker, huh?” “Damn right.” he said, raising his water bottle in a mock toast. “And don’t you forget it.”

The two of you met gazes, and for the first time all night, you really, truly looked at him. 

It’s not the playful teasing or the loud, larger-than-life energy of Schlatt’s party-host persona that stands out now. In this quiet moment, there’s something different about him—more grounded, more present, almost like you’re back at the bar with him. His eyes, usually sharp and full of confidence, are softer now, more thoughtful, like he’s letting his guard down just a little. His expression is calm, and you realize how much this side of him contrasts with the guy who had been the center of attention just hours ago. For a moment, the noise from inside fades into the background, and the only sound is the soft hum of the city around you. It’s a strange feeling—one that pulls at something deeper. You feel it in the air between you, a subtle shift that catches you both off guard. Schlatt’s lips twitch, like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t, and neither do you. Instead, he takes a small step back from the railing, running a hand through his hair, the casual gesture almost self-conscious. “Well… anyway,” he says, his voice pulling back into that familiar, confident tone, but slower now. “You feelin’ better?” You smile, a soft chuckle escaping you. “Oh, yeah. Definitely still kinda drunk, but better.” you reply, a little hesitant to break the tense moment, but knowing that’s what he was trying to do. Still, there’s something about it—the way he subtly shifts back, like he's putting the walls up again—that lingers in the air, unspoken. You turn back toward the door, the party still going on inside, waiting. But there’s a part of you that knows this conversation, this small break in the night, will stay with you longer than the noise that surrounds it.

"Hey, why is it that we only seem to cross paths like this when we're both kinda drunk?" Schlatt asks, ending with a hearty laugh, breaking the silence. You laugh at his question, not fully realizing how true that was until you heard it out loud. “I dunno. Maybe it’s fate.” “Fate, huh? You believe in that shit?" You shrug. “I dunno. Maybe? I kinda like the idea that everything I’m supposed to become is out there waiting for me, but I’d also like to think I still have some say in the matter too.” You take a sip of your water. “What about you? D’you think this gorgeous penthouse with one of the best views of Manhattan has just been sitting here waiting for you for 25 years?” you ask, gesturing around the apartment.

He laughs, shaking his head. "Oh, hell no. The last guy who lived here killed himself in the bathroom. If the universe's been subconsciously calling me to live here, I’m pretty sure it’s not setting me up for anything good." You freeze for a moment, eyes wide in disbelief. He chuckles at your reaction, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'm kidding." You roll your eyes, shaking your head. "You're ridiculous." He grins, shrugging. "Yeah, I know."

 As silence settles back over the two of you, you hear a familiar song begin playing from inside. The lyrics are muffled, but the beat is unmistakable. You smile, turning your head toward the music. “Did you make this playlist?” Schlatt’s brow furrows slightly at the question, his smile shifting to one of mild confusion. “Yeah, actually. Why? You not feeling it?” You grin. “No, quite the opposite. I love this song.” His eyebrows raise, and you raise your hand to your mouth in a mock-microphone pose, singing along to the lyrics you can barely piece together but know by heart. Schlatt grins and joins in quietly. As the first verse ends, you both dissolve into laughter.

“That was so stupid,” you say, still giggling as you catch your breath. “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nah, don’t apologize. It wasn't stupid. It was cute.” The blush creeping up your neck betrays you once again, and you turn slightly, letting the music fill the space between you. 

Did he just say cute?

Schlatt’s voice breaks the quiet before you have time to think about it. “Kinda funny that this song’s playing right now, huh?” You glance over your shoulder at him, curiosity sparked. “Why?” He hesitates, his fingers drumming lightly against the plastic bottle in his hand. “Do you know what the song’s actually about?” You shake your head. He draws a short breath, almost like he’s steadying himself. “It’s, uh… it’s about meeting a girl at a party who seems so cool, so out of reach, that you end up just waiting around for the perfect song to come on to give you the nerve to go talk to her.”

Your lips part slightly, the weight of his words settling in the space between you. The air feels different now—charged, as though the universe itself had leaned in closer to eavesdrop. “Yeah?” you ask, your voice softer, a little unsure, as you met his gaze. He nods, the corner of his mouth tilting up into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, like he’s testing the waters. “Yeah.”

The world around you seemed to blur at the edges, softened by the gentle haze of the night and your tipsy state. His deep brown eyes, framed by long, delicate lashes, held your gaze effortlessly. As your eyes traced the contours of his face, you found yourself memorizing every freckle, every mole, every faint line etched by laughter and time, all illuminated by the soft glow of the dim light. That warm blush was still ever present across your cheeks, now unmistakable even in the chill of the night. Part of you hoped he’d chalk it up to the cold, but a quieter, bolder part of you almost wished he wouldn’t.

“Hey, would you-” He speaks, words hanging heavy in the air, thick with tension between the two of you. “Would you maybe wanna go get dinner sometime?”

The words hung in the air, their weight settling between you like something fragile and precious. You could feel your pulse quicken, the warmth in your chest spreading outward as his gaze softened just slightly, waiting for your response. Your lips parted, but no words came at first. His question had been so simple, yet it felt like the most important thing in the world. You couldn't help but smile, a little nervous, a little breathless, but entirely captivated by the way he was looking at you, the way he seemed to be hanging on your answer.

Yes please, absolutely, a million times yes.

Before you could manage to squeeze out your answer, the door behind you slides open. Both you and Schlatt turn toward the sound, breaking the moment. A shorter guy steps out, sunglasses perched on his head and a Switch controller in hand. You recognize him vaguely from earlier—Connor, maybe? “Hey, Sch—oh, shit, sorry if I’m interrupting,” he blurts, pausing as he takes in the scene. “I was just sent to tell you Hasan’s heading out and wants to say goodbye.”

Schlatt sighs, a deep red flush settling over his face as he stands from leaning his forearms on the railing. “Of course he does.” he mutters under his breath. He flashes a quick look at you, his expression softening for just a split second. “I’ll be right back.” he adds, before turning toward Connor and walking inside. Schlatt walks off, and Connor just looks at you. “You comin’ in?” He asks, and you nod. “Yeah, thank you.”

You glance at your phone, your heart skipping as you realize it’s nearly 3 AM—how long had you been outside? You start to think it’s probably time to find Joelle and head back to your apartment. The time spent outside, combined with the water bottle Schlatt had brought you and the emotional conversation you’d just shared, definitely sobered you up a bit—but any progress you had made had immediately been thrown off by Schlatt’s question, head now spinning for an entirely different reason. Nerves? Excitement? Maybe both?

 Glancing around, you notice that several people had already left, leaving a smaller group huddled on the couches, engrossed in a video game. As you scanned the crowd, your brain zeroed in and focused when you realized Joelle was nowhere to be seen. You take a step forward, then stop in your tracks, scanning the room for a face you could confidently put a name to. You spot Tucker leaning against the wall, and quickly make your way over. “Hey, do you know where Joelle went?” you ask. “Oh, she passed out on the couch earlier.” Your stomach tightens, and you must’ve made a face because he quickly adds, “Oh, not like, passed out-passed out. Just fell asleep.” He gestures toward the hallway. “Ted took her to the guest room to let her chill. It’s the second door on the left.” Relief washes over you, though it doesn’t completely extinguish your nerves. “Okay, cool. Thank you.” 

As you turn toward the hallway, unease creeps back in. You try to shake it off, telling yourself it’s nothing, but the thought lingers: hopefully, everything’s fine. Approaching the dimly lit hallway, you spot a door left slightly ajar. You cross your fingers, hoping it’s the right room—and hoping even more that you’re not about to walk in on something you’ll wish you hadn’t seen. Taking a slow breath, you nudge it open just enough to peek inside. The room is dim, bathed in the soft glow of a lamp on the nightstand. Relief washes over you as you see Joelle, fully clothed, peacefully sprawled on the bed. Her head rests gently in Ted's lap, and he looks up at you as the door creaks open. His fingers are gently threading through her hair, playing with it absentmindedly as he scrolls through his phone. "Hey.” he says, a soft smile forming on his lips, his voice barely above a whisper. "Hey." you reply, matching his quiet tone to avoid waking Joelle as you move over to sit on the edge of the bed, near her legs.

“She’s fine,” he says quietly, preempting any questions. “Just needed a place to crash. She conked out waiting for her turn on Mario Kart.” You give a small nod, the tension in your shoulders easing a little. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Thanks for making sure she’s okay.” you say softly. Ted’s eyes flicker toward Joelle before returning to you, his voice still quiet but steady. “Yeah, no problem. She’s a sweetheart.” You smile at his words, feeling a warmth settle over you in the quiet of the room. “Yeah, she is.” you agree, glancing at Joelle again, her chest rising and falling with every soft breath.

After a moment, you break the silence. “We should probably get going soon.” You place a hand on Joelle’s leg, rubbing it gently to wake her up. “Hey, Jelly.” you call softly, volume at a slightly higher level. She stirs, letting out a small grunt, and Ted chuckles under his breath. “Hmmm…? Y/N?” she murmurs, blinking slowly as she starts to wake up. “Yeah, it’s me.” You respond, smiling. “We’re still at Schlatt’s, you fell asleep. I’ll give you a couple of minutes to wake up, but we’re gonna head out soon, okay?” She sighs, rubbing her eyes. “Okay.” As she opens them, her gaze flicks through a few emotions before settling into a grin when she realizes she’s lying in Ted’s lap. “Oh hey, cutie.” she says, her voice light. Ted lets out a nervous laugh. “Oh hey, pretty girl.” You roll your eyes, smiling playfully as you stood up from the bed. “Okay, I’ll be back for you in ten minutes. I better not catch any funny business when I come back!” you say, adopting a mock parental tone. Joelle giggles, and as you turn to leave, you throw them an accusatory glance through the crack in the door. “I see everything.” you mutter, closing the door softly behind you with a smile. You turn your back to the wall, sliding down until you're sitting on the floor. You pull your phone out and scroll for a moment, but before you can get too lost in it, you hear the sound of a door shutting at the opposite end of the hall.

“What’s goin’ on over here?”

You look up to find Schlatt walking toward you with a beer in hand, that familiar grin on his face. You can't help but smile in return. “Another beer? You might wanna slow down there, dude.” He scoffs, closing the distance and sliding down to sit against the opposite wall. He bends one leg to fit across from you in the narrow hallway. “I’m 6’3 and 250 pounds. It takes a lot more than what I’ve had tonight to get me drunk.” You raise an eyebrow, stifling a laugh as he finishes the sentence with a small hiccup. “Right.” 

Changing the subject, you gesture behind you toward the guest room. “Ted and Joelle are in there,” you explain. “She fell asleep on the couch earlier, so he was just keeping an eye on her while she napped. We’re heading out soon, but I figured I’d give her a few minutes to wake up and say her goodbyes. I told them no funny business.” Schlatt takes a swig of his beer, eyes narrowing. “There better not be any funny business. I’ll kick Ted’s ass if he tries anything in my house.” You laugh, and he lets out a soft chuckle.

 “Thank you for inviting us,” you say, your gaze meeting his again. He smiles. “Yeah, anytime. Although, I’m not sure how many more parties like this I’ll be throwing. I’ve been over it for the last, like, two hours.” he adds, a slight weariness in his tone. You grin. “The curse of being the life of the party, huh?” He nods. “Yep. Guess so.” The smile still lingers on his lips, but his eyes carry a different weight, something hidden beneath the surface of his words.

“Did you have a good time?” he asks, his eyes gleaming with a quiet, hopeful curiosity. “Yeah, I did!” you reply with a small smile, feeling the warmth of the night settle around you. “I was pretty nervous at first, with Joelle and I being the only ones who didn’t know everyone else, but it worked out. Everyone was super nice.” He nods. “Good. I’m glad.” The two of you sit there together, the hum of the party still floating through the air from the living room. You notice him absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of his crewneck, his gaze distant as though his thoughts are far away. Before you can ask what’s going on in that (frustratingly unreadable) mind of his, his eyes flick up to meet yours– that confident glint you recognized from earlier was back. 

“About what i asked earlier.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he continued. “I know I pointed out how we’ve only ever crossed paths while we’re getting drunk, but.. I dont need the alcohol to want to hang out with you. You’re cool, you’re easy to talk to, i just…” he pauses. “Would really like to see you while i’m not already four beers deep. And that’s crazy coming from me, ‘cause I love to drink.” he ends the sentence with a small laugh, and you smile, looking away from him to distract from the major blush creeping across your face. 

Was this seriously happening? The handsome guy you met at the bar last week, the one who was textbook-definition your type, texted you all week, invited you to his party, and now was asking you on a date? Not to mention, your best friend was currently getting into it with his best friend. Either the universe was answering every prayer you’d ever sent its way, or it was setting you up for the most gloriously humbling disaster of your life.

Pulling yourself from your swirling thoughts, you glance back at him. There’s a flicker of nerves in his expression, something endearing and almost vulnerable. You smile, letting your words tumble out before overthinking them.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

He raises his eyebrows, his lips twitching into a playful grin. “‘I’d like that’? I work up all this courage to ask you out on a completely stone cold sober date, and all you’ve got for me is, ‘I’d like that’?” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “You’re such a diva.” Crossing his arms, he leans back against the wall, the familiar shit-eating grin spreading across his face like it never left. “Nah, I wanna hear you say it.” You shoot back. “Are you serious?” “Dead fuckin’ serious,” he replies, nodding with feigned seriousness, the laughter already breaking through his voice. “You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, shaking your head. “Fine. Yes, Schlatt, I’ll go on a date with you.” “Sober?” he presses, his tone teasing but his eyes sparkling with real amusement. “Yes,” you reply, drawing out the word dramatically. “Completely sober. I promise.” He nods, his grin softening into something almost boyish. “Alright. That’s what I like to hear.”

He leans back against the wall, clearly pleased with himself, and takes a sip of his beer. You can’t help but shake your head, a grin tugging at your lips as you watch him. The room feels a little warmer, the noise fading into the background as the moment lingers between you.

“So,” you tease, breaking the silence, “where does a guy like you take someone on a sober date?” Schlatt smirks, tilting his head as if he’s deep in thought. “Oh, you know, somewhere real high end for you. Probably a dive bar—” he lets out a fake wince. “Wait, can’t do that. Forgot the ‘sober’ part.” You laugh, sticking him with a soft punch to the leg. “Very funny.” He chuckles, the sound low and easy. “You know me.” 

The two of you sit, chatting and laughing, the hallway conversation stretching longer than you’d realized. A glance at your phone jolts you back to reality: 3:54 AM. “Jesus, okay, I really need to go home. Where’s my roommate?” you mutter, pushing yourself up from the floor.Schlatt stands as well, adjusting his crewneck as he pushes off from the wall. You turn to the door of the guest room, knocking lightly. When no response comes, you knock again, louder this time. Still nothing. Schlatt rolls his eyes. “For fuck’s sake. Let’s go, Ted. Let the poor woman go home.” Without hesitation, he grabs the handle and swings the door open. 

Both of you freeze. 

Joelle is straddling Ted’s lap on the edge of the bed, the two completely lost in a heated make-out session. “Jesus fucking Christ!” Schlatt blurts, shielding his eyes dramatically. “Didn’t Y/N specifically say no funny business?!” Joelle pulls back, breathless but grinning sheepishly, while Ted groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Could’ve knocked.” Ted mutters. “I Did! Twice!” you exclaim, throwing your hands in the air with a smile of disbelief. Schlatt crosses his arms. “Honestly, Ted, this is just embarrassing. Under my roof? I’d say you’re better than this, but i think we both know that’d be a dirty fuckin’ lie.” 

Joelle laughs, still perched on Ted’s lap, clearly unbothered. “Alright, alright, you’ve caught us. Let me grab my stuff, and we’ll head out,” she says, sliding off Ted and smoothing her hair with zero urgency. Ted huffs, his cheeks flushed as he stands, adjusting himself and shooting Schlatt a pointed look—half sheepish, half murderous, as if to say I’m going to strangle you for this. Schlatt, of course, is utterly unfazed, leaning further into this mock-authoritative dad persona. “You are not sleeping in that bed tonight.” Schlatt says, leveling a dramatic finger at him. “Clean sheets, Ted. You don’t deserve them.” Ted throws his hands up in frustration, though his smirk betrays his disamusement. “Fine. Couch it is. Happy, Dad?” “Ecstatic,” Schlatt fires back, his smug grin growing. “Now get the fuck ‘outta here before you traumatize Y/N and I any further.” Ted scoffs. “Oh, please. Like you haven’t done worse in less respectable places.” he continues as he saunters out of the room. Schlatt’s grin widens, unrepentant as he follows his friend out. “Yeah, but I don’t get caught. Rookie mistake, my man.”

You shake your head, still laughing as Joelle grabs her bag and slips on her shoes. “God, they’re worse than us,” she mutters, rolling her eyes affectionately and flashing you a grin. “Seriously,” you snicker, motioning her toward the door. “Let’s get out of here before whatever they’ve got rubs off on us. I’m not ready to start sucking at beer pong too.”

As you step back into the main room, only a small group of people remains, gathered around the couches and fixated on a YouTube video playing on the TV—its chaotic humor incomprehensible out of context. You and Joelle make your way over to say your goodbyes, exchanging a few high-fives and Instagram handles along the way. It warms your heart to hear that these creative, talented content creators enjoyed your company as much as you did theirs. You bid your dramatic goodbye to Ted, who you actually found yourself becoming a lot better friends with than you expected. He was a goofball, but he was genuine. 

As you turn, you spot Schlatt leaning against the wall next to the front door, his gaze fixed on you. A small smile tugs at your lips as you approach him. “So,” he says with a grin, his voice low and easy. “how’s next Wednesday at 6:30 sound?”

 Your heart flutters at the thought—Schlatt, actually taking you out on a date.

“Sounds perfect,” you reply, a smile playing on your lips. “Where are we going?” He shrugs, his grin shifting to something more sheepish. “Honestly? I have no idea yet. Didn’t expect to get this far. But I’ll let you know.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Right.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ted and Joelle exchanging hugs and saying their final goodbyes. You glance back at Schlatt, warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest unmistakable—and for once, it’s not the result of alcohol. 

“Well,” you say softly, holding his gaze, “thank you for the party. I’ll talk to you later, and…” You smile sweetly, your voice light. “I’ll see you Wednesday at 6:30.” Schlatt’s grin widens, and his eyes light up in a way that makes your cheeks flush. “I’ll be there.” You scoff playfully. “You better. I know where you live now—I’ll find you.” Schlatt smirks, stepping aside to open the door for you. “Yeah, I bet.” 

You take a step back, lingering just a moment longer. “Goodnight, Schlatt.” He smiles, leaning on the doorframe, Ted looming behind him. “Goodnight, Y/N.” He extends a goodnight to Joelle as well, and the two of you set off down towards the elevators.

As you hear the door latch behind you, Joelle nudges you with her elbow. “That was cute, what was that?” You grin, still feeling the warmth of the moment. “God, Joelle, I have so much to tell you.”

← last chapter

[waffluous]

god i finally got aroudn to catching up with the new &team songs and theyve been so solid

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - 18+ fantasy smut, description of a threesome, hospital/medical jargon request: team dinner, sick fic, someone drops the L word

"Cannae get over the size of the lad."

Orion's got a fist curled around Johnny's fingers, trying and failing to pull them into his mouth.

"I know." You roll your eyes, inclining your head towards Simon. "Are you really surprised though?"

Everyone laughs. Simon warms.

You've broken out of your shell, piece by piece over the course of dinner, shyly getting to know everyone, watching their banter and usual bullshit.

He wasn't sure it was possible, but the way you tease Soap makes him love you even more.

"No, suppose not." Soap laughs, and you smile at him, full and bright, so cute he could tug you into his lap right here in front of his entire team, spread you wide for them to see, show them how much of a good girl you are. How perfect you are, how you cum on his fingers, how tight your pussy squeezes. Of course, he'd never let Johnny or Kyle touch you, too much inexperience, too much raw energy, but his captain-

he'd help you take John's cock. Hold your back to his chest, pull your knees up towards your ears. You'd whine and cry and he'd lick your tears, telling you how pretty you are with his captain's fat cock in your belly, reaching down to rub your clit and spread his fingers over where you're stretched.

