#Sorry I'm making myself cry again somehow
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Run boy run.
#And if I only could#I'd make a deal with God#and I'd get Him to swap our places#be running up that road#be running up that hill#be running up that building#What was the plot of this movie? I forget#Sorry I'm making myself cry again somehow#SHANKAR#Koyla#any other gifsets I want to do have his dangerous puppy dog eyes and I CAN'T
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i'm sorry you keep coming to me in messages or replies to say you care. I know this sounds fucked up to say and i'm sorry i'm sorry i keep saying stuff like this i hate saying stuff like this i'm so sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i keep doing this i'm so, so sorry i should stop saying it because it's just being said over and over and over and over again and i'm so sorry that i keep saying that kind of thing over and over and just making you feel like you have to say something it's awful and i hate feeling like i'm somehow forcing you to remind me of whatever care you're placing in me because that just feels awful i don't want you to feel like you have to say it and i'm so sorry
#ignore me please#i sound so fucking stupid and i'm so sorry i'm sorry I'm getting like this again i'm so sorry#i shouldn't be like this i don't have reason to be like this#i'm sorry and I just know i'm going to see the interactions or something#and i'm going to make myself worse cause I should just SHUT THE FUCK UP BUT I DON'T BECAUSE APPARENTLY I NEVER DO THAT ANYMORE??#and i'm sorry I can't do that anymore I don't want to be sitting here crying feeling like that's fake#and that i'm somehow forcing you all to flock to me when I shouldn't even be in tears in the first place!#i'm sorry. and I should stop saying it.
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successfully worried my mum as well despite trying not to. lmao. lmfao even
#day keeps getting worse somehow#someone make it fast forward a few hours so i can just sleep#how do you convince your mum you're not going to attempt suicide again when you've promised that before and broke the promise#asking for myself bc i really am not going to attempt suicide but i AM doing badly and she can tell and i accidentally worried her even mor#and i understand why she'd be worried. like knowing myself and how i let myself suffer by myself hiding it from her#i get it. i'd be worried too. but like what can i do to convince her even if things are bad i'm not going to do anything like that#and i'll see her soon and i have a bandaid on my hand which won't help bc if she asks even if i lie to her i won't be able to do it#convincingly bc i'm a good liar but not that good when i know she's already on alert#you know maybe if i hadn't attempted suicide a number of times you can't count on only one one it would be easier to be like don't worry#and be convincing#my mum knows “that voice” i get when i'm extremely down actually even at work people immediately noticed#which on one hand like... i don't take for granted that people care about me this much. it is a good thing#on the other it's fucking hard to deal with the worry from others when they can't do anything to help you and you don't know what to tell#them beside don't worry which is the stupidest thing to say to someone who can tell you're not okay#like i would worry! and i would be right to. but. but idk. family doesn't usually help in these times#i'm sorry to say that bc i love my family but sadly it's the truth. being in my old bed just conjures up more bad memories and shit and the#i not only feel bad but feel like i'm somehow in some way 17 again. it's awful#so being alone isn't good but being here isn't either so what the fuck do i do. i don't feel okay anywhere. i don't feel safe anywhere#oh my god i'm sorry i'm being soooooooooo fucking depressing#you can hate really i'm like always so negative lol sorry#i'll shut up now bc i'm close to crying and my mum will be here soon and if she sees me crying no way she's letting me go#suicide tw#sorry was forgetting the tw
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if one more well meaning relative asks me if i have done any drawing recently i will start screaming and flip a table 🤪🙃
#it's not their fault!! it's not!!! I'm known for being The One Who Draws#they usually get updates from my parents sending out pictures of things I drew for assignments for school for years!! they haven't gotten#anything new in a long time!!#it's not their fault to ask hey have u been making anything new??#but also if one more person asks I'll literally go fucking nuts I will start screaming crying throwing up#I will begin tearing myself limb from limb#especially if it's my grandma who I see literally every week and she in fact knows I have not been drawing#it's worse when she asks bc then it's also with that quiet pity of someone who assumes I probably haven't but hopes that I have#ANYWAY SORRY I JUST HAD TO PUT THIS SOMEWHERE#I'm doing my best and I'm not in a great space and I'm trying real hard to try and figure out who the fuck I am when my entire life isn't#Completeing Assignments#bc since middle school I have been nothing much outside of a Complete Assignments Machine#and I've found ways to bring my humor and my creativity and things I enjoy INTO Completeing Assignments#but I've somehow then learned I can ONLY do these things if they're for Completeing Assignments#and now I have graduated college and I'm trying to get a fucking job and move somewhere new and my life isn't Completeing Assignments anymor#and I haven't relearned how to have creative fun ideas outside of the assignments framework#but I want to get there again#but I need everyone to stop asking me if I have made any art recently#bc I think for a while the answer is going to be no and if it's not no it's gonna be yes but I'll have made something so fucking weird#you're going to wish I had said no and not explained that I was building a dead rat puppet#im a rambling sam
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The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x OC)
All Chapters List
X. The Conflict (+18, Smut, MDNI)
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“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.
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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.”