It's fantasy. Nothing more. He's shared girls with John in the past, but the things they did as younger men are in the past, where they belong. They’re both too possessive, obsessive, and neither could bear it.

You'll never know another man again.

"Okay," Cami claps, pulling his attention, "Pie?"

"I'll help." You push your chair back, leaning over to press a kiss against Orion's cheek, and then stand, brow crinkled, slowly blinking.

Everything in Simon goes cold, muscles tensing. Something is wrong. He calls your name, but you don't respond. "Hey, hey mama-" In a split second, he hands the baby to Soap, turning back just in time to see your legs buckling, falling towards the edge of the table, where Price leaps from his seat, catching you with a forearm.

Chairs scrape, Cami shouts, Gaz starts dialing as you're lowered to the floor, his captain's fingers firm under your jaw. "Pulse is elevated." Nausea roars, skull pressurizing as Simon drops to his knees at your side, holding your face between his hands. He says your name, says it over and over, desperation and fear cracking the syllables, splitting them wide. You're breathing, but your heart is racing, triple a normal rhythm.

This is his fault. He should have pushed you harder to see a specialist, should have paid better attention, should have taken better care of-

Orion starts to cry.

"They're on their way." Gaz tells the room calmly, level head prevailing. It jolts Simon, orients him, pulls him out of a dreadful spiral and back to the needs at hand. He holds onto it, composure barely a shred as he strokes his thumb across the apple of your cheek, counting your breaths, gaze locked on the rise and fall of your chest.

"It's okay," he says, hoping somewhere behind your closed eyes, you can hear him, "it's gonna be alright, honey. I'm here, 'm right here."

Time passes in a blur, everything happening too quickly and all at once, medics arriving, flat keys passing to Gaz and Cami, who offer to take Orion home and stay there for as long as needed, John and Soap promising they'll meet him at the hospital as you're loaded into the back of the ambulance, Simon stepping in behind.

"She's gonna be alright, LT." Johnny yells right before the doors close, confidence in his eyes. It's hopeful, and firm, and Simon clings to it as they race down the road, unable to look away from where you lay with an oxygen mask fitted over your nose and mouth, monitors beeping too quickly in the foreground on the sirens.

"Mr Riley?" He turns from his pacing on a dime, registering the subtle jerk from the nurse before her expression turns placid. "Your wife is conscious, we've admitted her for some testing. Would you like to see her?"

"Yes." He croaks, looking over his shoulder at Johnny and Price, who give him a serious nod. Testing. Admitted. Christ. "What happened? Is she..." he loses his words, fear seizing his lungs yet again, before he manages a breath, "is she going to be okay?" They come to a stop in front of a room, and the nurse gives him a sympathetic smile.

"She's conscious, heart rate down to a healthy bpm. The cardiologist will be by shortly to discuss everything with you." It's a non answer, building frustration in the pit of his stomach, but he nods. "Found him!" She announces as she opens the door, and you smile from across the room.

He's never closed a distance so fast in his life.

"Hey-" He covers your mouth with his, hand on the back of your head. He was supposed to protect you, keep you safe, and look where you are. "Whoa." You whisper, and he shakes his head.

"Scared me to death."

"I'm sorry. I d-don't... I don't know what's wrong." Your voice creaks, breaking on a thick note, and he pulls a chair as close as he can manage up to the bed, holding onto your hand.

"It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay. We're gonna figure it out, alright?" You nod, lower lip rolling, trembling, and he wants to wrap you up, rip himself open and bury you inside his heart, hidden away from everything, anything that could hurt you, even your own body.

"Orion?"

"Went home with Kyle and Cami. They'll stay as long as we need them." You sniffle, tear spilling down your cheek. He feels sick.

"Shhh, you're alright, mama."

"I'm scared." You're crying now, trying to wipe your face with trembling fingers.

"I know. I know you are, but it's going to be okay. I'm here, 'm gonna make sure you're taken care of. Take a breath f'me," your inhale is shaky, but you manage it, and he smiles encouragingly, "that's it- good."

The knock on the door comes a few seconds later, and Simon swallows everything threatening to upend him as the doctor steps in the room. It's okay. It's okay.

"Mrs Riley?" You manage a raised eyebrow in Simon's direction, and he gives you a small smile. Best to not get into it. You clear your throat.

"That's... me."

"A what?"

"A tilt table test. It's the most accurate test for diagnosing POTS." You're nervous, Simon can tell, glancing continually at him, who is latched onto every word coming from the doctor's mouth.

"What... how does it work?"

"We lay you flat on a table, and then after a few minutes, tilt you directly upright. At the same time, we track your heart rate with an ECG, and your blood pressure with a cuff. If the tilt doesn't trigger the response, we usually start an IV to give you a little bit of medicine which can provoke the response so to speak, if needed." You gulp.

"Is it safe?" Simon grits, the idea of you strapped to table with wires and an IV making his head spine.

"Very safe," the doctor reassures patiently, "the test has little risk of complications." You squeeze Simon's hand, and he squeezes back. I'm here.

"Okay, let's... let's do it then."

The test takes too long. Every minute, every second you're not within eye sight breaks him down, threatens to derail his level head.

By the time you’re back in the room, he’s resumed pacing, hand rubbing the back of his neck raw.

“Hi.” You smile. You seem… better. More relaxed, less scared. It soothes him.

“Hey mama. Everything go alright?”

“I fainted during the test.” You whisper, and he brings your hand to his lips.

“That’s alright.”

It’s POTS. More severe than a standard case, the doctor says, explaining how an off label side effect of a specific medication helps treat the condition. In addition, he goes over things that may exacerbate it, caffeine, alcohol, stress, and promises you can still breastfeed on the medicine and resume normal activity.

There’s a plan. A treatment. An answer, and Simon likes that. He likes knowing the path ahead, how to better care for you, how to make sure you’re supported, and you’re more comfortable too, happy to know there’s an end in sight for your symptoms.

What started as a terrifying experience ends as an okay one, and when the two of you relieve Gaz and Cami at home, he can’t help but pull you into his body, Orion snuggled in your arms.

“Want to tell me what that Mrs. Riley thing was about?” He shrugs as nonchalantly as he can muster.

“I love you, mama, and you’re going to be my wife. Might as well get you used to the name sooner rather than later.” He doesn’t miss your sharp intake breath, the shiver cascading over your skin.

Your head tips back, lips parted, and he kisses you long and slow, holding you tight, safe in his arms.

Where you belong.

[sttoru]

satoru hums a tune as he adjusts his sunglasses — putting them on the top of his head. he’s in a happy mood today; nothing or no one could wipe that big grin off his face. the reason?

“. . . gojo, hurry up.” megumi calls out whilst idly standing at the foot of the staircase that connected to the roads outside campus.

you smile as you see your lover gleefully walk down the stairs — jumping from one to the other. satoru’s smile was one you wish would never fade. ever.

“oh!” the white-haired sorcerer suddenly stops in his tracks. his sparkling eyes take in the sight before him and his heart skipped a beat at the realisation:

two of his favourite people were standing next to each other. waiting for him so they could go on their little (family) trip. satoru just had to capture this moment and put it in the album that’s dedicated to the both of you. it’s a must in his eyes.

“megumiiii,” satoru fishes his phone out of his pocket and puts it in landscape mode, tongue peeking out at the corner of his lips to show just how deeply he was concentrating on getting the perfect shot, “step a bit closer—yep! jus’ like that!”

“can we not do this? we’re gonna miss the train and—” megumi starts off with a sigh and a faint embarrassed pout, though was quickly cut off as you pulled him closer to your body — coddling him like he was still the little child satoru and you had met a couple years back.

the blue haired boy sighs once again, however eventually gives in and awkwardly puts up a peace sign. you smile brightly in return and satoru was absolutely cheesing behind his phone.

“awwww, how adorable!” satoru grins once he has taken about twenty different pictures — each one special and a treasure he will forever cherish. after putting the best one as his phone’s new lock screen, he rushes down the stairs and steps in-between megumi and you.

one arm holds your body close to his by the waist, the other arm wraps around megumi’s shoulders. megumi reluctantly allows it since he didn’t want to ruin the light-hearted atmosphere. that fact alone makes satoru even happier;

“let’s go — i can’t wait to finally spend some quality time with two of my favourite people, hehe.”

[worldofstoriesanddreams]

Isn't there an age limit?

The Justice League gathered in the meeting room to deal with yet another potential world ending threat. On the screen was a projection of an incoming alien armada. The invaders were as numerous as the stars. Each spaceship looked like a skull with many tentacles.

“These mechanical ships harvest a world’s resources, destroying all life, while terraforming the planet into servers which become part of Brainiac’s interstellar network,” Batman explained.

“We don’t have sufficient numbers to take them all down,” Martian Manhunter pointed out. “Is there a weakness we can target? Or do they have a leader we can capture to force the entire fleet into submission?”

“We need to locate Brainiac and infiltrate the ship he’s on.” While Batman spoke, a hush silence fell on the entire room. Everyone stared at the screen behind him, with mouths wide open.

Turning around, Batman stared in unbelief.

A massive sphere - a dead star, moved between Earth and the alien army. 

The cameras zoomed in on a red dot pushing it - Fawcett’s new local hero with the demeanour of a golden retriever - Captain Marvel. 

Gripping the titanic star like an oversized plastic ball, he swung it forward, hitting the incoming spaceships out of the galaxy.  

The Herculean man’s face lit with childish glee as he pumped his fist in the air. 

Grinning like an idiot, he carted the unimaginably heavy celestial object away, while whistling a ditty. 

How powerful was that man? 

More importantly, does he have any weakness in case he needs to be taken down?

“Phew,” Flash was the first to get his voice back. “The new guy took care of that. So can we go home now?”

“No,” Batman raised his hand. “Change of agenda. It’s time we expanded our membership.” Keep your friends close but your enemies closer. What better way to keep an eye on the new guy than to bring him into the fold.

Superman had a silly hopeful grin on his face. “I vote we invite Captain Marvel to join the League.”  The Last Son of Krypton must suspect that the new hero is a fellow Kryptonian.

“We don’t know anything about him,” Green Lantern cautioned.

“Better get him on our side than have him join our enemies,” Batman replied as the screen showed photos and articles about Captain Marvel gleaned from the internet for all to study.

“He’s clean.” Cyborg ran his checks on the man. “He’s a boy scout. Half of all the footage I have found — and I mean exactly half — shows him rescuing cats from trees or helping little old ladies cross the road while carrying groceries for them.”

“Cast your votes,” Batman ordered. “Do we want Captain Marvel to be a member of the Justice League?”

*

The decision was unanimous. Captain Marvel has a place in the Justice League, that is, if he wants it. With his power set, he would be a valuable asset to the team. All appearances of the new hero have shown that he is one of the good guys.

“I’ll ask him,” Superman volunteered. He was dying to meet the new guy. He had to be a fellow Kryptonian. Though he must have a chat with The Captain about Bat-paranoia, to hide how much Kryptonians can really do. Otherwise Bats might break out his Kryptonite stores to hit them both.

For example, while pushing a titanic star, for goodness sake, please make it look a lot more challenging.

According to Cyborg, Captain Marvel would appear in Fawcett right after a massive lightning strike from the clear, cloudless sky. The hero tended to patrol Fawcett for an hour before seven in the morning and for an hour after three in the afternoon on weekdays. His schedule was more unpredictable during the weekends. 

Clark was a reporter. 

Could The Captain be an elementary school teacher in his civilian identity?

It was a quarter past three on a Wednesday afternoon. Superman hovered four hundred feet above Fawcett’s busiest square, drawing a curious crowd while he waited for Captain Marvel to make his appearance.

Lightning struck an alley near a local elementary school.

“S-superman!” Captain Marvel hovered in front of him. 

The man’s brilliant blue eyes brimmed with excitement as he stared at Superman with an open-mouthed grin. 

“What brings you to Fawcett?” The Captain’s cheeks flushed as he stiffened, arms crossing his heavily muscled chest. If Superman didn’t know any better, he’d think Captain Marvel was starstruck.

“Captain Marvel,” Superman began, feeling a little self conscious.“I come on behalf of the Justice League. We’ve seen what you can do and want you to join our team.”

“You want me to join the Justice League?” The big guy was practically bouncing with excitement. If he were a golden retriever with a tail, he’d be wagging it.

Just as abruptly, he looked down, slouching as if trying to shrink his large frame. “But isn’t there an age limit to join the League?”

“We don’t discriminate against anyone based on their ages.” 

Superman whispered conspiratorially. “I don’t even know how old I was when my ship landed on earth. For all you know, it could have taken lightyears to get here.”

“Hmm,” Captain Marvel rubbed the back of his neck. “If you say so.”

“Take your time to think about it,” Superman handed him a League communicator. “This is for you. If you want to talk to us, just press this button,” he showed The Captain how to use the device.

“For me?” The guy looked as excited as a kid who had received a shiny new toy. 

“Yes, for you,” Superman replied. “Call us when you’ve decided.”

“I want in,” Captain looked up, grinning from ear to ear.

“Then, welcome to the Justice League!” Superman shook his hand. “Come with me to our headquarters.”

*

The flight to the Justice League’s Headquarters with Superman was fun. 

That giant satellite that Cap often flew past when he left earth’s atmosphere was the Justice League’s Watchtower -  a secret meeting place for Justice League members.

Billy was flying with Superman. 

Elated.

The SUPERMAN!

How cool was that?

His hero was a lot chattier in person. 

Superman talked about Krypton, his home world. His dad uploaded all Krypton’s history and knowledge into the A.I. of the spaceship that brought Kal-el to earth. 

Kal-el was Superman’s birth name.

“What’s your birth name?” Superman asked?

“William,” Cap replied.

“Wil-em,” Superman looked deep in thought. 

“The Ems — I think I know your bloodline.”

“You do?” The thought that Superman even cared about Billy’s family warmed him like a cup of hot chocolate. But as far as Billy knew, he was a Batson, not an Em. He was four when he lost his family. It’s been three years since. His memories of Daddy, Mummy and Mary were beginning to fade.

“Come with me to my Fortress of Solitude after your induction and I’ll show you Krypton’s records about the Ems,” Superman grinned as he tapped on the satellite.

A panel slid open.

“Where is it?” Cap asked as he flew into the airlock.

“In the Arctic,” he accompanied Cap in the dock.

“Are there polar bears?” Cap felt giddy with excitement.

“Plenty,” Superman laughed as he walked Cap through the massive hall. It was like nothing Billy had ever seen. 

“I can introduce you to a family of friendly bears,” Superman grinned.

“I would love that,” Billy’s heart did flip flops over the thought of getting to meet polar bears who were friends with Superman. Cap could speak all languages. He’d have a great time chatting with Superman’s bear buddies.

“Holy Moley,” Captain Marvel exclaimed as he walked through the security checkpoint. The doorway opened into futuristic corridor with interactive walls and holographic displays. 

Announcing the arrival of Superman and his guest Captain Marvel, a tinny voice rang out.

“Brace yourself,” Superman whispered. “The rest of the League is waiting for us in the meeting room.”

A metallic panel slid open revealing a grand meeting room. Batman sat at the head of the long table. Wonder Woman, Flash, Green Lantern, Cyborg and Aquaman sat around it. There were two empty seats.

All eyes were on Captain Marvel.

“Holy Moley,” Cap whispered. He couldn’t help himself. It’s a bad habit he picked up from his late father.

“Guys,” Superman announced. “Captain Marvel has agreed to join the Justice League.”

The room broke into applause.

“Welcome to the team,” Flash whooped.

“Let’s celebrate,” Aquaman tilted a large bottle of whiskey, filled a glass and slid it across the table to Captain Marvel.

Cap looked at the glass in front of him and back at Aquaman. “Isn’t there an age limit?”

[sea-lanterns]

PSYCHO

synopsis: (slasher! AU) you find yourself at a creepy inn in the middle of nowhere.

featuring: hu tao

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, dom character, stalking, peeping, perverted character, yandere-ish character, ooc character, peepholes, mast.urbation while peeping, breaking and entering, usage of a se.x to.y, fin.gering, shower se.x, degradation, obsessive character, not proofread.

art credits: my hero academia

The rain was heavy and loud, beating down against your windshield as your wipers fought furiously to keep your window clear. Driving out late at night in the middle of a storm was not ideal, however you really wanted to get to your destination soon without having to sleep on the side of the road again, so you continued to press on.

As the minutes passed by, it appeared the rain wasn’t letting up anytime soon, forcing you to seek refuge at any of the nearby motels in the area. Though you were literally driving through the middle of nowhere, your eyes spotted something flickering in the distance; a beam of red light that was unmistakable for a sign. You drove closer, pulling up to the sign and reading it through your watery windshield; “Wangsheng Inn” it read in big bold letters, a beacon of safety in the raging storm around you. 

“Ah…screw it.” You grumbled to yourself, pulling into the parking lot of the motel so you could rest for the night. This would definitely take a small dig into your wallet, but at this point anything was better than driving in the storm.

You parked your car and got out in the heavy rain, immediately getting soaked under mother nature’s downpour. You hurried to grab your bags from the trunk and drag them to the dimly lit check-in office in the corner. Through your hurry to get inside as soon as possible, you failed to notice the shadowy figure watching you from behind the curtain, watching as you scrambled across the parking lot to get to the office.

‘Cold cold cold cold’ you mentally cursed yourself and opened the door to the office, the warmth of a nearby radiator hitting your face and making you sigh with relief. Ah…that was better. You hurried inside and shut the door behind you, letting the warmth and dryness of the indoors seep into you while you walked up to the front desk.

Huh, that’s strange. There was no one there. You waited a few moments before looking over at the bell on the counter, underneath a sign that read “Ring for Service.”

So, like any other functioning adult, you tapped it once. Twice. Until finally you heard footsteps shuffling in the room behind the office, the door finally opening and revealing a young woman with a cute smile. 

“Ah, hello there!” She greeted rather cheerfully, her demeanor already coming across as cute. “Didn’t expect anyone to be out in this weather. Quite a storm huh?” 

“Uh, yes. It really is.” You were taken aback by how energetic she was so late at night, but you chalked it off as just her doing her job. “I would like to check in for the night.”

“Just one night?” The woman smiled peculiarly. 

“Ah…yeah. Just until the storm goes away. I’m kind of in a hurry.” You glanced at your watch and noted it was almost 9pm now. 

“Awe…I see.” The woman sounded almost…disappointed. “Well in that case, you can have Room 1! It’s right next to this one and it’s vacant, like all our other rooms…” 

She laughed off her small joke and extended her hand while she flipped through the guestbook. “Anyways, I’m Hu Tao, proud owner of the Wangsheng Inn.” 

“I’m (Reader)” you responded calmly, giving her a small handshake in return. She smiled when you took her hand, seemingly enjoying the feel of your hand around hers. “(Reader)…that’s a pretty name for a pretty girl.” 

You smiled nervously at the compliment, wondering if she was flirting with you or not. You wouldn’t mind usually, but right now you were tired and just wanted to take a hot shower and lie down in a warm bed. “Yes…thank you. Uhm, may I get the key to my room?”

“Oh! Of course, of course!” She hummed nonchalantly, grabbing a key off the wall. “You must be exhausted, please make sure to enjoy all the luxuries our rooms have to offer.”

She winked at you and handed you the key, its small weight pushing firmly against your palm. You held it securely in your grip, nodding as you let her escort you to the room next door. The rain outside poured heavily still as you dragged your luggage behind you, opening the door to Room 1 and turning the lights on inside. 

Hu Tao soon followed suit behind you as you took in the warm hospitality of the room. Like the office, it was warm and well lit, a comfortable place to stay the night while you waited out the storm. “Here it is, our famous Room 1 suite!” Hu Tao exclaimed jovially. “Does it accomodate to your tastes, ma’am?” 

“It’s lovely for such a bargain price. I am surprised you didn’t charge me any higher,” you hummed in astonishment, setting your luggage down on the floor. 

“Well, no one really drives through these parts. The Wangsheng Inn is off to the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. I have no choice but to make the rooms cheap,” she smiled softly, looking at you. “Though, I was quite surprised to see you tonight. Out in the storm in the middle of nowhere, what exactly were you doing out there…?”

She leaned in close to you, her face just inches away. Your breath hitched and you felt the hairs on your neck stand up on end, a little creeped out by how prodding she was being. 

“Erm…please don’t take this the wrong way but that is my own business to worry about,” you responded firmly. Hu Tao chuckled and took a step back, raising her hands up in surrender. “Right, I apologize. I shouldn’t have been so nosy.” It seemed that no matter what the topic was, Hu Tao always had a smile on her face. Though it was slightly unsettling, you chalked it off as just being her personality. “It’s alright, though…I would like to unpack for a bit. My clothes are soaking wet, so I’d like to change.” 

“Of course ma’am. Let me know if you need anything, my office is right next door.” She grinned and walked out of your room, shutting the door behind her. Now alone, you stood in the middle of the quiet room, taking a deep breath and shaking off the unnerving feeling you felt after encountering the manager. 

‘What an odd woman…’ you thought to yourself, beginning to unload your luggage and dig through your clothes. ‘Quite attractive…and somewhat charming, if not for being so nosy.’

You sighed and pulled out a few clothes from your suitcase, wondering what to wear to bed before hopping into the shower. 

“This should do…” you murmured to yourself, pulling out a pair of pajamas and setting it on the bed. Slowly, you began stripping out of your wet clothes, your skin glistening from the moisture of your clothes, beautiful and refined. As you were busy changing, you suddenly felt as if you were being watched, a feeling of unsettling fear rising in your chest. 

…That can’t be right though. You were alone in your motel room, surely your paranoia was just playing tricks on you. 

You shrugged off the feeling and began taking off your underwear, eager to step into the warm shower and wash away the grime of today. 

In the office room next door, inside the back room where only Hu Tao was allowed to enter, she breathed heavily and watched you through the peephole hidden behind her picture frame, eying the way you slid out of your undergarments rather sensually. On the surface, Hu Tao appeared as a quaint and spry young woman, effortlessly charming with her bright smile and casual demeanor. However, underneath it all; she was just a huge pervert, fingering herself to the sight of you blissfully unaware that you were being peeped on by the innkeeper next door.

‘God…how beautiful,’ Hu Tao thought to herself, unable to contain her sleazy grin as she pressed her fingers deeper against her clit. Her thighs buckled with each forceful motion of her fingers, drooling over the sight of your beautiful body just out on display for her. ‘It’s not often that a pretty lady like her shows up…goodness, I’m a mess.’ 

Hu Tao stifled a whimper as she pushed her fingers further up her cunt, feeling her velvety walls clamp tightly around her digits. She was a complete mess just watching you, her pants pulled down to her knees while she touched herself imagining various fantasies with that stunning body of yours. The loneliness and isolation of running a roadside inn was really catching up to her as she craved to feel another woman against her body.

“Turn around…” Hu Tao whispered to herself, lusting for the sight of seeing your breasts and full body on display. “Oh fuck please turn around…” 

She eyed you hungrily before watching as you turned around to grab a towel, her pussy throbbing at the sight of you exposed before her. 

“Nnnh…damn.” Hu Tao licked her lips and fingered herself faster, watching as you went into the bathroom to shower. She didn’t have a peephole to look in there, but she could imagine the warm water cascading down your body, the room all hot and steamy as your body grew slick from the moisture. Hu Tao couldn’t take it anymore, her thoughts were growing stronger and her body’s needs were becoming more urgent. 

She slid another digit in, closing her eyes and trying to urge herself to release. No matter how hard she thrusted, or added another finger, or ground against her hand it still wasn’t enough. She needed to have the source right in front of her. 

“Well…looks like I’ll be using that spare key after all…” Hu Tao mumbled to herself, sliding her slimy fingers out of her folds and pulling her pants up. 

Turning on the shower head, you let out a sigh of relief when you felt the hot water run down your body. All those hours of being cooped up in your old car left your body cramped, an ache present in your muscles as you stretched them out to get them working again. “My back is killing me…” you grumbled, arching your back to hopefully sort out a few knots that have gathered. You took some soap and lathered your body up, relieved at the sensation of being clean again after so long. 

Your eyes fluttered shut under the shower head, so lost in your pleasant shower that you failed to hear the sound of your bathroom door slowly opening. Each footstep fell onto deaf ears as the shadowy figure in front of the curtain drew closer, raising something in their hand that looked strangely long and pointed.

The shadow continued to stand there, almost as if they were admiring your silhouette showering like a creep. They stood there for a few more moments of silence, before suddenly yanking the shower curtains open, causing you to open your eyes abruptly. 

You let out a scream once you saw the figure in front of you, covering your chest and backing up against the wall. The hardness of the tiled wall hit your back with a cold slam, adrenaline spiking in your veins once you saw who had broken into your room. 

Hu Tao? The innkeeper?! 

She stood there with that same, chilling smile like always. “I figured your body was quite sore after your journey, so why don’t you let me deal with that for you…?”

Her eyes went half lidded, obsession swirling in her eyes before she raised the object in her hand. Your breath hitched and you immediately let out another scream, raising your hands to shield your body and face from the knife you thought was in her hand. What you expected for pain and bloodshed did not come, however. Instead, only the soft chuckle of Hu Tao’s amusement rang out, causing you to hesitantly open your eyes. 

In her hand…wasn’t a knife, no. It was long… but definitely not sharp. Far from it in fact. 

Heat rose to your cheeks and you let out a confused whimper. Was…that a sex toy? 

“Didn’t think you’d be so terrified of a dildo…” Hu Tao giggled, stepping into the shower with you, still fully clothed. You felt adrenaline spike in your chest as she backed you further against the wall, pinning you there. For a few moments, Hu Tao just stood there, admiring your naked form as the hot water dripped down her face, her wet hair sticking to her skin. If not for how utterly psychotic she looked, you had to admit that her hair all wet really added to her physical appeal…

“Oh, looks like you’ve finally quieted down,” She giggled, slowly tracing the tip of the sex toy up your thigh. “Good girl, can’t have you screaming in fear when you should be screaming in pleasure.” 

…Did your pussy just throb? You had no idea what your body was doing right now, a mixture of fear and arousal pooling at your core. “Wh…What are you doing here?” Your voice trembled greatly, unsure if you should fight, flee, or freeze. 

“As the innkeeper of Wangsheng Inn, it is my duty to make sure all our guests’ needs are met,” she licked her lips and leaned closer, her breath tickling your own. “Especially for the pretty women we so rarely get.” 

She giggled and traced the tip of her dildo a little higher, eliciting goosebumps in their wake as it got closer to your core. The steamy bathroom was not making your desire any less stronger, but although you were already trembling in fear, a part of you felt your knees buckle at the curious temptation Hu Tao had to offer…

“Let me show you a good time…” she purred, the lust glistening in her eyes. It was clear she was heavily attracted to you, “I promise I won’t hurt you…if you don’t want me to.” 

You should not have gotten as turned on as you did, but that longing inside you was curious to know just how good this innkeeper really was.  Unconsciously, you found your head tilting downwards in a nod, before Hu Tao immediately moved forward to kiss you. Her tongue immediately darted in between your lips, catching you off guard before sliding her fingers up to cup your already wet cunt. 

Though her fingers were on the smaller side, they were quite lithe and flexible, gently pinching your clit before rubbing tight circles around your heat to get you to relax. You found yourself bucking up against the innkeeper’s fingers, the hot water amplifying your sensitivity while Hu Tao drooled over how your walls spread so easily for her.

“Nnnnh fuck, you feel even better than I expected…” she purred, getting lost in the feeling as she speared your warm folds further apart. “Gettin’ so wet for me already…how naughty. Did you touch yourself in here thinking about me? You can’t be this wet and pathetic~”

You grumbled and shook your head no, causing Hu Tao to grin and degrade you further. 

“Well…you’re gonna be touching yourself a lot more after this. Gonna have this needy pussy craving to be filled by me everyday.” She laughed and pushed her fingers deeper, filling you up while she thrusted at an uneven pace. Hu Tao was getting so wet and pent up already just watching you, and she knew she had to get to the main event soon if she wanted to climax tonight. 

‘Damn…I wanna see her take the toy. She’d be so hot trying to take it.’ Hu Tao bit her bottom lip as her perverted thoughts made their way to her brain. The more she felt her fingers get squeezed by your cunt, the more she longed to see you squeeze the toy she chose for you as well. 

“I think you’re wet enough. Let’s move on to the big one, alright?” She stifled a giggle and slid her slick-covered fingers out of you, not bothering to clean them off in the shower water as she stuck them in her mouth instead. “Mmmmpf.” Her eyes filled with lust as she moaned at the taste of you, suckling her fingers rather lewdly to emphasize how much she was enjoying it. 

She took her sweet time in cleaning off her fingers, her warm tongue sliding over each digit and making direct eye contact with you while you squirmed under her body. How…deranged this woman was being, and yet you couldn’t help but find her mannerisms extremely attractive at this moment. 

“Come on now…let’s get those pretty lips wrapped around the toy…” Hu Tao purred, helping your lower lips slide over the tip before slowly pushing in. “Oh…oh. Look at you taking my cock so well. I picked it thinking of you, you know. I figured a girl like you would prefer more…natural colors.” 

She giggled and drooled at the way her realistic-looking dildo sunk deeper into your hole, making you arch your back against the cold tiled wall and moan. In the closed space of the steamy bathroom, your moans echoed in a rather beautiful way, making the sicko moan too with how much your noises pleased her.

“Ahh…moan like that again…” she whined, pushing the toy deeper and watching as it speared you open, slick juices starting to gather at the handle and coat her hand currently holding it. She bit her lower lip and couldn’t resist the urge to push her pants down to finger herself to the sight of you, throwing her head back as she too, was getting lost in the throes of pleasure. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a girl so close to me like this…” she gasped and began thrusting the faux cock at an even faster pace, “I want to keep you to myself. You can’t leave tomorrow, you simply can’t!” 

You tried to say something in retaliation to that, but all that came out was a choked out moan, her thrusts growing harsher as the toy inside you began making you grind your body against her hand. Hu Tao complied with your silent needs, grinding her palm against your clit and making you bottom out on the cock so easily. 

“Live with me at the inn, yeah? On that old house up on the hill, where it’s just the two of us and the inn in the middle of nowhere…”

Hu Tao moaned as she found herself coming closer to her climax, that same spiraling obsession starting to show in her eyes again. 

“…No one to bother us. No one to interrupt.” 

She groaned and bucked her hips harder against her own hand, her other hand slamming the toy cock brutally against your hips, almost bulldozing with how hard she was thrusting. 

“Just you and me, forever, (Reader).” 

She grinned, a small trickle of drool leaking past her lips before you both came at the same time. Hu Tao’s hands were absolutely coated in both your guys’ cum, as well as a combination of the shower water that still rained on top of you. As you panted and came down from your high, your body collapsed into Hu Tao’s, causing her to hold you up in her arms and pull you in for a desperate kiss.

In the bathroom, the echoey moans and wet slaps ceased, with only the sound of the shower water hitting the floor bringing interruption to the silence. 

“Poor girl…you must be exhausted…” Hu Tao pouted, reaching over to turn off the faucet as you both stood in the bathtub together, enveloped in each other’s embrace. “Let’s get you dried and dressed up, hm? I can’t wait to tell grandfather that I’ve finally found myself a woman.”

She smiled that same, chilling smile, carrying you out of the tub bridal style and making her way out of the bathroom. The storm had long stopped outside the motel, but for you, the effects of the storm will forever linger at the Wangsheng Inn. As you would soon find yourself not staying for one night like you thought, but for every night for the rest of your life. 

[kissitbttr]

dilf!toji giving you a ride back to the party

a small follow up from this !

|

there has been times where you fantasize about hot older men with your friends. all of you agree that they are just better at everything.

you remember this one time when you had a crush on the first older guy you had found attractive. he was your dad’s closest friend. you had always loved admiring him from afar, undressing him with your eyes, imagining how he’d look as he fucks you in your bed. sadly, he’s married. which means, you can’t do anything about it.

one of your friends encouraged you to break it up though, steal him away from his wife in which you reply with a disgusting look on your face. because never in a million years you would stoop that low.

no guys ever came close as your dad’s best friend after that. dismissing every single college guys who tried to get into your pants, tossing every written numbers on a paper from them into a trash can. your ex was the only exception though. why? because he was two years older than you. that counts for something, right?

until now.

you sit rather quiet nervously in the passenger’s seat. fingers drumming slightly against your thick thighs, stealing glances every now and then at the handsome stranger who offered you a ride before,

and boy, does he look so hot doing it.

he leans comfortably against the seat with one hand on the wheel while the other perched on his thigh. looking like a perfect dream

dear god, please do not make me wet tonight

“thank you for the food, sir. i love it” you give him a smile, shoving another fry into your mouth. “i’m starving”

toji cranes his neck to look at you, mirroring your smile. “i thought i told you to call me toji?”

“oh yeah! sorry, i forgot!” you let out a nervous giggle, finger toying with the skirt of your dress. discreetly pulling it down further since it keeps riding up,

“i didn’t catch your name though. mind telling me?” he starts, putting his focus back on the road while taking a turn,

“i’m y/n” you respond to the beautiful dark haired man,

“pretty name for a pretty girl” he compliments, grinning widely at you. chuckling after seeing you blush. “still in college?”

you nod. “mhmm!”

“you like it?”

“pft! as if!” you roll your eyes, making him laugh at your comment. “college is insanity. too much work, but the parties help”

“i bet” he replies, head shaking. “is it like a regular thing?”

“kind of. we always do it once a week, or twice…? can’t exactly count. the frats usually the one who held it, so I can’t really tell” you shrug your shoulders, eyes looking over to the window. “what about you, sir-toji?”

he snorts, running his fingers over his hair and you almost let out a soft gasp.“oh I don’t party, sweetheart. i’m too old for that.”

“can’t be that old” you giggle, reaching out to poke his side with a finger. you don’t know where that confidence comes from, could be from alcohol,

toji raises an eyebrow at the sudden touch, but makes no comment. “i’m pushing 40, so definitely old” he smirks at you,

40..?

oh…

a look of surprise is taking over your face. “really?” you see him nod again in confirmation. “you don’t look like you’re that old”

“how old did you think i am?”

“hmm, 27?”

he barks a laugh, and you never heard something so pretty. “now you’re just being polite, sweetheart”

god, he really is making you swoon with all the terms of endearment . you wonder if he’s married or taken,

“are you single?”

he’s taken aback at the question, eyebrow raising. “why, want to take me out on a date?”

giggling, you toss a hair behind your shoulder before shrugging it. shifting your body to completely facing him now. “maybeee”

toji only laughs at your confidence. the small pouty look you’re giving just makes him want to give you a peck on the lips. maybe two.

you’re so damn cute, he’d give you that.

“yes, i am. divorced about two years ago.”

“oh… what happened? if you don’t mind me asking.”

he shrugs like it’s nothing. “didn’t work out. the whole marriage was draining me. but i got a little boy who i love dearly and would tear down the whole fucking sky for”

he’s got a kid?! holyshit,

“how old is he?”

“just turned two last month” he smiles at the thought of his little megumi sleeping soundly back home. “how about you, sweetheart? got marriage written down on your plan?”

“oh of course! it’s definitely on my bucket list!” you sigh dreamily at the thought of you walking down the aisle. “not any time soon though! i like being like this for a moment”

“good. you enjoy that while it lasts.” he advises. “hate to overstep, but what’s the deal with your ex before?”

hearing that makes your smile drop and body slouch. eyes dropping down to your lap. “oh..”

toji senses that bubbly personality of your is wearing off soon as he mentions that, which causes him to panic. “shit, I didn’t mean to make you sad, darling. sorry. you don’t have to explain”

you shake your head, clearing your throat. “no, no! it’s fine it was just—“ you cut yourself with a sad sigh. “he wanted.. to have sex with me at the party but.. i didn’t want to.. because we were drunk! and it wouldn’t be right for us to do it while we’re drunk, right?! so i told him no… over and over and — he didn’t take it well so… he called me a boring bitch and broke it off..”

his eyebrows deepening hearing that, hand around the wheel tighten at the thought of some lowlife punk trying to force himself at a sweet girl like you to have sex,

“you fucking with me?” his tone rising, seeing you shake your head as a no. “my god that’s not— sweetheart, you know that it was not your fault right? was that why you looked so sad? because you thought that you should’ve gave him what he wanted?”

you toy with the hem of your skirt, still looking down before nodding. “…yes.. because maybe then he wouldn’t be mad”

“no.. oh god, no.. don’t you ever, ever think that. what you did was the right thing, baby. you should be proud for standing up to yourself, you know that?”

slowly you look up to him, seeing his genuine eyes looking into yours. “okay..”

but toji doesn’t buy that, instead he shakes his head. “no, i want to hear you say it, come on. say ‘i did the right thing’”

a smile slowly creeps up to your face while your cheeks are heating up. “tojiii” you whine,

he smiles back at you, “come on. say it”

“i—i did the right thing” you repeat slowly,

“good girl” he praises, and that almost makes your body goes slump and your thighs to squeeze together,

when was the last time someone called you that?

throughout the ride, you and toji talk a lot about each other. from a-z. and you can’t help but admit how refreshing it is to finally have someone to talk to like this. it was a non-stop conversation, accompanied by the soft tunes playing in the background—thanks to your choice of music—

you may not notice this but toji is purposely taking the long way just so the conversation stays a bit longer,hoping you don’t realize what he’s doing. it’s not like you would actually complain, you enjoy his company.

despite your age, toji finds you to be the most interesting woman he has ever met. the way you talk freely and articulate words when you speak to him is so attractive. he loves a woman who has her own opinion on everything and you had just shown him that.

you’re smart, witty, have a great sense of humor and not to mention,

really fucking gorgeous.

toji feels like a downright pervert when he tries to sneak a glance at your soft plump thighs every second. imagining how they would look around his head. or the fat of your tits when you bounce on his cock, giving him the perfect view. and your lips,

god, your pink. glossy . lips.

“is this the place?” he pulls up in front of the big frat house where he can see a few kids standing on the porch, typical red solo cups in their hands. his eyes carefully observe the scene before him. “shit, they’re really getting shit faced huh?”

you laugh, looking over where one kid had puked all over the lawn making you grimace. “they’re not all like that everyday”

“hmm sure, sweetheart” he rolls his eyes, but smile anyways. “be careful now, yeah? you got my number saved?”

nodding, you take one good look at him before unbuckling your seatbelt. “yup! thank you for the ride, toji. you’re a real life saver!”

“don’t mention it. keep an eye out on any one who wants to try something with you. especially your ex. let me know if he’s bothering you, i’ll come quickly as i can” he informs,

your heart feels like its about to jump out of your chest, “i will, thanks again and oh! wait— can i … see you again?”

he quirks an eyebrow at that, a cocky smirk stretches upon his pretty lips causing you to glance down at it,

“you want to?” his finger and thumb softly tapping against the wheel

“i do” you reply quickly, biting down on your lower lip as your hand fiddle against the handle of his car door. “this can’t be the last time, right?”

no, of course not he thinks. because he wants to see you too. if not more than you want to see him. might as well take you out on a date, or a stroll. anything. as long as he gets to see that pretty face of yours longer than just an hour.

“you got it, sweetheart. keep a look out for a text from me, then yeah?” his hand then reach our to grab your other one, giving a soft kiss on the knuckles while maintaining an eye contact with you,

you let out a shaky breathe with a small cute smile as he rubs his thumb against your skin. before you can even move your hand to open the door, he does it for you. shooting you another smile of his.

you grab your purse and climb out of the vehicle, waving your hand at him. “good night , toji”

“goodnight, y/n. i’ll see you very soon” he winks before you close the door and see himself drive off,

you stand there for a while with a bright smile on your face that never seems to leave,

you really can’t wait to see him again

—

next part, first date?👀

a/n: also, planning to make this into a series <3

taglist:

@fushipurro

@crocodilethesir

@chilichopsticks

@trentknd

@tojis-ball-sack

@hellokittyloverrxox

@xavlyzn

[andypantsx3]

DEVIL IN THE DARK : TODOROKI TOUYA x READER

SUMMARY: There is no price you will not pay for revenge—and a demon comes to collect. NOTES: First Prince of Hell Touya, gender neutral Reader, revenge, blood, slight body horror, SFW, 1.9k. I did not actually plan a proper Halloween fic this year so here you go!

It's cold on the crossroads, an icy wind whipping along the pavement, rustling in the trees. It sounds like hundreds of whispers in the dark, though you know the stretch of road around you is empty for miles.

That's the only way to summon the demon you're looking for—the only way they say he will answer. He is too clever to appear where he may be at a disadvantage.

Against one lone human, demon hunter though you may be, he stands every chance. Against you in particular, he fares even better. You are not the strongest in the League, were never the best in your class at the academy. You were more a strategist than a warrior, better with a pen than your regulation silver knife.

Your only certain way out is if the demon you're looking for chooses not to appear—or if his interest is adequately piqued by the deal you're offering. You do not know enough to be certain his attention will be assured.

Despite yourself, you take a breath and scratch his sigil in the dirt at the side of the road. It had taken you years to find, hidden by the Council after losing too many hunters eager to prove themselves against this specific demon.

But you are out for a very particular revenge. You would have searched your whole life if that is what it would have taken.

Nothing happens at first, as the final stroke of his sigil settles into the dirt. You wonder if he's chosen not to come.

But then, slowly, the wind dies down. The rustle of the trees grows softer, then still. The scant slivers of moonlight pool strangely in the road, like liquid silver dripping along the grooves of pavement. The wind trails off into a breeze, then the softest, sweetest hint of feeling, like the touch of a breath at your shoulder.

—A breath at your shoulder.

You jump, reeling sideways at the exhale across your skin. You barely choke down a scream when you catch sight of the man waiting behind you.

He's taller than you expected, long and lean. His looks are also surprisingly human, save for the twisting horns curling out of the inky black of his hair, and the patchwork of purpling burns over his skin, left by a magic you don't even want to contemplate.

He's shockingly handsome, though, under the burns, his features perfect, careful, delicate—almost angelic. His mouth is a soft, sensuous curl, at odds with the hard, exacting blue of his gaze. He is watching you like a cat tracking a bug skittering across the floor, and every particle in your body screams with the desire to flee.

You plant your feet firmly in the dirt instead, trying to steel your nerves. But the First Prince of Hell's mouth lifts, a derisive twist of amusement.

"Your kind might be fooled," he says, his voice a low drawl. "But I can hear your heartbeat, human."

As if on cue, you can feel your heartbeat stutter and skip. But still you still your shaking fingers against your thigh. This is what you have worked for; you have come with a plan.

"Prince Touya," you acknowledge him, willing yourself to sound calm. "I am here to make a deal."

A sardonic eyebrow lifts as his eyes flick meaningfully to the knife at your hip, then back up to your face. "A hunter looking to bargain with a demon?"

You force yourself to look into the burning cerulean of his eyes, twin points of eerie blue in the dim. "Yes."

Touya does not look even mildly interested. "Let me guess, you want me to hold still while you stab."

You certainly do, and Touya smirks when your expression gives you away. But there is one thing you want more than to prove your worth upon a demon prince. One thing you are certain you can only get from him.

"I want you to lure your father out," you grit your teeth, spitting the words out quickly before you lose your nerve.

Prince Touya visibly pauses, expression icing over. The shadows around you seem to deepen, and a cloud draws across the moon, casting you into an even deeper dark. A shiver crawls down your spine.

"My father," he spits out, his tone blacker than the night.

You force yourself to nod. All the legends say there is no love lost between the First Prince and the King of Hell, detailing their many clashes across the eons, and the destruction that followed in their wake. You only hope that they have not found it within themselves to make amends in the five hundred or so years since the most recent accounts were written.

"And what would a little nothing demon hunter do with the King of Hell?" Prince Touya demands, taking a step closer. He moves sinuously, like a curl of mist. "Your blade bears not even a drop of demon's blood—I can smell it."

It is true, you have never killed a demon. "It would not be me. I need you to lure him into the League's trap. And there will be others, many hunters equal to the task."

Prince Touya studies you for a long moment, those eyes glimmering in the dark. "The League's gotten more underhanded since I encountered you last. And what would I get out of this deal?"

"The throne of Hell," you say. "The death of your enemy."

Touya steps closer, near enough that you can feel the heat of him, smell the magic of Hell on him. He smells heady and dark, rich like cinnamon and smoke. His proximity makes your blood race.

"And this trap that's going spring closed will exclude me, will it?" he asks. There's a little rasp on the edge of his voice, you notice.

It wouldn't, and you had hoped the prince would not think to ask it. But he has not survived millennia being stupid.

Your non-answer is enough for him, and he snorts as he walks a wide circle around you. In the silence of the night you can clearly hear the crunch of his boots in the dirt. You stand stock-still and pretend you are not unnerved by his attention, by the way he paces with the slow, unhurried gait of a predator.

"This trap of yours," he says finally, "Who's devised it?"

You feel him pass behind your back. "I did."

"You who have never killed a demon," he says drily.

You try to quell your temper, knowing you would not survive it were you to raise his. "Not directly."

Prince Touya's grin is a wicked thing as he stops in front of you, catching your eye. It is a touch too wide, a touch too pleased. His teeth are too white, canines too sharp.

"I thought hunters were supposed to be honorable," he says, tone gloating.

Many things were supposed to be that weren't. Your family was supposed to be alive, for one. But the King of Hell had seen to that, and now nothing was as it should have been.

"I thought demons were supposed to crave deals," you reply. A non answer.

Touya circles behind you again, passing close enough that your skin prickles.

"I want something else," he says finally, clearly enjoying the way it makes you stiffen. "The death of my father is something I can do myself. I'll need more if I'm to change my mind."

"What else do you want?" you ask.

Prince Touya stops in front of you again, too close for comfort. He is warm, too warm. His handsome face twists in another grin.

"A blood oath," he says, leaning down to catch your gaze.

A streak of fear tears down your gut. A blood oath would bind you to him, something he could easily leverage to escape what you had planned. It would ensure you could never raise a hand against him, would be compelled to obey him were he to come calling.

And demons always, always came calling.

Good sense told you to refuse, but of course good sense had told you never to come here in the first place. The First Prince's demise was a hoped-for bonus, but the King of Hell was who you were really after. You had all but already made up your mind.

In the end, there is only one choice to be made.

"Fine," you accept, letting a slow breath out. Your hand falls to your belt for your silver knife, unstrapping it and drawing it across your palm before you can talk yourself out of it.

Touya's eyes track the well of blood, glinting, a twinge of delight passing across his beautiful features. He raises a black claw and pricks his own palm open, pressing his hand to yours, fingers closing over you.

You nearly startle out of your skin at the feeling of those long fingers on your skin, the careful rasp of his claws over your wrist. His hold on you helps steady you when you realize his blood is not pooling the same way as yours—it’s moving, sliding as if of its own volition into the cut on your palm, seeping inside you as your own continues to pour out.

You have to close your eyes to keep from feeling sick.

There's a sweep of heat through your veins as he settles deeper into your bloodstream, warming you like a shot of whiskey. It settles into something almost pleasant, then disappears, as if growing dormant within you. And then it’s over. 

And then it’s done.

Your eyes blink back open when you feel Touya’s hand shift yours in his grip, and then he raises your hand to his mouth, licking across your palm. It’s another shock of warmth, his mouth surprisingly soft, gentle against your injury. His long eyelashes flutter shut as he tastes you, and it's all you can do to hold still again, not to curl away in disgust or embarrassment—or anything else.

Touya's eyes glow brighter when he raises them to your face again, and a pleased smile curls his mouth.

"Just as sweet as you look," he purrs, and you prickle. But disturbingly, he genuinely seems to mean it, tongue passing across his bottom lip to sweep up more of the taste of you.

Something unsettled churns in your gut.

You wonder if you haven’t gotten yourself into something deeper than you’d understood.

But Touya is already moving, pressing a wry kiss to your palm in a horrible mockery of intimacy. Then he steps away, leaving you feeling strangely cold.

"A pleasure doing business with you, little hunter," he tells you, as a scant breeze begins to pick up at your feet again. A few leaves skitter across the pavement, almost deafening against the prior silence.

The first glimmer of moonlight almost blinds you as the clouds move again, the wind starting back up. The dim pools and gathers around Prince Touya as he melds back into the dark, stepping back as if into a patch of shadow.

"I'll be seeing you very soon," he promises, his voice growing soft and low. 

You don’t doubt it, and another shiver creeps down your spine. But it’s too late to go back now, and Touya knows it too.

The last thing you see before he disappears is that white smile in the dark—before you're left alone with the weight of the decision you've just made. And the cost of your revenge.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Ẁ̴̧̼̟͕̱̜̞͈̩̱̤̺̖̗̌̌̓͒̓͂̇ͅò̸̟̯͂̍̀̈́̂̚ͅǘ̷̢̧͈̦͙̖̼̟̮̯̝͎̒̈́͜ͅļ̴̮̲͈̤̲̣̊̈́̎̃͆̈͆̔͆̑̇̅̋d̷̢̛͈̲̳͕̮̟͍̬͍̪͖̈̄̓̇n̵̳̫̹̥̼̄̊̽͜'̶̢̛̳̘̗͔̯̖̥̝̙̥̲͍̩̝̍̒̎̃̑̅͊̂͊͝t̷̨̧͉̫̠̻͚̣͉͖͐̊̊̀̈́ ̵̦̬̫͐͐͊͑̆̓͆̏̄͆̇́̚͘͠Y̷̨̢̡̱͚̼͚̰̠̱̤̖͍̑͊̉̽́ͅơ̶̡̦̫̬̪̯͎̹̈̍̊̇͛̅̚̚ü̷̜̞͇̳̯̯̺͎̦̠͈͕͕͎̑͒̍̌̅͛́͌̅̃̽̕͝ ̶̡̝͙̟͖̠̯̹̤͖̣̎̋̄͐̂̚͠L̸̠̞͕̳͖̥̩͙̬̰͈̱̩̳̍i̸̫͙̍́̏̎̓͊̌͑ͅk̶̩̞͈̖͔̓̏͘ẻ̶͈̱͇̪̺̬̑̈̂̑̾̐͐̿̌͜?̷̧̭̖̺̻͖̣̖̺̻͂͝

Original Post Storm

The water was slow to rise.

That didn't mean that it wasn't a threat, but it was a slow one. The rain was much worse. Burning upon contact with skin, the rain poured down on Gotham, and left Damian and Grayson isolated from the rest of the family. Civilians scattered like rats under the burning rain, hiding under awnings that were already starting to dissolve and in buildings if they were lucky.

Grayson had taken the initiative to steal a few umbrellas that they used to jump from roof overhang to overhang, the flimsy fabric barely protecting them in the moments under open sky.

Damian tried both his coms again, then his phone. Only static remained. "There's still no signal. Richard, we need to hurry back to the Manor; if Father is in danger--"

"We wouldn't be able to make it," Grayson said, eyeing the streets. Lazarus water bubbled from the storm drains, flooding the roads. They hurried on. "Our tires would melt before we could get halfway to Bristole. There's a safehouse nearby where we can regroup--"

"Richard!" It was hard to see through the glowing rain, but just beyond the building they were hiding under was- "There's a break in the rain in Robinson Park." While the flood was lapping at the grass, not a speck of water fell over the park.

Richard frowned. "That's suspicious."

Damian and Richard, speckled with burns, made their way through the eerie silence that had settled over Robinson Park. Not a sound could be heard inside the park, like the world had gone silent. No other people had made it here yet, and there were no animals around, Damian noticed with a pang of guilt.

Then... a laugh.

His hands quickly found the knives tucked away on his body. "Who's there!?" Damian demanded despite Richard's protests that it could be a civilian. It laughed again with that same distorted quality that Danyal's voice gained in the Pit. "Show yourself."

"I must say! I didn't think you'd make it this far." Behind them floated... a woman. A girl, younger than Damian, yet she looked just like the monster pretending to be Danyal. She smirked. "You're very stubborn."

"Who are you?" Why does she look like-

"Just a friend!" She quickly reassured. "You could say I'm... invested in the continued survival of Gotham."

"So, you know what's happening?"

"I know what's happening, why it's happening, and what you can do to stop it." She floated onto her back, the picture of faked relaxation. "Though, at the moment, I'm not particularly inclined to spill. Sorry."

Damian's grip tightened on his knives. "If you know how to stop this, then tell us," he demanded, his voice laced with frustration and urgency.

The girl—this eerie mimic of Danyal—rolled her eyes playfully, kicking her feet as she floated in the air. "Impatient, aren't we? But where’s the fun in just handing over all the answers? You’re on the right track, though. Keep going, and maybe you’ll figure it out."

"Enough games!" Richard snapped, stepping forward, his fists clenched. "This city is drowning—people are going to die! If you can help, then help us!"

The girl’s smile didn’t waver, but something in her eyes hardened. "Oh, I am helping. You just don’t realize it yet." She flipped upright, hovering just above the ground now, her gaze locking onto Damian's. "You see, big brother, this isn’t just about you or me. This is about Danyal—he’s lost, confused. And unless you do something, he’ll destroy everything."

Damian stiffened at the word "brother," his mind racing. "You’re lying. Danyal is—"

"More than the Danyal you knew," she finished for him, her voice softening with something like sympathy. "He’s changed. Did your mummy ever tell you that she put him in the Lazarus Pit your grandfather has?" Damian could feel Richard's questioning gaze. "No, she probably didn't. Not after he never resurfaced."

"Then... that's the real Danyal?" Damian asked quietly.

She shrugged. "As real as he can be. But he's not the one you knew. Older. Younger. The Pit did something to him, something that made him… different. More powerful, more dangerous."

Richard exchanged a wary glance with Damian. "If that’s true, then why are you here? What do you want from us?"

The girl chuckled, floating closer. "I’m here to make sure you survive this. After all, if you die too soon, the story ends, and we can’t have that, can we?" She circled around them, her movements languid, almost lazy. "The city will return to normal once Danyal gets what he wants. And what he wants, dear friend, is you." She reached out to poke his nose, but Damian slapped her hand away.

Damian’s eyes narrowed. "Why are you helping us? What do you gain?"

She paused, considering the question, before shrugging lightly. "Let’s just say I have a vested interest in keeping the balance. I’m not your enemy, Damian. I’m just… an observer. A guide, if you will."

The rain continued to pour just beyond the borders of the park, the glowing drops hissing as they hit the ground. Damian could feel the heat from the Lazarus Waters creeping closer, the edge of the park growing dim and distorted.

"You said you know how to stop this," Damian pressed. "What do we need to do?"

The girl smiled, a wicked gleam in her eye. "First, you’ll need to survive. The Lazarus Waters will burn you alive if you don’t take precautions. Deeper in the park, you’ll find Blood Blossoms. They are an extinct plant that has power over the undead... and will prevent the water from hurting you. Eat them—they’ll protect you from the worst of it."

Richard frowned. "Why should we trust you."

She shrugged again. "Trust me, mistrust me. It's up to you. But the longer you stand here arguing, the closer those waters get, and the sooner you’ll be dead." She pointed toward the heart of the park. "The Blood Blossoms grow there. Hurry, before it’s too late."

Damian hesitated; all of his training screamed at him not to trust her. But she was right. They really didn't have a choice. With a curt nod to Richard, they turned and sprinted deeper into the park, the eerie silence swallowing their footsteps.

As they disappeared into the shadows, the girl—Dani—hovered in place, watching them go. Her playful demeanor faded, replaced by something darker, more serious.

"Danny," she whispered to herself, a hint of sadness in her voice. "I hope you know what you're doing, Damian Al Ghul. I hope you know what you need to do to save him."

With a final glance at the retreating figures, she dissolved into the night, her form flickering out of existence as the rain continued to pour down on the drowning city.

[nymphea0]

Until Death My Love

Part 4 (END).

Yandere husband x Wife Reader

Warning : mention of fire, chase scenes, and some mature content, mention of sleeping drug.

Please read the warning before you start to reading this story, might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. I think to make a special chapter what do you think? Should i make it?. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my story,love.- Neva🦋🦋

Word Count Around : 1679 Word

Story Part 1 : Until Death My Love

Story Part 2 : Until Death My Love

Story Part 3 : Until Death My Love

.

.

.

'Brooklyn, New York.'

It's been a month since you ran away from your house and your husband.

You admit that you are very scared, you believe all of Roana's words that said that Alex, your husband, would kill you because you were caught entering his secret room.

You always knew that Alex loved you very much, but you didn't know that he had even noticed you during school, somehow you felt like he was stalking you behind his friendly smile.

Picture of yourself that were taken secretly, the body of someone who was quite familiar with you. You can't believe that Alex did that, your husband who you always thought was a normal man who was successful working as a coal company CEO turned out to be just a disguise as a mafia associate, you feel like he has deceived you.

.

.

This morning you will start your work as a library cleaning staff in the corner of Brooklyn, New York.

The city is quite crowded, the population is quite dense, and it is very easy to find work here. While cleaning the library bookshelves, sometimes you think about going back to Alex, your husband, maybe if you didn't follow Roana's words, you might be relaxing at home right now.

But you are not ready for the risk of what Alex will do if he finds out that you know his little secret.

But the rice has become porridge, you can't turn back what has happened.

The Graze Library, or more like an old bookstore, is deserted and the salary you get is not that big, but at least it is enough to support yourself.

.

It's been 1 month and 3 weeks that you have been in Brooklyn, you always come home late, because your working hours start from morning to noon, then continue with the evening until 9 pm.

Through the wet asphalt cobblestone roads due to the rain, you don't know .... since when you feel like someone is watching you.

Only the sound of rats and your footsteps can be heard on the quiet streets towards your shabby and cheap apartment.

'Tap'

'Tap'

'Tap'

Trying to avoid puddles of water that could make your shoes wet.

Just as you arrive in front of the door of your apartment building, you hear the sound of a trash can falling.

Either because you are paranoid or you are too shocked, you immediately look back only to see there is only a rat and a trash can that has fallen.

'Cit'

'cit'

'cit'

Sighing in relief that it was just a sewer rat busy looking for food.

Opening the door of the apartment building and entering the building. Walking slowly while greeting the male receptionist who is busy playing with his cellphone with a friendly smile.

Entering the elevator slowly, and pressing the button for the 6th floor.

'Ting'

The elevator door opens, you walk slowly in the dim hallway of this cheap apartment building. Even though this building has 8 floors, you can't help but feel afraid to live in this building.

This building rents out apartments at a cheap price, because this building has entered the criteria for an unsuitable building. But what can you do if you only have a little money, no one will rent an apartment building for 45$ for a whole year.

Stopping in front of a wooden door with peeling paint, unlocking the door and entering your small apartment.

'Krieet'

Even the sound from the door was more terrifying than your financial condition.

After making sure the door was locked, you walked tiredly to the leather sofa that was even torn to shreds. That night you slept so soundly that you didn't even notice the bouquet of flowers in your bedroom.

.

.

That morning ... you couldn't help but worry about what you saw, a bouquet of primroses, fresh flowers tied with a white ribbon.

Looking around the apartment you couldn't help but worry who would even dare to enter someone else's house without the owner's permission?

Primrose or people call it primula flower, a flower with various colors.... has a fairly romantic philosophy, namely passion, love and loyalty.

Who in this world even dares to give it in someone's bedroom? Does the person who gave this intend to seduce you?.

You really want to throw away the flower, but your heart says otherwise, the flower is too beautiful to be thrown in the trash.

.

That afternoon you worked as usual, you rested and ate a chocolate bar as a filler for your stomach that was screaming for food.

Sitting relaxing under a willow tree, the graze library is on the corner of our Brooklyn, close to the forests. Looking at the river rippling slowly following the flow of the ships that passed by.

After resting, you continued working, tonight you came home above 9 o'clock! . You didn't know that the person who was supposed to be on the night shift today was playing truant and you had no choice but to replace him at work.

It was past 12 midnight, midnight .... a pretty good night for people who want to commit crimes.

That night, Aunt Irene, the old woman who slept in the library said to spend the night in the library, it's not good for a young woman like you to go out in the middle of the day.

But you are stubborn, you want to sleep soundly in your dusty room.

.

With strong determination you walk faster than usual, passing the willow trees, only accompanied by the sound of mice and also dim street lights.

You feel very watched, you feel like someone is watching you.

Then at the end of the road, you see so many people gathered in front of your apartment building, there you see a beam of fire that shoots wildly in your apartment building.

With quick steps you head towards the crowd. Ask one of the random people there

"Excuse me, sorry to bother you, why is this building on fire?"

"Miss, are you a resident of this building? If so, it's too bad, a few hours ago there were some people in black suits who forcibly bombed this building, who knows what their motives were, but the police and security forces are still investigating it"

You could only be pensive hearing that, walking unsteadily to the people who were evacuating, you looked around your apartment building which was crowded with people, many firefighters were busy putting out the fire.

You looked sadly at your shabby apartment building that had been completely devoured by fire.

Where will you sleep tonight. Planning to go back to the library only to stop frozen.

There you saw Alex, standing not far from you, looking at you with longing eyes.

You panicked with 1001 ways to avoid danger, you ran away from Alex, who of course he chased you.

.

.

Running as hard as you could down the muddy cobblestone streets of Brooklyn was not an easy thing.

You could hear Alex calling your name. You just keep running and running, you can hear clearly, Alex is chasing you with his men.

Are you going to die? Does Alex want to kill you because you know his little secret.

Your breath is very heavy, you can feel that your heart is beating as fast as you are pumping adrenaline to get away from Alex, only to feel your hand being pulled so hard by Alex, your husband!.

"Caught you, my love"

Alex wraps one arm around your waist, the other holds your chin.

"Are you satisfied hmm? Is my love satisfied playing running around?"

You don't know what to do, you can only be silent and frozen.

"Why my dear? Why did you leave me? Did I do something wrong?"

"Answer me love?!".

Alex with his hands that are holding your chin tighter, stares into your eyes sharply.

With a very deep longing and passion, Alex kissed your lips very aggressively, the kiss was full of longing, and thirsty for touch. His lips claimed your lips.

His tongue played with yours, releasing your wild kisses, Alex looked at you who was in his arms.

His leather-gloved hand touched your lips which were swollen from Alex's kiss.

You don't know why but slowly but surely you feel your body limp in Alex's arms.

Damn, you realized too late that Alex slipped sleeping pills into your previous kiss.

Your vision blurred, you could only see Alex smirking at you, and finally you fell unconscious in Alex's arms.

.

.

Alex, your husband, he has been watching you his little wife for 1 month, letting you live in this shabby apartment, he really wants to pick you up by force and shower you with luxury and not poverty, how can his love live in poverty, he is not willing.

Following his father's advice, Alex let you enjoy your simple life.

In a shabby and old apartment, working in a library that was even deserted, always eating instant food.

His heart ached so much, seeing his wife live so miserably, but he had to restrain himself, just think of this as a lesson for yourself that you can't live without him, his wife who is so weak and needs protection so much, his stray cat who really likes to find trouble.

His heart ached even more when you smiled kindly at the male receptionist whose face wasn't even that big, how dare you, his little wife, make him jealous, so he would burn down that shabby apartment, he had enough of restraining himself, he had enough of seeing you live in poverty.

Alex looked at you who was currently sleeping soundly in Alex's mansion in New York City.

You were sleeping very peacefully, wearing only his shirt, one of your hands was tied by gold-colored handcuffs combined with a small chain wrapped around the handcuffs.

Walking slowly but surely, Alex sat beside you who was sleeping, brushing your hair that covered your face from his view.

Gently stroking your face, kissing your forehead lovingly, then your cheek, then your nape, until biting your neck affectionately which currently left a love bite mark.

That night your eyes opened, Alex claimed you as his, claiming his very naughty wife, that night, only witnessed by the moonlight shining through the window, illuminating 2 people who were busy wrestling in bed in the pleasures of the world.

.

.

How many hours is it? You don't know what time it is, Alex your husband, busy making love to you, busy moaning erotically in your ear.

Busy making sure you are pregnant with his child. Alex, a man who always holds back, he doesn't hold back tonight.

With his possessions united with you, and you who can no longer think rationally, can only follow the rhythm of your husband's game.

That night Alex made love to you like an animal in mating season, very brutal and did not give you a break to breathe.

"Haah .... must make you pregnant yeah ?? My darling must be pregnant ... nghh that way .... you will not run away from me anymore"

Alex held your body that was already limp under his body, kissing your lips passionately Alex said.

"Rest my love, very naughty, my very naughty wife ahh you make me crazy about you my darling, don't expect you can get away from me"

"Even until death ...you are mine..love"

.

.

.

*Source image: pinterest

©️Nymphea0 2024 , OG story . Project Dark Romance Story 1.

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions , Always be good people Dear. Much love , Neva🦋🦋.

@snowflakes666 @athena-roy @ayoulookingfine @sirenetheblogger @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr

[woso-dreamzzz]

Second Time's The Charm VI

Alexia Putellas x Reader

*Smut: Dom!R, Sub Alexia, Top!Alexia, Bottom!R, Leash and Collar, Oral, Nipple Play, Strap-on, Strap-on Riding, Thigh Riding, Anal Fingering*

Summary: You take control

Having Alexia on her knees for you is not unusual.

It's actually quite common.

She looks up at you with this wide eyes, mouth hanging slightly open with no thoughts but how to please you.

Usually, that is.

Right now, you can tell she's not settled well.

You hadn't been expecting it in the slightest. You had taken a long shift at the hospital last night and come straight from there to your office at the Barcelona training grounds to go through some paperwork.

That's when Alexia came in like a whirlwind, locking the door behind her and getting on her knees for you behind your desk.

She's not looking up at you like usual. She's not even looking at you at all. Her forehead is pressed against your thigh as you stare down at her in shock.

"Ale?" You say softly," Ale, baby, what's wrong?"

It's not hard to get Alexia on her knees at home. She's more than happy to sit there all day if you want but this is the first time she's done it at work.

You hear a soft sniffle.

Ordinarily, you'd coax her out of hiding but she's crying and you know she hates letting you see her cry.

So, you let her hide her face away against your leg as she sits on her knees while you gently thread your fingers through her scalp.

"It's okay, baby," You say every so often," It's okay. I'm here. Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"My knee," She chokes out and you freeze.

You slip into doctor mode very quickly.

Alexia wouldn't be on her knees now if she was in pain. She knew better than that and you received no texts from the staff earlier that said she had any discomfort.

"Your knee? Ale, what's wrong with your knee?"

"I don't know!" She still hasn't looked at you but that's okay. "What if it never goes back to normal?!"

It's been a rocky road for Alexia's injury. You knew this but you also knew it had healed up well. You knew that this wasn't a physical thing. It was purely psychological.

"You scored in the Champion's League Final on that knee," You remind her gently, carding your fingers through her hair," You're all healed up, baby. What's really going on?"

Alexia was trusting her knee again, you knew that. For her to be overthinking it now just means that something else is going on.

She draws in a shuddering breath and finally looks up at you, eyes sparkling with tears.

"I...Amor, I..."

"What is it, baby? You can tell me."

Her hands bunch up into fists on her lap. "I'm so overwhelmed! Do that Alexia, do this Alexia. Captain Alexia. Player Alexia. Barcelona. Spain. Olympics."

The words tumble out of her now and you lightly tug on her hair.

She falls silent immediately, staring up at you again as you take a tissue to mop up her face.

"Do you need someone else to be in charge for a bit?"

She nods.

"In what way, Ale?" You ask.

You've settled Alexia like this before. You knew all the inner workings of her brain but, still, there's two ways you could go.

One was the domestic route. You could send her home with a list of mindless tasks to complete. Do the dishwasher. Fold the laundry. That kind of mindless repetition of tasks to take her mind away from football.

The other was the sexual route. You were wary about that though. Only Alexia knew if she was in the right headspace for that. If she wanted it like that, she'd have to tell you.

You had no problem giving it to her if that's what she wanted but she'd have to make it clear to you that that is what she craved.

"I..."

"Think about it," You say, bringing her head back to rest against your thigh," I've still got work to do so take all the time you need."

So, Alexia sits on her knees for you as you complete your paperwork.

You know her mind's made up there, just by the way her breathing has evened out and the way she leans more heavily against your leg.

"Can you let me fuck you, amor?" She asks," Please?"

"Go home, Alexia."

"Wha-"

"And I want you to go in the toy drawer and decide what you want us to use tonight." You give her clear orders, already working to settle her for what you know will be a long night. "I want you to think about what you want to get out of tonight so you can tell me when I get home. I've still got work to do."

She nods, shakily getting up. She lingers at your side for a moment before," Can I have a kiss first, please?"

"Of course, baby. You're so good for asking."

Already tension leaks out of her frame as you pull her in for a kiss.

You don't try to drag it out but you don't rush through your work either. It would be a disservice to the other players and to Alexia.

She needs this time to decompress on her own, to go through her feelings even as she works through the instructions you'd given her.

You stretch as you get out of your car, walking up the stairs to the house and unlocking the door.

"Alexia!" You call out," I'm home!"

You don't expect an answer.

You don't get one.

You hang up your coat and settle down on the sofa.

Alexia kneels at your feet and finally, she's looking at you like how she usually does.

Her pouty lips are parted in a dazed smile and her eyes glisten with desire rather than tears. Her hands lay resting on her legs though you see them twitch a little as you unbutton the top of your shirt.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Alexia? You're in the right space?"

She nods. "Yes."

"Do you remember your colour system?"

"Yes."

"Tell me."

"Green for continue. Yellow to slow down. Red to stop."

"And you know you can use them whenever? Even when it's not a check in?"

"Yes."

"What colour are you now?"

"Green."

You look over at the coffee table to see what she's picked out. The strap, obviously. It's her favourite thing to wear when she fucks you. She always gets the same starstruck face whenever you help her put it on.

There's a little bullet vibrator there that you know Alexia loves on her nipples.

Her leash and collar are there too. Usually, they both hang up on the inside of your closet door. They don't come out often but their position on the table now lets you know all you need to know about what Alexia's craving tonight.

You pick them both up and spread your legs, pointing between them.

Alexia fills the space instantly.

"You want your collar on?" You tease.

"Yes, please."

"Such good manners."

The collar had been an impulse buy years ago when you and Alexia had first started experimented. A simple black collar with a little tag.

'Ale'

Nothing else.

Not Alexia. Not Alexia Putellas. Not Captain.

Just a simple Ale, like she was to you now.

"You changed," You note as you clip it around her neck, eyes dragging down to appreciate the lace covering your wife's body.

"I did," Alexia says, dipping her head a little in embarrassment," Is that...okay?"

"You look beautiful, Ale," You say," So beautiful. I'm so lucky to have you."

Her cheeks flush red like every time that you praise her.

That's what she needs tonight.

To be praised.

"But I fear I'm a bit overdressed," You say, teasingly clicking your tongue," Help me out."

Her hands are instantly on your trousers. They're trembling a little in their haste to unbuckle your button. Her fingers keep missing in entirely and you force down your laughter.

You tug on the leash, winding it around your hand so there's little slack.

"Slow down, Ale," You say," Take your time. Breathe."

She sucks in a trembling breath before she finally catches your button. You lift your hips up to help her pull them down.

The desire in her eyes has tripled tenfold and it's almost like she's seeing you for the first time even though this is a dance you've taken together for years.

You lean forward and snatch the bullet vibrator up off the table as you unbutton your shirt and strip off your bra until you're sitting there only in your underwear.

She whines, something low and deep in her throat as you run the vibrator over your pebbled nipple.

A soft moan escapes you and Alexia shifts a little on her knees.

"Are you being impatient again, Ale?"

"No."

You tug firmly on her leash and she corrects herself.

"Yes...Sorry, you're just so pretty."

It's amazing that after so many years you can both still have the same effect on each other because you can feel heat rush to your face at her simple words.

"You're so pretty too," You say a bit breathless as you push the vibrator a bit firmer against you.

"Thank you."

You look at her through hooded eyes. Hers keep drifting from your face to your breasts and back down to your underwear like a ping pong ball.

She's doing a good job at not moving without permission though but it was time to put her out of her her misery.

You remove your underwear and point.

She face breaks into a smile but, still, she doesn't move.

"Go on, Ale," You tease," You've been a good girl. Come and get your reward."

That's the thing about Alexia.

She just adores making you cum.

You could tell that she wanted to just dive straight in but she didn't. Restraint was something that came with age, something she had learnt over years of worshipping your body.

She kisses up your thigh, occasionally stopping to lightly nibble and bite at the flesh there. She stops in front of where you wanted, where you needed her.

"You're wet," She says, reverence leaking into her tone.

You'd been wet the moment you'd sent her back home without you. You'd been wet as you drove home.

Right now though, you're pretty sure you're dripping.

"Because I need you, Ale," You say, breathless as you stare down at her, tugging slightly at her leash in impatience," Please, don't you want to make me feel good?"

She whimpers a little at your words.

Her tongue laps around your hole in brushing sweeps and you whine at each pass. She moans as well, at the taste of you, and finally dips her tongue into your hole.

You pull on the leash, forcing her even closer to you and you can feel her smile against you.

You ignore it, desperate for her as her tongue dips into you again. She explores you like this is the first time you've let her do this.

Like you're some kind of goddess whose altar you're letting her worship at.

Your eyes flutter closed and the sight that you see when you open them is beautiful.

Alexia laps at you with vigour, going from your hole to your clit and back again. She's always been good with her mouth, always known how to take you to pieces, brick by brick.

"Ale," You whine," Ale, so-so good."

With every bit of praise from you, Alexia tries harder, desperate to impress you and finally bring you to the peak.

"Do you want me to cum for you, Ale?" You ask, still trying to tease despite the way that she's steadily building you up and bringing you closer and closer. "Want me to cum in your mouth?"

She whimpers at that and redirects quickly to your swollen clit, focusing all of her energy as she tugs it into her mouth, tongue flicking it teasingly as you tug on her leash to somehow bring her closer than she already is.

You don't give her any more warning than that as your hips rut against her face.

She brings you down slowly before bringing her tongue down in broad strokes to clean up the mess she's made of you.

You loosen your grip on her leash, panting. Your chest rises and falls as you flutter on her tongue with aftershocks.

"Good girl," You say as you catch your breath," Up here now, Ale." You pat your lap and she scrambles on.

Her face is covered in your juices and she looks dazed. Happy but still a little dazed and you take her by the chin into a soft kiss, tasting yourself on her tongue.

"You did so well," You say against her lips," So good to me. So, so good."

She preens at the praise before breaking off into a whine as you unclip her bra and press the vibrator against her in quick succession.

She jolts a little at the shock of it, pressing closer to you and you laugh.

"Does that feel good, Ale?" You ask," Yeah?"

She nods.

"What colour are we now?"

"G-Green," She whimpers out as you switch to her other nipple," So green."

"Green, huh?" You lean forward and suck her now abandoned nipple into your mouth.

You flick your tongue against it teasingly and an even more broken whine escapes your wife.

You can feel her wetness through her underwear and you can't help but laugh, releasing her nipple with a wet pop.

"How are we feeling? Is your brain mush yet?"

She whimpers.

"Is that what you wanted? You wanted me to empty your head for a bit? Want to be my good girl?"

"Y-Yes. Am-Am I being a good girl?"

"So good, Ale. Perfect actually. Doing whatever I say. I think that deserves a reward, doesn't it?"

"Please, I've been good!"

"I know. Now, what do you want that reward to be?"

It takes her a while to get the words out, with the way you've got a vibrator pressed to one nipple and are twisting and pulling the other.

"What was that, Ale? I couldn't hear you."

"I...I wanna..." She's panting hard, each word punctuated with a soft moan of pleasure. "Wanna fuck you, please. With the strap."

"You want to fuck me with your cock?" You tease, kissing up her neck and leaving a trail of marks. "Are you sure? I could return the favour right here, right now."

"Want to fuck you with my cock," She parrots back to you," Please! I've-I've been so good."

"I suppose you have been following all my instructions," You muse," And you made me cum so well. Could you do it again with your cock?"

"I could!" She insists, rutting her hips against yours," Please, amor! Let me prove it!"

You nudge her slightly. "Go on then, Ale. I'll wait upstairs for you."

You take your time going to your bedroom, a smile on your face as you hear Alexia scramble to put on the strap and follow after you.

You've unclipped her leash, hanging it back up on the closet door but you let her keep her collar on as she stumbles into the room, almost tripping over her own feet.

She's a bit like a puppy, you think in the back of your mind as you kiss and back into the bed.

Overeager and excitable.

There's no need for lube, not with how wet you were so you lean against the pillows and spread your legs.

"Come on, Ale," You taunt," I want you to fuck me."

Her throat bobs as she stares in silence, that same awestruck look on her face, like she can't believe that she's the one that gets to fuck you into the mattress every night.

"Unless," You say," You don't want to be my good girl?"

"I want to be your good girl! Let me be your good girl."

"Then come and fuck me."

She pushes in slowly, collecting your wetness as she eases into you all the way to the hilt.

The strap brushes against her clit and she moans like you. Her fingers intertwine with your own as she slowly withdraws again.

It always takes a little bit for her to find her rhythm but she knows she's found it as your head tilts back into a throaty moan.

"So good, Ale," You say," You fuck me so well."

Alexia's attention wasn't on you though. Or, at least, not on your face.

She was hypnotised by the way that your pussy swallowed every inch of her cock, the way that her hands gripped your hips for leverage and the way you inhaled every time she went up to the hilt.

The strap brushes up against her clit and Alexia's broken moans mingle with yours.

"Slow, Ale," You remind her.

Alexia's always had a problem with her impatience, especially when it came to you.

You'd always preferred a slow fuck at first, trying to teach her patience.

Alexia didn't listen, as always. It was always like this when she had a strap.

She was submissive to you any other time, grateful and happy to let you take control but a cock on her hips and suddenly she thought she was in charge.

She thought that she could set the pace and make the decisions.

No.

You wouldn't let that happen.

You could see the moment she decided to disobey you, to try and take control again, undermining this whole thing. She'd wanted you to turn her brain off, to make all the decisions so she could decompress and forget about all the pressure that she usually thrived under.

You could see the moment she decided to stop thinking with her head and start thinking with her cock.

Her pace picks up and you whine in pleasure.

Ordinarily, you might allow Alexia this, you might allow her to have this small bit of control but not tonight.

"Last-Last chance, Ale," You warn through a deep moan when she hits that special spot inside you," Don't you want to be good for me?"

Her pace falters a little but doesn't slow down completely. You look into her eyes and she looks into yours.

She picks up again and you roll your eyes.

It's easy to roll her onto the bottom, your legs wrapping around her hips to flip her onto her back. It's even easier when you realise Alexia is craving to be put into her place.

You're on top now, a hand pressed down onto her chest.

You grab her collar.

"This," You say, lifting your hips up and slamming them down again," Means your mine. Being mine means I'm in charge. Not you."

A breathless whimper escapes her as you ride her cock.

"That means you just get to empty your head and let me decide how things go," You say," You know that, Ale."

"S-Sorry," She whines, head thrown back as you lift up again.

"That's okay. Even good girls need to be reminded of their place sometimes."

She whines into your mouth as you work yourself up and down on her cock.

There was no rush on it on your part.

Alexia was still your good girl but this was still a lesson about disobeying you.

You would have let her cum if she'd been good. She could have fucked you straight through to her own orgasm but now you wouldn't give her that curtsey, focused solely on climbing the peak yourself.

It comes maybe a bit too quickly and maybe you put on a bit of a theatrical moan as you tip over just to make sure Alexia knows that you don't need her fucking you to make you cum.

"Was that good, baby?" You ask as you lazily make out with her, still seated on her cock.

"Yes, amor."

"Do you feel better?"

"Yes..."

"But..."

Her throat bobs a little in nervousness and you wait her out.

"Can...Can...I want to..."

Voicing what she wants has always been difficult for Alexia so you gently kiss along your neck as you wait.

"Can I ride your thigh?"

You chuckle. "And I suppose you want something else with that too, do you, pretty girl?"

Alexia's face somehow gets redder. "Please."

"Come on, baby. Come be a good girl and get off on my thigh."

Alexia lazily takes off her strap as you reach into the bedside cabinet for lube.

"Colour?"

"Green."

She lowers herself onto your thigh and you tense the muscle.

You think this is Alexia's favourite way to get off. She didn't really enjoy taking the strap like you did and while she enjoyed you eating her out, nothing got her off quicker than riding your thigh with fingers in her arse.

"No," She says softly as you uncap the lube.

"You don't want my fingers, Ale?"

"No, I do...I...

She reaches for your hand, sucking in your first few fingers as she rode your thigh.

"Oh, Ale," You groan at the sight," You're spoiling me baby. You want my fingers in your arse that badly?"

She pushes further into your leg in answer.

"You're so good, baby. You doing so well."

You tease her rim gently with spit soaked fingers as she whines.

One finger first to ease her open, rocking it into her arse gently.

The angle is a little tricky, with your arm stretched all the way over her back as Alexia whines and whimpers into the crook of your neck but you've done this plenty of times.

You can make it work.

When the second finger joins the first, Alexia rocks herself more fiercely against your thigh.

"You're doing so well," You whisper to her," Taking my fingers so well. You're so good to me, Ale. Letting me look after you like this."

You don't need to do much, just hold your fingers there as Alexia rocks herself back and forth towards her peak.

"You're so good for me, Ale. You're so good."

You keep up your steady stream of praise even as she lets out a guttural moan.

You bring her down gently, easing your fingers out of her arse once she's fully relaxed and settled against you.

"Do you feel better, baby?" You ask," Was that okay?"

"So okay," Alexia mumbles, scattering kisses against your collarbone," Thank you, amor."

"You know I'm here to make you feel better, baby. I love you."

"Love you too."

You reach for her collar and she stops you.

"Want to keep it on for a bit longer," She says and you place your hand on her back.

"Okay, baby. Only for a little longer. We've got to get you into the bath."

[tojipie]

thinking very hard about truck driver toji !

passing mention of sex but no actual nsfw content !

────────────────────────

lugging cargo across the country is no joke, with individual jobs spanning weeks at a time. fortunately, toji somehow ended up with you to keep him busy, his forever passenger princess.

a blurry picture of you two taken on a disposable camera hangs on the dash mirror. the shot is encased in a clear frame and strung up by beaded thread. you’re holding the camera towards the two of you, blowing a kiss towards the lense as toji stands with his arm slung around your shoulders. he’s smiling, a marlboro red pinched between his molars.

toji tries not to smoke in front of you most of the time, opting to pull over at a weigh-in station when his hands start to shake. he’ll kick the same pebble around while you stretch behind the truck, waving at the occasional biker.

it’s rare that men in his profession have anyone to spend the drive with, toji makes the most of it. the older man uses your little stowaway situation as an excuse to take you all across the country, picking up little keychains and stickers for you at every gas station the two of you visit. it’s hard to keep busy when all there is to do is pump gas and fuck, but you’re content with the little dynamic you have.

he’ll pull into a rest stop every time he starts feeling tired, dragging you into the driver’s side seat so he can cradle you in his arms like a little teddy bear. real sleep is done in the truck cab, under a weighted blanket he’d picked up at a strip mall in the mountains.

your “bedroom”, or the truck cab really, is a modest little room behind where the driver’s compartment is. toji tore out the twin sized mattress 2 weeks into your little arrangement, replacing it with a queen sized memory foam one. “a good investment” he called it.

you two rarely if ever sleep in there though. opting for the comfort of a hotel room over the glorified backseat of a sleeping arrangement his truck has. toji can afford it, that much is obvious from how much he spends on room service per week. the man had taught you that a truck driver’s salary was more than enough to keep a girl happy, and with how much you two had been on the road, he was easily reaching the 6-figure mark.

most people would get sick of being forced to spend so much quality time with each other. you never will.

you’ll never get tired of waking up in a different place every morning, spending hours exploring new cities with your favorite boy. you’ll never get tired the way you learn something new about him everyday. a new detail about the family he grew up with, a beauty mark you never noticed on his back, the way his nose scrunches when you say something funny.

you’ll never get tired of the way he stalks up to you after every other rest stop visit, hands clasped behind his back as he prepares to surprise you with whatever trinket he just bought you. and you’ll never regret your decision to be his permanent little sidekick, experiencing every day right alongside him.

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a/n: hii ! i rly rly love this au hehe, i might even like it more than prisoner toji. lmk if this should be a series, and feel free to send in related asks if u want :D

[parvulous-writings]

i was wondering if i could request some headcanons of the male romancable companions (ie: wyll, astarion, gale, halsin) w/ an affectionate/clingy reader :] thanks!!

Wyll

Wyll LOVES the affection - he's an incredibly passionate man, and adores the fact that you're as mad about him as he is about you.

He's more than happy to hold hands or link arms whenever you feel like it, offering you comfort at every turn of your adventure.

He's a little taken aback at first, when he realises how clingy you actually are, but within the same breath it's already growing on him. To know that he is wanted, loved and adored by you warms his heart, and he always makes sure to reciprocate any affection that you give him.

There are times where he tries to urge you to tone it down, few and far between, but there are times. It's usually because you're in dangerous territory and he wants to be able to leap into action at a moment's notice. He does make sure to keep you close to him when you're walking - either behind him or beside him.

Aside from that, whenever you're close to him, handholding is a must. Either that, or linked arms. He just likes knowing you're close, and knowing that it also brings you some comfort. He also LOVES to give you kisses when he can - on the cheek, the knuckle, the forehead.

At night he always pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you to nestle against you - or you, him. He doesn't mind who holds who between the sheets, so long as the two of you are together, he's happy.

"My love, your embraces are such sweet refuge from our travels... It's a damn shame I have to leave it come morning..."

Astarion

His first reaction is to tease you about how clingy you are, and he does so relentlessly. The fact that you always have that need to be near him, to hold his hand or just have a hand on him is amusing; of course he's known many people who are like that, but it never fails to make him chuckle.

He'll make little comments to you when you sneak your hand into his whilst you're on the road; "Oh? Can't bear to be away from me, I see.", and the same when you try (and ultimately fail) to sneak into his tent at night. He finds it sweet, and after a time, it deeply touches him that you still come to him, despite what he is, despite what he's done, and despite what he could do to you.

Kisses are abundant in the confines of the tent, or when the two of you are alone - he really likes kissing your collarbones, and the area where he normally bites you. He likes to lick the spot too, especially before bed.

Astarion doesn't typically go for the whole public displays of affection thing - he isn't really sure how to react to it, and dually doesn't want to reveal his more vulnerable side to the masses. He will, occasionally, pull you close to him by the waist, though, if he feels like someone is 'encroaching on what is his'.

That being said, as the relationship develops, he becomes equally as needy as you sometimes, as he gets more comfortable with his vulnerable side, and comes to understand what he wants, and what he needs to heal.

Gale

Gale has absolutely no issue with public displays of affection - but his face will likely go bright red every time. On the road he likes to walk beside you, he doesn't necessarily need to hold your hand but if you want to, he will. He does like holding your hand whilst you're eating though - don't ask him why, he'll just deflect with another question.

One way he indulges your more clingy nature is by letting you lay over his lap whilst he reads, and keeping a hand on your head or your shoulder - sometimes he'll even read aloud to you, as well, should you ask. He also likes being the big spoon whilst you both sleep!

Another bit of affection he likes to repay to you - after you smothering him in kisses all day - is to feed you. He takes quite a bit of pride in making dinner for the pair of you, and feeding it to you afterwards, just so that he can see every little reaction you have to the dish.

He won't deny that he likes having you close as well, it's almost integral to his day that he has at least some quality time with you - he's not clingy per se, but he does like some good quality time together.

Halsin

Halsin is actually flattered that you're so affectionate. He enjoys being able to hold you close, knowing that you enjoy it as much as he does. To be able to wrap his arms around you and hold you close to his chest, is a great thing for him, he enjoys it very much. He also really likes when you sneak up on him to hug him from behind - as a larger man he doesn't always get to be on the receiving end of affection.

He likes hugging you close or having you sit on his lap (or lay against him in bear form) whilst the two of you spend time out in nature. He's a big lover of time spent in each other's embrace, and he feels no shame in being what some may describe as 'overly affectionate' - though of course he is aware that there is a time and place when it comes to certain activities.

Will playfully mention about how you always yearn to be close to him, but it's never in a derogatory way; if you asked him why it wasn't derogatory, he'd simply say: "It would be wrong of me to pass judgement on you, for something I so often do myself, my love.." He's a massive softie - a big man with an even bigger heart.

He will definitely try to hug you every opportunity he has, when you're in camp together. He's also suggested a few times for him to carry you on his shoulders when you become tired from walking. "Come, my heart - it is no trouble for me.. What is troubling, however, is seeing you struggle. Put aside your pride, it is not needed here.."

[missadangel]

The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x Ofc!Princess Reader)

All Chapters List

X. The Conflict (+18, Smut, MDNI)

“non est vivere sed valere vita est.”

Life is more than just being alive.

The distance from the city to the port of Ostia was not great, but the ride was rather lengthy and tiring, even for a seasoned rider. Octavius was ever watchful, noting when you were faltering and offering you a respite. You declined, though your body was crying out for it. Your sole concern was to reach Marcus before it was too late. Fortunately, a little later, Octavius noticed a few tracks on the ground as you passed through the dark woods, slowed down and dismounted his horse. He crouched down and examined the tracks then looked at you.

"We should continue on foot from this point onwards, my lady."

"Are we close?" You looked around but there was nothing in sight.

"Indeed. We must proceed with caution and avoid attracting attention. We need to leave the horses here," he said, holding the reins of his horse as he approached you and extended his hand.

"Thank you sir but I can dismount myself." You said and got down from your horse, despite the soreness in your legs. It felt nice to be able to step on the ground again. Unio let out a soft neigh, as if she had read your thoughts. You stroked her face and, grasping her reins, walked in the direction Octavius had said. It was quite some distance from the road and not very visible. In this darkness of the night, it would have been difficult to see anything if not for the moonlight anyway.

Once you had tied your horses, you set off through the forest, guided by Octavius. You eventually reached a hill. It appeared to be a rather tranquil. The only sound that could be heard was the hooting of an owl.

“My lady, if I might ask you to consider promising me something,” Octavius said.

You raised your eyebrows. “What is it?”

"If we don't make it in time, you'll come back to the villa with me."

“No need to worry about that now, if we make it in time, Sir Octavius.”

He sighed. “I'm pretty sure Acacius will kill me this time,” he muttered.

You looked at him with a hint of guilt. “I'm sorry, but you're doing this for him, for your General, your friend.”

"I hope he's already taken care of him and I hope we've came here for nothing. I'd be really happy to be reprimanded and even punched by him."

You laughed nervously. "Would it offend you if I said I hope so too, sir?"

He grinned. "Never, my lady."

"You are a good friend, Octavius.

"Always at your service.”

You were startled by the sound of a horse neighing and immediately sought cover behind nearby bushes. You observed that three horses were tethered in the forest.

"That's Dromos," you realized.

"We must be close," Octavius said quietly.

You soon heard the sound of swords clashing in the distance and moved at a slow pace towards it. When you saw Marcus from behind, you were on the verge of running to him without thinking, but Octavius grabbed you by the shoulder and pulled you back.

“We can't let them see us,” he said, warning you.

He led you to move out of sight to the left, where you hid in the bushes. You observed the situation at a distance and noticed that Marcus cut a soldier with his sword made him collapsed to the ground. However he was alone, probably having lost his men. Macrinus, on the other hand, was standing just behind the five soldiers.

“General, you must cease this nonsense. You'll get yourself killed.”

“Not before I take your life first!”

Your heart was racing with worry. Even for Marcus, who was one against five men, survival was a near impossibility. Octavius stepped in front of you as you stood up.

“My lady, please wait here, I will back him up," he whispered, his hand moving to his sword.

Just then, you heard horse hooves and three horsemen appeared, coming towards them from ahead. Macrinus let out a laugh. Octavius swallowed and looked at his General, unsure of what to do.

At the time you thought you had to stop it somehow, knowing the fact that Marcus won't stand much of a chance. It seemed that he had no intention of retreating though. Furthermore, he assumed a defensive stance, grasping his sword more firmly.

You reached out to grasp Octavius' arm as he began to step towards them.

"I must stop them."

Octavius opened his eyes wide. "But how, my lady? No, return to your horse now, and-"

"No, please hear me out. I don't believe Macrinus will harm me. And Marcus won't let him go no matter what. Besides even with your help, you can't beat all of them. This is the only way.”

Octavius seemed unsure. "What makes you so sure that he won't harm you?’

“Think about it. He has known me for quite some time.” You observed them from behind the bushes. It seemed as though Marcus was contemplating an attack. “If he wanted to kill me he would have done it when we were alone, but instead he made me appear before the council, why do you think?”

"To help you regain your title and gain formal recognition."

'Well, it wasn't out of the goodness of his heart, of course. I believe that when he ascends to the throne, he thinks it would be beneficial for him to have a strong consort that he values in his council." Your voice cracked.

Octavius clenched his jaw. “There is no stronger consort than a princess,” he muttered. Then opened his eyes wide. “If he kills the General-“ he swallowed, words caught in his throat.

“I won't let that happen. So step aside and let me stop them.”

Octavius nodded in despair. "If things don't go well, I'll be here to ensure your safety and that of the General. I'll do my utmost until my last breath.”

You nodded and took a deep breath, moving slowly through the bushes. Just then all five men and the others drew their swords making a schwing sound echoing through the woods.

"General, this is my final warning. It is not possible for you to survive this." Macrinus called out to him.

Marcus was aware that, regardless of his considerable strength as a warrior, it would be extremely challenging to fight against such a large number of soldiers. But retreat was not an option for him. He had to take Macrinus down and make sure his head was severed from his body, no matter what. If he could do that, he didn't mind facing his own death in the end. He was only afraid of being separated from you; he had no other fears at all. He was truly grateful for all those beautiful moments he shared with you. Getting ready for a confrontation, he pointed his sword at the soldier charging towards him. Just as he was about to attack, you suddenly jumped in between them, yelling.

“Stop!"

With determination, you swiftly drew your knife from its sheath on your ankle, holding it firmly in one hand as you prepared to execute your seemingly absurd plan. Marcus opened his eyes wide, looked at you in surprise, and then glanced around.

"Aurelia! What the hell are you doing here?" He yelled.

"My lady!" Macrinus was shocked too. Keeping his distance, moving towards you behind the soldiers, equally bewildered.

"End this, please." You said without looking at either of them.

"Go back, now!" Marcus shouted, knowing full well who had brought you here.

"I'm not going anywhere without you," you protested.

"I have to finish what I started. Now, go!” He hissed.

He brandished his sword at Macrinus's men once more, determined not to back down. You, however, had no intention of letting him get himself killed. With no other option, you put your knife against your neck. Marcus looked back at you, astounded. As your eyes met, Macrinus, as you had suspected, grew concerned and approached you.

“That knife looks pretty dangerous, my lady. I think you should give that to me.”

“Stay back!” You shouted at him, “Don't come any closer!”

“Are you mad? What do you think you're doing?” Marcus roared. He was boiling with anger.

"I'm a medicus, aren't I? I know exactly how and where I should cut to kill myself without suffering."

Marcus clenched his jaw.

"Do you wish to kill yourself, my lady?" Macrinus asked.

You looked at him, feeling the sharp surface of the knife, it made you tense but forced yourself to stay calm. Also, it seemed like a good opportunity to see if your theory was correct.

“You don't want me to die, do you, Sir Macrinus?’

He raised his hand as if he wants to stop you. “No, of course not, my lady. Please put that knife down.” He looked at Marcus. “Acacius, I think we're done here.”

Marcus looked at him with a piercing gaze. “This isn't over, Macrinus.”

He laughed, then his gaze hardened as he looked at him. “You'd better be on the right side when the inevitable happens, General, if you care enough for your wife.”

“If not today, rest assured that I will end you.” Marcus growled.

“It would only be to your detriment,” he said, his eyes shifting to you before he nodded and turned. He tapped one of his soldiers on the shoulder. “Sheath your swords! We're heading for the harbour!” He jumped on his horse and the soldiers followed him behind.

Marcus turned his head towards you and came up to you angrily, snatching your knife and pulling so hard that you stumbled towards him.

"Why did you come here? How dare you hold a knife to your throat?" he barked. His voice was loud enough to make you startle. "I didn't give you this to cut yourself! Don't you value your own life at all?"

"You're the one who doesn't value your own life!" You shouted back. Marcus frowned. "What's the matter with you? Do you think it's worth risking your life trying to kill him? You know how it feels when you lose someone you care about. How can you be so selfish? Have you ever thought about what I'd do if you died? You're so mean.”

As your tears rolled down your cheeks, Marcus' expression softened. He approached you, took your face in his hands and gently wiped your tears away with his thumbs. His dark brown eyes spoke volumes, but he was so angry that he remained silent. After staring at you for a while, he pulled his hands back and looked towards the bushes.

"Octavius! I know you're in there, get over here now!"

The bushes rustled and crunched loudly. As soon as Octavius set foot on the dirt road, you noticed the tension on his face despite the darkness. He came up to you and bowed his head to the General. Marcus gripped him by his leather armour in his fist and pulled roughly.

“Since when have you begun to disobey my orders?”

“Forgive me, sir. I was wrong.”

“I forced him, Marcus,” you interjected.

He ignored you. “I told you to protect her, you shouldn't have cared about what she said to you. You should have stopped her, Even if it meant locking her up or tying her up, it would have been better to do so.”

You laughed hysterically. “You can't be serious.”

He turned towards you. “I'm quite serious, my lady. Instead of risking your life in such a ridiculous way, you would be safe."

You rolled your eyes. "I wasn't really intending to kill myself. I just wanted to be sure of Macrinus' intentions, but you were so determined to sacrifice yourself without listening to me, so I didn't know what else I could do.”

“We'll talk about it when we return home,” he said, pointing his index finger at you. Then he turned and approached his soldiers lying lifeless on the ground, sorrow evident in his eyes. “Octavius, make sure the funeral rituals for our brothers shall be arranged.”

“Yes, sir.” He approached him, kneeling next to a soldier and closing his eyelids.

From a distance, you watched them and found yourself blaming yourself. Perhaps if you had arrived sooner, you could have played a role in saving their lives. Or, if you had come later, Marcus might have faced a similar fate. You shook your head and tried to put these thoughts out of your mind.

While Octavius tended to the deceased soldiers, you and Marcus returned to the villa on horseback. It was just after midnight. The vast majority of the villa's residents were awake and gathered in the courtyard, awaiting your return. Marcus remained silent all the way back, likely still enraged at you. You were no different. It was torture to think that you had nearly lost him because of Macrinus.

Cato respectfully took hold of the reins of Marcus' horse as he jumped down. You dismounted too, noting that your legs felt a little sore from the long ride. As soon as you landed on the ground, you felt a momentary loss of balance, but Marcus' arm caught you. You smiled at him. Even though he was angry; he was still there to protect you. However, he did not smile back. Instead, he took hold of your wrist and pulled you towards the courtyard.  Furthermore, he was not as gentle as he usually was. He did not care when you moaned from the pain in your wrist. He took a quick glance at everyone in the courtyard who greeted you and pulled you towards the stairs. When you turned your head, you saw their faces. They seemed grateful for the safe return of their Dominus, but perhaps a little worried about you. At least, that was your interpretation, because you knew you were in trouble.

He shut the door behind you. You were glad when he released your wrist, as it started to throb. You knew it would be bruised by the next day. Marcus put his holster away while you rubbed your wrist with your other hand. You went over to help him remove his armour. He was aware of your intentions and leaned against the edge of his desk with his arms folded. There was blood splattered on the Medusa's face and on the leather strips of the armour. You gave Marcus a direct look as you undid the armour's threads. He was still frowning and staring ahead. He still seemed to refuse to look at you as you undid the other side.

“You know you're not the only one who's angry, right?”

He then turned his head to you as your fingers unraveled the threads a little harder.

“You can't be any angrier than I am.” He took off his armour.

You crossed your arms, “Why not, I can be just as angry as you.” You lifted your head and looked away stubbornly.

Marcus was trying not to laugh at your behaviour. He pressed his lips together and cleared his throat.

“No way, princess. I'm more than angry; I'm fuming!”

You looked at him as he walked towards you. His gaze certainly showed his anger, but when you noticed the hint of mischief at the corner of his lips, you decided to continue playing this game. He was removing his armbands.

“Fuming? Hah! I'm furious!” you shouted sarcastically.

He threw the armbands on the floor and came right in front of you. This time his gaze was intense.

“I'm filled with wrath!” he growled.

You involuntarily took a step backwards. “So?” 

He appeared to be relishing the opportunity to engage in this somewhat heated, sexual tension-filled game, as he took a few steps towards you.

Suddenly, your back slammed on the wall. He lifted your wrists above your head and leaned in.

"I think you deserve some punishment," he murmured, his breath caressing your ears and causing your body to shudder. He pressed his pelvis against yours and his lips found the vein on your neck. He sucked and nibbled at it, sending a tingling sensation throughout your body. His lips trailed from your neck to your chin, and you found yourself longing to touch them.

You took a sharp intake of breath. He teased your lips with a slight touch before retreating. You leaned forward, aiming for his lips, but you failed. He smirked. His right hand roughly removes your cloak and undresses you, while his left hand keeps a strong hold on your wrists. Your dress fell to the floor, pooling around your feet as the hem caught on the scabbard tied around your ankle. Marcus bent down, untied it and pulled it off. Suddenly, he grabbed you by the legs and threw you over his shoulder. Before you could blink, you were on the bed, gasping for breath. Your stomach tightened with excitement when he emerged from above you.

But he still hadn't taken off his tunic, you thought angrily.

It seemed a bit unfair that you were the only one who was naked. He pushed you back gently when you reached towards him. "Not yet, princess." His hot breath hit your breasts, making you squirm. You were infuriated when he roughly spread your legs with the palm of his hand. Was he going to enter you before your lips met and traveled over each other's body, before his hands caressed your breasts? That's what he called punishment?

You bit your lower lip as you felt his strong fingers on your most sensitive spot. But his fingers lingered, moving in circles. You wanted to sit up and look at him, but he pushed you backwards with his other hand. After teasing your clit with his fingers, which made you clench the sheet, he grabbed your hips and buried his head between your legs. He deliberately blows into your folds, making pleasure run through your body. His erection sears your skin, making you aware that he's getting pleasure from driving you mad with his mouth. He flips his tongue and sucks your most sensitive area hungrily, relentlessly. You moan loudly and your response encourages him to increase the pressure. He is an expert in the art of pleasure giving and he uses you as skilfully as he uses his sword.

“Marcus,” you groaned, you're almost sure that your voice echoing in every corner of the villa. Feeling almost at the edge. You feel him smiling as he moves his lips and touches your body with his warm tongue and fingers. But he retreats suddenly. You moan in protest. You open your eyes to look at him. Panting. You feel a surge of disappointment and a distinct sense of being used. But he laughs cruelly. He wipes your sweet liquid from his lips with his thumb, then licks and sucks the tip, smiling crookedly all the while.

You frown. “So that was your punishment?”

“I was actually going to do more, but…" He quickly takes off his tunic, throwing it on the floor. “I missed you so much and I want you so badly right now.”

“Take me then.” You smiled naughtily.

He smiles back and grabs your arm, using his soldier strength, he turns you and bends you over until you're crouching on your knees. One of his hands is still holding yours behind your back, and the other keeps your torso down so your breasts press against the silk sheet. You wriggle, and his grip tightens. Gods! You haven’t ever felt so helpless. Used like a toy. He keeps teasing your lower wet lips with the tip of his erection. His voice is husky, sensual. “How will I take you, my sweet princess?”

He digs his fingers deep into the cheeks of your butt. This position feels raw, animalistic but pleasantly erotic at the same time. “Shall I take you this way?” he asks without stopping his hungry attack. His warm breath, and beard tickles your ear, and waves of hot pleasure wash through your skin. As though your body is a toy, he forcibly turns you again, and now your under him once more. One hand holds you immobile by your throat. The other grabs your hip. "Or this way?" he says as his now-soaked tip presses against your entrance, bringing shudders and ecstasy into your squirming body. You moan loudly, pressing his lips to yours roughly, silencing you.

He’s taken full control of your body and won’t share it with you. He’ll take you in any way he wants. And, yet, because your body is yearning for him, you can’t bring yourself to ask him to stop, this was a huge turn-on for you. "Marcus," you whimpered. "Please, I want to be yours. Take me now. Pretty, pretty, please." You begged.

He smiled and let you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him to you. He was as impatient as you were, but he was determined to keep this fun and heated game going. He was having fun rubbing his lips against yours and making you whimper a little more. For him, there was no comparison to watching you squirm to be his.  But he couldn't wait to be inside you, and when he finally pushed his length inside your walls, entered you roughly, your body trembled with pleasure. You felt euphoric when his mouth finally met yours. You enjoy him kissing you with incredible hunger until you forget to breathe. With each rough thrust, you instinctively dug your fingers into his back which made him lose it, deepening the kiss, turning it into a carnal mating of mouths. He bit your lower lip, and you moaned with both pain and pleasure. He released his bruising grip, the hard press of his lips, and rolled onto his back, taking you with him. He seems a little worried, but when you giggle at him, he grins and buries his head between your breasts, licking your sternum all the way to your neck. He grabs you by the waist and spins you around, your back hitting his chest. He kisses your shoulder, nuzzles his nose into your hair and finds your ear.

“I want to take you this way.” His hot breath hits your ear as he caresses his way up your neck, making you shiver.

He practically has to arrange your limbs himself as he folds you forward onto your hands and knees and settles behind you. He wrapped his arms around your torso, entering you from behind, and you moved together, as one, never once breaking your intimate connection. When he increased his rhythm, one hand gathered your hair on one side of your neck. His lips traveled from your neck to your exposed shoulder, while his other hand wrapped around your waist. This position made you feel his length much deeper inside you. Your mewl-like moans were added to his and harmonized with the slick sound of each thrust. it sounded like your own special music. Marcus' hands slid under your arms to your breasts and cupped them. You threw your head back in pleasure, bumping into his shoulder as he kissed your neck repeatedly. With his forehead and brows covered in sweat, he sensed that the end was near and his hands gripped your hips tightly, deepening his thrusts and reaching his climax at the same time as you. You instinctively leaned forward as he filled you with his warm liquid, but he caught you and wrapped his arms around you tightly. He groaned loudly and his hot breath washed over your ear. You felt his nose on your cheekbone. His hand cupped your chin, turned your face to his and kissed you passionately. As you wrapped your arms around his neck and turned towards him, he pulled out of you and pressed his forehead to yours, both of you panting. Your eyes were closed, savouring the moment as the sweat mingled on your forehead and ran down your cheeks. You opened your eyes as Marcus placed a kiss on the tip of your nose.

He brushed back a few strands of hair that stuck to your forehead, also caught in your eyelashes. You looked into his eyes and looked at him.You spoke with your eyes for a while, then he frowned. He took your face in his hands, his expression serious. You were unaware that you were crying until his thumbs wiped away your tears from your cheeks. He bent his head and kissed your eyelids and long eyelashes. You nuzzled your head into his neck and he wrapped his arms around you. You couldn't stop your sobs and tears. All the emotions you felt seemed to take over your body at once.

His fingers ran through your hair. “My love. From now on, I won't risk my life easily,” he said in a velvety tone. “So please don't cry.”

You nodded and sniffled. Marcus kissed the top of your head and pulled you down with him onto the bed. You snuggled into his chest, realising how much you missed him even though it had only been a few days. It was late at night and the only sound in the room was the two of you breathing.

“I guess this has become a habit for me,” Marcus broke the silence.

You raised your head and looked at him. You ran your eyes over the sparse beard on his chin, greying in places.

"I've always lived my life like this, always fighting, battling, killing. It's the easiest thing I can do." His fingers traced the curve of your spine. “I was never afraid, not of death, not of losing. I just fought. It was easy because I had nothing to lose. That night, when I was poisoned, I knew it was time for my eternal rest. I felt relieved, not afraid, but ready.”

You swallowed, thinking about that night for the first time in a long while.

"But then I saw those eyes and they gave me the purpose to carry on living." He tenderly touched your cheek with the back of his hand. You raised your head to meet his gaze. He was already looking at you.

“Now I have a responsibility,” he smiled. “My weakness.” He bent his head and stroked yours with his nose. “A beautiful reason for me to die for.” His lips ran through your forehead. "Dying for Rome is easy, simple. But for you, my lady, it's hard, painful. The thought of never seeing you again.” He exhaled deeply. “It puts me in agony.” He frowned. “Just when I saw you put that knife to your neck so recklessly. It was painful too. I'm still angry with you for that.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow to look at him. "I feel the same way, Marcus. I can't even begin to tell you how much it hurts me to think of losing you. I couldn't sit idly by while you risk your life. I'd never be able to bear to lose you." Even the thought of it made you shudder.

He sighed and turned his head towards you. “You won't lose me. There is nothing more important to me in this life than you. How whole and at peace I feel when I hold you in my arms when I'm deep inside you. The reason is you, princess. The reason I wake up every morning with a smile. The reason I am eager to return home from my duties. To you. So I don't want you to do one more thing to put yourself in danger.”

You kissed his chest. You wanted to say more but his words were so beautiful, you couldn't object. You felt tired from the horse journey so you snuggled closer to him. Before he wrapped his arm around you, he covered you both with the sheet. You were finally about to get the peaceful sleep you had been longing for for days. In his arms.

When you woke up in the morning, the sun was high in the sky, but it wasn't its light that woke you up. Instead, it was the gentle caresses you felt on your legs that roused you. Your hand moved to the side of the bed to feel the sheets, but Marcus wasn't there. You opened your eyes when the caresses on your legs were replaced by nibbles. Was he under the sheet? Your eyes opened wide when you saw Marcus's face, smirking at you from between your legs.

“Morning, princess.” His boyish and mischievous grin spread all over his face. “May I?”

“What are you- Ow!” You gasped when you felt his tongue on your most sensitive area.

Expertly, he was licking, biting, sucking, giving you incredible pleasure this early in the morning. You had now discovered all the men inside his enormous body. The honourable man, the dominant leader, the fearless warrior, the poet, the loving husband, the romantic gentleman, the expert lover full of lust, the child inside the fourth year old man.

You smiled when the lustful expert lover has taken you to the sky full of pleasure. It's empowering to know that it was you who drove a powerful, dominating, strong beast like him mad. As you descend from the sky, he settles on top of you, placing kisses from your legs to your belly and then to your breasts and chin. He kisses your eyelids and asks you to look at him without telling you. Now that you know him so well, you immediately obey. Since you are already so ready for him, he enters you easily. He wraps his arms around you, you throw your hands back and clench the sheets. Your body curves backwards and he speeds up his thrusts. You try to suppress the urge to close your eyes tightly. He realises and finds a new solution for you and presses his forehead to yours. You smile when your eyelashes touch. But then, when he gets closer to the edge, also gets deeper into you and increases the pace tremendously, he buries his head in your collarbone. You wrap your arms tightly around his neck. And once again, you ascend to the sky. This time, you feel immense pleasure. You feel a few bites on your neck. You look at him, your eyes alight with wonder, and marvel at the beauty of the man that is coming undone inside you. He tightens his arms around your waist and moans as he reaches his climax. His body collapses on top of yours, his arms loosening. It's so beautiful to watch him as you feel his heated breath on your neck. To feel his heart thudding violently against his chest, the way your bodies connected. You both savour the glorious, euphoric feeling of being in love. Your breathing returns to ease, you feel him soften inside you and he lies down beside you, pulling you into his arms.

"Do you have any duties today?" you ask as you run your fingers over his chest.

"Yes, first I have to meet with my legates, then I have to go to the barracks. I believe there may be someone spying for Macrinus. It would be beneficial to find him before he returns to Rome."

"Didn't you say you'd already found him?"

"No, he was Julia's." His voice was sharp. You were sure he killed him. It must have been very hard for him though, a soldier from his own troops spying for someone else. After a moment or two of silence, you asked him to change the subject.

"Am I forgiven?"

“I’m thinking about it.”

You sat up in bed, intending to study his face, but suddenly a feeling of nausea hit you and you fell back. Your neck hit his shoulder.

“Oh…" You put your hand to your head. Your vision was blurred, closed your eyelids.

“My love. Are you alright?" There was concern in his voice. He sat up in bed and wrapped his arms around you.

You opened your eyes and smiled at his worried face. “My head is spinning a bit.”

“It's almost noon. You've been sleeping for a while.”

“Noon?" You hadn't realised it had been that long. You were usually up early, woken by the rooster. Perhaps it was because you hadn't slept well for a few days without him.  Maybe it was because you hadn't slept properly in his absence for days. "But did you wake up first and await me?"

"That is correct, but then I became somewhat impatient if you remember." he winked.

You smiled shyly. He graciously kissed the top of your head. “My lady, I believe that you may be hungry, are you not?"

You yawned and nodded. “Indeed I am. I must admit that I am rather famished after my longest horse journey.”

He laughed. "I'll tell them to prepare a lunch for us. I must then take my leave.”

Once Marcus had departed from the villa, you wanted to check on the girls. Norell and Decima were sitting together in the courtyard, weaving rugs. You stood nearby, observing them. Decima was from Egypt, so she was used to weaving and her hands were moving with practiced ease. She mentioned about it before.

"My lady, would you care to try?" Decima asked.

"It looks very intricate," you hesitated.

Tullia came into the courtyard with a laundry basket. She made a slight gesture of respect with her head as she caught sight of you. You observed that she was walking with a slight limp. She seemed to be in pain.

“Tullia, your leg seems to be bothering you."

She put the basket down and let out a sigh. “My knees, my lady. I guess it's because I'm too old now.”

"Let me take a look," you said gently, walking over to her. Despite her objection, you helped her sit down in the chair and examined her knees. Given her late fifties age, you diagnosed her with rheumatism, given her late fifties age.

"I think I know what will be good for you," you said, walking to your private clinic-like room. Tullia's eyes widened when you returned with the hemlock jar.

“Isn't this herb poisonous?”

You smiled. “Yes, and potentially deadly.” You teased her.

“Gods, my lady, please forgive me if I've made a mistake.” She placed her hand on her chest.

“Please calm yourself, Tullia. It is indeed a very poisonous plant. However, it is also very useful to the body. I'll make you a tea of this, you drink it every other day, understood?’"

She was still looking at you weirdly.

You laughed. “You do trust me, do you not?”

She nodded.  "I am grateful to you, my lady, for ensuring General's safe return to his home. So, I have great trust in you.”

You smiled. ”I imagine you must have known him for quite some time.”

"That's correct. I've been fortunate to reside in this villa for as long as I can remember."

"I see. Then you knew Marcus's father, the Dominus'?"

"Yes, my lady.”

She had been with him for many years, residing in this villa. She had likely witnessed his childhood, his youth, his unhappy marriage, everything. You felt a bit envious of her, as though she knew more about him than you know about Marcus. But you were also grateful for her loyalty over the years.

“It's the first time I've seen him alive,” she said, surprising you.

“How do you mean?” You demanded.

"Dominus. He would prefer us not to call him that, not after his father. I must say that after you came into his life, I felt like I didn't know him.  He was rather solemn, and it was rare to see him smile. But now I see that he's really alive. It's so pleasant to see him like that. I'm really grateful for that, my lady."

You put a hand on her shoulder. "And I'm grateful that you have cared for him over the years, that you have served him, that you have looked after him."

She put her hand on yours. "It is my duty," she said, smiling softly.

“Domina!"

You both turned your heads to the slave who came running towards you.

“My Lady, the Imperial guard has arrived.”

You inhaled. "Am I being summoned?"

The slave looked at you with hesitation and bowed his head, which meant affirmative. Decima came to stand beside you. "Shall I come with you?"

You grasped her hand. “Yes, please.”

It was your brother Geta who summoned you this time. You weren't particularly curious, but you felt it would be a good idea to pay him a visit. You couldn't help but feel a little concerned about him, though. Besides, it seemed like a good idea to stop by the poorhouse on the way back. You were keen to find out how the children are doing, since you missed them. By the time the imperial carriage arrived at Palatine Hill, it was already late afternoon. You came to realise that you didn't miss wearing stola much since it was difficult to get used to the feeling of being tangled in their feet. And the knife Marcus gave you wasn't helping at all. It seemed a little odd to wear it on your ankle when you couldn't actually use it properly, but you had promised him after all. Geta was waiting for you in the great courtyard. When he realised you, he came running to you with a wide smile, his arms outstretched.

"Aurelia, you've been missed, sister!" He embraced you. You flinch every time he does this, but he deliberately ignores it.

"I'm really curious to know why you called me here."

"Come, let's talk while we drink. Shall we?" He led you to an armchair in the courtyard. You sat down next to him, and adjusted your dress to cover the knife on your leg.

"Wine," Geta ordered the slaves.

One of the slaves poured you a glass of wine. Decima was standing right next to you.

"So, you ordered the guards to send food to the Poorhouse," Geta said, taking a sip of his wine.

You brought your glass to your lips, but the smell was unappealing, so you put it on the table, and pushed it forward with your fingers.

"I did. Or, are you angry with me for this?"

Geta laughed. "I can't possibly be angry with you. However, I believe this is an unnecessary expense."

You glared at him. "Surely it's not as unnecessary as a tiger?"

"At least the tiger entertains us, sister. What is so interesting about those people? Nothing. I have not yet informed Caracalla of this, so you'd better end it before he becomes aware of it."

You leaned towards him. "You are not fully aware of the gravity of the situation, so you speak with undue levity. Would you be willing to abandon those children to their fate?”

He exhaled loudly. He pretended not to care, but he was thinking.

"If you'd like, I can show you. Caracalla doesn't need to know. Trust me, it's a lot cheaper than what you spend on other unnecessary things.”

"No way I'm going there!"

You sighed and stood up. "You do as you wish," you said, with a hint of sarcasm. "I was just considering paying a visit there." You glanced at him, took a step forward. He stood up too, grabbing your arm from behind.

"You've only just arrived, stay a little longer." He sounded like he was begging. He was looking at you in a strange way, you averted your gaze.

"I'm a married woman, I have responsibilities. And those children are one of them." You looked at him again. "As Emperor, you have responsibilities as well. They are your people too. You could come with me and see for yourself. If you are not convinced, I will not bring it up again. I promise."

He thought for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, you win. I'm coming with you.”

He stepped towards to the entrance, but you stopped him by tugging on his arm. "Perhaps you might like to consider changing your attire?" You asked, running your eyes over his fancy toga.

"What's in my attire?" He looked down at himself.

"Well. Your bronze crown, your gold embroidered toga, your gold bracelets, necklaces, and rings, need I say more?’

"Or do you want me to dress like a commoner? Never!" He frowned.

You rolled your eyes at him. It was futile to try to persuade this stubborn boy. So, you gave up. "Very well, as you wish, Your Majesty.”

His frown vanished and he smirked.

As you made your way across the courtyard towards the gate, you became aware of a few murmurs and turned your head in that direction. A group of people were heading into the great hall. Their attire differed from that of the members of the Senate.

"I had completely forgotten they were coming today," he said.

'Is there an official meeting with Caracalla?'

“Our relatives,” he murmured.

You regarded him with a look of surprise. “You were correct in your assumption,” he said, observing them from a distance. “The execution of Gaius has caused some distress within the dynasty in Leptis Magna. They have come here to speak with the emperor.”

"And what about you? You are the emperor as well."

He shrugged slightly. "It doesn't matter. I'm sure he will make a decision similar to the one I would have made."

"Which is...?"

Geta's face suddenly became serious. Without answering, he pulled you towards the gates roughly. But you clearly heard the sounds of screaming and shouting coming from the hall. You felt a shiver run down your spine.

“Did he murder them?” Your voice cracked.

He grabbed your shoulders and pushed you into the carriage. "They killed themselves at the very moment they set foot in Rome, Aurelia.”

It seemed that Decima was attempting to sit next to you, but he indicated the seat opposite. He then sat right next to you. You couldn't focus on them staring at each other, the screams still echoing in your ears, and continued to torture you all the way. All this brutality felt so wrong.

When you arrived at the Poorhouse, the children noticed you and ran towards you with huge, beaming smiles on their faces, gathering around you with cheerful laughter.

“Princess Aurelia!”

You smiled at them. They then looked curiously at your emperor brother, who was standing behind you. The guards approached Geta, looking a little wary. Geta covered his nose with his hand. With a somewhat displeased expression on his face he extended his arm towards them as if warning them.

“Don't you dare come near me!” He yelled.

“They're just children,” you muttered.

“But, they're filthy,” he grimaced.

You rolled your eyes and went over to the boy you had met earlier. It seemed that the mother and baby were doing better. You asked Decima to bring your bag and, as Medicus, you examined the woman and her breast milk, which was now coming in. Geta observed you as you treated a few wounded and sick people. He maintained his distance, of course. Since these people had only seen his face from a great distance before, their jaws were dropped open when he appeared before them in all his majesty.

The provisions have been brought as you requested. But it didn't seem to be enough to feed these people, yet they were happy and grateful.

"I should also provide some new clothes for them," you said, approaching Geta.

He folded his arms and looked them up and down. His expression had become somewhat more gentle, as though he was lost in thought. He seemed to be deeply affected by the unfortunate situation he had witnessed.

"You were right after all," he murmured. "They really do look rather poorly."

You looked at him. "Your Majesty, you have decided to extend a helping hand to these people?"

He locked eyes with you for a moment, his expression hard to decipher, but he seemed happy. Then he cleared his throat. "I would never allow them to pollute the streets of Rome." He turned to one of the guards. "Do as Princess Aurelia says. Make sure you provide what is needed here. And if you dare to speak to my brother about this, I will have your tongue cut out myself.”

The guard bowed his head. “Yes, Your Highness.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you, brother. I believe there may be some good in you after all."

He frowned. "I'm not sure if that's meant as an insult or a compliment."

“Perhaps both.” You stuck your tongue out at him and laughed. You were just trying to make him laugh and your intentions were innocent. But he wasn't laughing. In fact, he was looking at you seriously in a way you'd never seen him before.

"Don't laugh at me like that." His voice was sharper than his gaze. “As if you don't belong to someone else.”

You swallowed, his eyes looking at you with a dangerous intensity. You averted your eyes.

“My lady,” Decima came to your side. She was holding a bowl, without even turning your head, you could smell what was in it. The smell of meat was intense. You felt like your stomach was cramping.

“Hot, freshly prepared food has arrived, the children are eating. Would you like to have some too?”

Instinctively you covered your nose with your hand. "No, Decima, could you keep that bowl away from me?"

"Ah, it seems we have some things in common after all. I think it looks disgusting too." Geta said with a displeased expression. "Well, I think I've seen enough, I want to leave now." He turned towards the carriage.

He raised his hand and beckoning you to join him. As it was nearing dusk, you were keen to return home, so you nodded in agreement. However, as you began to walk towards him, your vision blurred, and your feet betrayed you, causing you to collapse on the ground. When your cheek touched the cold cobblestone, you felt a severe headache. Then everything went black. The last thing you remember was Decima and Geta's concerned voices mixed together with the voices of children.

You felt slight shaking of your body, which prompted you to wake up. Your headache was still present, opened your eyes slowly. The first thing you saw were the golden curtains glimmering by moonlight, which entered through the long window. Next to the window was an armchair with golden details. It seemed as though everything in the room had a golden hue. You realized that you had been in this room before. You were beginning to regain consciousness. You then sat up.

"Sister, I hope you are feeling a little better?"

You opened your eyes wide and looked at Geta, who was lying next to you. On the bed. His bed. You let out a scream in shock. He flinched.

"WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE?” You quickly checked yourself over. Your clothes had been took off, and you were wearing a white, almost see-through tunic that didn't just belong to you. “What happened to my clothes?” You yelled.

Geta covered his ears with his hands. “Ugh! Could you please stop screaming? You're hurting my ears!”

“What have you done to me?”

He laughed loudly and hysterically. "Apart from making you clean up and bring it to my room? What was I supposed to do? You collapsed on that awful, stinking street. Should I have let you stay in your filthy clothes? It was gross, so I had them thrown away."

The slaves must have dressed you, at least that was a relief. But you were still very angry that you had been put in this embarrassing situation. You realised that his eyes were roaming over you. You grabbed the sheet and pulled it up to your neck, covering your body.

“Get me some decent clothes now!” Your voice was slightly trembling with anxiety.

Geta raised his eyebrows, he pointed his index finger at himself. “Did you actually say that to me? You have no manners at all. You don't know how to talk to an emperor.” He teased.

You moaned in response, placed your head in your hands and rested on your knees.

“Please, call Decima over here.”

"I want to know why you fainted. Tell me, are you sick?"

He touched your shoulder, you pulled yourself back and got out of bed. It is almost nighttime now. The mere thought of Marcus coming to Domus Severiana and seeing you like this made you shiver.

"Girl!" Geta yelled towards the door.

Decima and Geta's slave entered the room together, both looking at you with concern.

"Make sure you dress the princess properly. Otherwise she'll be torturing my ears with her squeaky voice all night." He said, squinting at you.

You ignored him. When the girl left the room to bring you a stola, Decima came over and held your hands.

"Are you alright? You frightened me.”

"I'm fine, but we should return to the villa now."

‘"Indeed, you've been unconscious for a while, it's almost midnight."

"Midnight?" You bit your lip.

Now that was something to worry about. You were sure Marcus would be here soon. Luckily the slave girl came with a stola and began to dress you. You heard footsteps and then a knock on the door.

Geta was still sitting on the bed, wine in his hand. With his permission, a slave boy who came in looked scared. “Your Highness, my lady. General Acacius-“

“Aurelia!”

Marcus's booming voice made you feel like you were on the verge of fainting again.

Geta grinned. "This is going to be fun."

You warned him as he was leaving the room. "Please don't say anything ridiculous to him.”

He shrugged. With your heart beating like it was going to burst out of your chest, you urged the girls to hurry up. Geta left the room. You tensed up even more when you heard him calling his name. Finally, the girls finished dressing you as quickly as they could, and you left the room, heading for the stairs with Decima who was trying to catch up with you. As you descended the stairs, you saw him and locked eyes with Marcus. He observed you with a keen gaze. You bit your bottom lip. He then looked at the stairs that belonged to Geta's chamber, then at Geta himself. Suddenly he grabbed Geta's collar with his fists, causing everyone to become tense.

"Have you gone mad Acacius? What do you think you're doing?” Geta barked.

“Marcus!” You ran towards them.

The guards drew their swords.

“What have you done to my wife?” He roared.

“Get your hands off me now!” Geta warned.

“Marcus, please, it's not what you think.” You grabbed his big hands and tried to pull them away from your brother's collar, but it was like moving a marble statue.

“You don't seem to be taking good care of your wife like you promised.”

Marcus tightened his grip and shook him angrily. “What are you saying?”

The guards approached the two of them, their swords pointed at Marcus.

“General Acacius, I warn you.” One of the guards said.

Marcus ignored him, his dark eyes locked on Geta’s.

“Your wife fainted in the middle of the street. I wonder if you were aware that she's been sick.’’

Marcus then withdrew his hands, released him. You exhaled in relief. Geta ordered the guards to put their swords away.

Marcus stepped towards you. "Is that true?" He sounded concerned, touching your face with his hands.

You grasped his hand. "I felt unwell for a moment, but I'm fine now."

Marcus observed your face a little more. Then put his arm around you and glared at Geta. "We shall take our leave now."

Geta shouted behind you two. "You're not even going to ask for my forgiveness, Acacius?"

Marcus answered without looking at him. "With all my heart, no."

You turned your head and looked over your shoulder at Geta. He looked angry and annoyed. You gave him a faint smile.

"Your Highness, shall we stop him?" One of the guards gripped his sword once more.

"Just give us the order, Your Highness."

"Shut the hell up! Leave me alone, all of you! Get out of my sight!" He shouted at them and walked towards his chamber. Caracalla watched the whole thing from a distance, he was looking at his brother coming up.

"You're so pathetic." Caracalla chastised.

"Don't you start!" Geta barked at him, walked towards his room, and slammed the door.

It was well after midnight by the time you arrived back at the villa. Marcus still seemed a little tense, which made you wonder what he was thinking. He was looking at your ankle as you walked to your room. He stopped in front of the door.

“I do not see your knife.”

You looked at him, you had no clue.

“Here, sir,” Decima said. She came up the stairs and stood beside you. She was holding your scabbard in her hand. She handed it to you. “After you fainted-“ She avoided Marcus's stern gaze, turning her eyes to you. “I'm the one who dressed you so I kept this.”

“Thank you, Decima.”

She smiled. “If you'll excuse me, sir, my lady,” she bowed and turned to head for the stairs.

Marcus closed the door behind you. He placed his hands on your shoulders and guided you to sit on the bed, then sat down next to you.

"My love. Are you sure you're feeling well?" His hands touching all over your face.

How can I possibly feel bad when you touch me like this? You thought.

"I suppose I do not need to bring a Medicus for you?” He smirked. “So, what is your diagnosis, lady medicus?”

You smiled. “Hmm, I think I became a little nervous when I-“ You swallowed.

“Continue, please.”

"Caracalla. He had our relatives from Leptis Magna killed. I didn't see them, but I heard them…”

Marcus frowned, clenched his hand into a fist and pressed it to his forehead. He then closed his eyes. “That scum. He must be out of his mind for sure.”

You put your hand on his shoulder. "How do you mean?”

He then stood up. You went over him, untying the strings of his armour.

"Macrinus. He has a majority in the Senate. He managed to eliminate Gaius and his supporters. Caracalla is his instrument. It is likely that he will announce him Commander of the Praetorian (Imperial) Guards imminently. I should have killed him last night." He banged his fist on his desk, almost startling you.

You took a deep breath. “Then why did he go to Libya?” You helped him take off his armour.

"I believe there is a possibility that he is raising his own army. I haven't heard from the legions in that area for some time now."

"His own army?" You shocked. You hadn't realised how serious things were.

"If my suspicions are correct, yes. He also would want to incorporate the southern legions into his own as well."

"Your legions?"

“I'm afraid so.” He turned his head towards you. "I may have to go there soon."

You cringed and your chest hurt. You weren't expecting this at all.

Marcus realised the look on your face and put his arms around you. "I'll have to kill him sooner or later. And them too." His voice was sharp.

Surely you were aware of whom he was referring to.

“I will not waste another generation of young men on their arrogance and vanity. I will not allow Macrinus to use your brothers' trust and start a civil war that will harm Rome.”

“Caracalla, yes, but maybe Geta-“ the words seemed to stick in your throat.

"Are you defending him to me?"

"Absolutely not." You shook your head. "I was just thinking he might make a good emperor.”

"Please Aurelia. I assume you're not meant seriously.”

"He's not like Caracalla. I believe you are aware of that. I don't think you are truly inclined to kill him."

"I was considering it. When I saw you coming out of his chamber..." He pursed his lips, trying to be calm.

You tensed as you remembered that moment. "I'm truly sorry about that." You bowed your head. Marcus placed his hand under your chin and gently lifted your face to look at your eyes.

"He didn't touch you, did he?" His brown eyes were almost black.

"No, Marcus. Of course not."

He grabbed your face in his big hands, pulled you towards him, you stumbled with the sudden rush of his. "I am the only one who can touch you. You are my Aurelia. Mine."

"I am indeed, Marcus.”

"Say it," he demanded. "Say that you're mine. I want to hear it from your lips."

"I am yours." You said softly.

He smirked and bent his head, kissing you roughly almost forcefully. His skillful hands were not gentle while undressing you in a hurry. When you were completely naked, he scooped you up and put you on the bed. In the blink of an eye he was on top of you and then inside you. While he’s having you roughly, his lips, his tongue, his teeth travelled over every possible part of your flesh. Marking you. As if physically claiming you. Making you his.

The sun had just risen when you opened your eyes. But it wasn't its light that woke you. It was the sudden pain in your stomach and the feeling like you'd been punched. You gasped and covered your mouth with your hand, attempting to suppress the urge to vomit. You hurried out of Marcus' arms and ran to the latrina. He was roused from his slumber by the sound of the door closing with a resounding bang.

“Aurelia?”

You were too distracted by feeling unwell to focus on his concerned voice. You splashed water on your face to feel better after violently throwing up. Suddenly you felt Marcus's hands on your shoulders. “My love?”

Your stomach was still causing you pain and you found it difficult to speak. Also, your head was spinning, so you took a moment to lean against the wall. Marcus quickly took you into his arms and carried you to the bed, sitting next to you.

“My lady, I'm really starting to worry now.”

“No, please don't. If I get some rest, I'll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” He took your hand in his hands.

You nodded and smiled at him. But his face showed concern.

“Perhaps I could stay here with you today.”

Just then, there was a knock on the door and Cato came in with Marcus's permission. He gave you both a nod. “Sir, I am here to inform you that the soldiers you have been expecting from the south have entered the city at dawn. The Legates have requested an immediate assembly.”

"Is that so? At last, some good news." He said, then looked at you with uncertain eyes.

You smiled at him and touched his hand with yours. "Please do not concern yourself with my well-being. Just leave. It must be important."

He leaned towards you and kissed you on the forehead. "Have a good rest, my love. And please be well." He kissed your hand before leaving the room with Cato.

After a while there was a knock on the door again. Decima brought breakfast for you.

"My lady, are you feeling better?"

"I believe so."

She approached your bedside. "Would you like me to feed you?”

You laughed. “Dear, please. Hopefully I'm not in a situation that requires me to be fed." You got out of bed and walked towards to the chair. You weren't exactly starving, but you knew you needed to eat to feel strong. You asked Decima to join you.

"My lady, well I am. I've been thinking it over.”

“Hmm?”

"This nausea you're feeling, the headaches. I wonder if...’ When she looked at you suggestively, you swallowed and looked at her, taken aback.

You'd never thought of that. As a medicus, you were confident that you didn't have any other underlying health issues. On top of that, it had been a few weeks since the wedding and you hadn't had any monthly bleeding since then.

"Gods," you murmured. "Could it really be?”

Decima took your hands, seemed excited. "I think so. Have you ever examined a woman carrying a child?"

"No, I've only assisted women in labour. I know how to run a consultation though. But it's still too early to be certain."

Decima smiled widely. "I hope you're with child."

You couldn't help smiling back. "I hope that too. But we should keep this between us for now."

"Indeed, of course.”

“Domina!” came a voice from behind the door.

“Come in.”

The slave boy from yesterday came in, his face was worried again.

“Am I being summoned again? Please tell them I'm sick and having rest.”

"You're not being summoned, my lady.”

“What's the matter, then?”

He bowed his head, as if he didn't know what to say.

“Tell me.” You demanded.

“If you can come down, you'd better see for yourself.”

You exchanged glances with Decima, then got up and left the room. As you were making your way down the stairs, you almost lost your footing when you saw the person standing in the courtyard.

“Lady Domna?”

Julia was waiting by the fountain in a black cloak. She looked a bit worried and uneasy.

"May I ask what you're doing here?"

"We need to talk." She said in a commanding tone.

You suddenly felt tense as you remembered your last conversation with her. What the hell was she doing here?

'Do you usually keep your guests waiting without offering them a seat?'

You rolled your eyes and gestured to the armchair nearby. “Have a seat.”

She sat down in a rather arrogant manner. “Leave us,” she told your slaves. But they were looking at you. Julia was annoyed.

You sat opposite her. “Leave us alone please," you said the slaves with a smile. They then bowed their heads and left the courtyard. Decima too, she nodded.

"Your slaves don't know how to behave." She muttered.

"Could you please tell me why are you here? I thought you were in Syria?"

"I've recently returned. Never mind that. I need you to help me with something."

"My help? Why should I help you?"

"Because I believe you would want to.”

You crossed your arms. "What are you talking about? Speak clearly, please."

Julia sighed. Then leaned closer to you with a sharp gaze, whispering. "I need you to help me kill Caracalla.”

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[ms-demeanor]

Hi. I've followed you for a while and your advice to others always seems pretty good. You seem very knowledge about therapy and driving. This may be a bit out of your depth, feel free to delete this ask if so, but if you have any advice I would greatly appreciate hearing it. I've got a problem: the field I'm studying for and love doing will require frequent trips to places I cannot walk/bike/bus/fly to, and I'm terrified of driving. My father decided the best way to start teaching me was to put me behind the wheel on a small road in a big city with pedestrians and bikes on the road, and tell me to drive. It's been 4 years and I can't even think about getting behind the driver's seat without bursting into tears. Riding in the front passenger seat is fine. I want to get over this fear and finally learn to drive, with paid therapy if necessary, but I don't know what terms to search for to find a therapist that can help me with this. Any ideas?

So I think pretty much any decent therapist will be able to help you with this fear, just like any decent therapist will be able to help you figure out how to approach any fear that you've got.

But I'm also not sure this is something you need a therapist for so much as some very good friends and a lot of time. If you don't have your learner's permit I'd recommend getting one, and from there I think I'd say to ask some good friends, who you know are good drivers, to help teach you the rudiments of driving.

I think that you should do this by starting on a closed private property where there aren't people or pedestrians or anything else, and just put the key in the car, put the car in drive, and drive up and down a driveway until you are capable of doing so without panicking. From there, have your safe trusted driver friend take you someplace with no traffic of any kind but that does have some kind of lane markings (school parking lots on weekends, shopping center parking lots late at night, etc) and begin practicing things like stopping, turning, and acceleration. Do that until you're comfortable driving around empty parking lots, at which point I'd say that you should look at enrolling in a driving school with a closed course.

You were put in a very stressful situation that frightened you a lot, but there are ways that you can build up that should help you to see that it doesn't have to be stressful like that. Sit in the driver's seat of a parked car. Turn the car on without putting it into gear. Drive it back and forth just to get used to the car being in motion at very slow speeds.

If you want to work on this with a therapist you're probably going to want to be looking for someone who specifically discusses dealing with phobias around driving or accident-related trauma and recovery; cars can be terrifying and there are a ton of people who have had bad times with cars so there are lots of professionals who have dealt with getting people comfortable around cars as a necessity of our car-centric culture. That's the kind of stuff I'd be looking for, is people who talk about vehicle-related or accident-related trauma.

But also I think that's just a good thing to say out front if you're shopping for a therapist. "I am scared of driving and want to learn to drive, that is my primary current interest in therapy and I'm looking for a professional to support me while I work through this." Say this out loud as you call offices, and DO make calls, don't just look for reviews. People may not advertise this kind of thing specifically because it may just be taken for granted that it's something that their office can help equip you for.

Though, again, I think that you can likely do a lot of that yourself with the help of a good friend or a patient family member who is willing to respect your boundaries and work within them, but you need to think about what your boundaries are and what your goals are before you get to work.