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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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#fanfiction#fanfic#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal gifs#pedro pascal#ao3 fanfic#gladiator 2#gladiator ll#gladiator ii#general acacius#marcus acacius x you#marcus acacius#general marcus acacius#marcus acacius x reader#marcus acacius smut#marcus acacius x female reader#marcus acacias x reader#marcus acacius x oc#marcurelia
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When you suddenly cry in front of them :(
Riddle, Vil, Kalim, Malleus x gn!reader (riddle's and vil's are explicitly post overblot tho it's not super important)
i'm back to entering tartarus every day (school started again) so i thought i might as well distract myself with some hot twst guys :)
i havent been very active i know, i just cant get myself to do anything at all these days 😞i am so so sorry for making a kinda lazy short collection of blurbs but i need to get back into my writing groove somehow
(as a sidenote, i'm worried some of these might be ooc? i sincerely apologise if they are :( )
RIDDLE honestly doesn't know what to do with himself. He never really got the comfort he needed whenever he cried as a child so he had no idea how to comfort you now. He scolds himself internally for not immediately acting and just kind of freezing up beside you so he panics and tries to recall of all the times he saw someone else comforting others in order to end the extremely awkward tension as quickly as possible. He pats your back somewhat rigidly and says "There, there." In an all too awkward manner. You're caught off guard so hard by the sheer akwardness of Riddle's comfort technique that you burst out laughing, troubling Riddle even further. "W...Why are you laughing now?" The dumbfounded expression on his face is the perfect medicine for forgetting your troubles just now. Riddle unintentionally just cheered you up. After the incident, he seemingly becomes less strict with you and starts asking about how you're doing umprompted, which always pleasantly surprises you. Sometimes, Trey even shows up at Ramshackle dorm, holding a tart of your favourite flavour and saying he got orders from Riddle to deliver it to you.
VIL drops his usual strict nature for a bit. Of all people, he would be the one who could tell you were constantly acting strong and unbothered by everything going on around you. He thought of it equal parts admirable as he did foolish. Such intense emotion is not something to keep bottled up inside you and you made him realise that. His expression is surprisingly soft as he places one arm on your back, gently stroking it. He talks you through your feelings with a big sense of maturity and care and you're suprised by just how much he cares for you and your feelings. You don't exactly get that same impression when he's scolding you for not sitting straight or not wearing your uniform properly... regardless, you're very thankful for his words, even the harsher ones about needing to tell someone about things like this. "Tell me, if you must. I will always listen." After the incident, nothing much changes, really. Atleast from the perspective of others. He still gets on your case for not wearing your uniform properly, but he also asks about how you're doing when he gets the chance and does not accept simply "fine" or "okay" for an answer. You simply must elaborate why that is.
KALIM enters big brother mode. He's comforted crying siblings for various reasons before so what makes you any different? He gives you a tight hug, gently rubbing your back and trying to cheer you up with comforting phrases. He'd also try making jokes you to cheer you up and the puns are so bad you might as well start laughing. He didn't even start asking what's wrong but instead waited for you to tell him yourself. He surprised you with how mature (or perhaps just experienced) he is when it comes to crying people. You feel much better even only after a few minutes and you ask Kalim how you can thank him for hearing you out. "Seeing you smile again is reward enough!" He replies and you feel like crying again (but this time not from sadness or stress). After that incident, he always personally invites you to Scarabia parties, hoping they might inject a little joy in your life and keep your mind off things. If you're not a fan of parties, he takes you on carpet rides around the dorm instead.
MALLEUS is shocked into silence. You were smiling at him as sweetly as you always do just a moment ago... He knows how to comfort someone in theory, but now that he has to put it into practice, it feels like he's forgotten everything. He needs to show you that you can rely on him when it comes to your comfort, and that includes crying around him. This might just be one of the most heartbreaking sights he's ever had the displeasure of witnessing. He vows to himself that he never wishes to see you cry again (unless it's at your wedding) and would do anything to prevent it. He wordlessly pulls you into a secure hug, worried that if he does anything else, you might start crying even more. You hug him back and just sob in his arms, thankful for his warm embrace. "It will all be okay, child of man. I'm here, after all." And somehow, you can't help but trust those words with every fiber of your being. After the incident, Malleus ends up confessing what happened to Lilia and Lilia goes into one of those "Oh, how my baby has grown..." rants. But he also does say that Malleus should start inviting you to new places to keep your mind off things and help you let loose. So he does just that, with an added sprinkle of gargoyle-hunting and gargoyle facts. You're now very well educated about gargoyles lol.
#☆‧₊˚ ꒰𝓉𝓌𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓌𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒹꒱#𝄞‧₊˚ ꒰𝒶 𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓈𝓎𝓂𝓅𝒽𝑜𝓃𝓎꒱#twst x y/n#twst x yuu#twst x reader#twst x you#riddle rosehearts x yuu#riddle rosehearts x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#vil shoenheit x reader#kalim al asim x reader#kalim x reader#malleus draconia x mc#malleus draconia x reader#malleus x y/n#kalim x yuu#riddle x yuu#vil x yuu
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Really enjoyed your headcanons on Caeser and Proximus, do you mind doing the same with Noa?? 😊🙏
[Noa and day to day life with him!] [Headcanons!]
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Summary: Noa takes you back with him to his home, and the clan accepts you as one of them. Even if you're concerned otherwise.
Word count: 1k (Jesus christ)
Warnings: None that I can think of! Can be read as Platonic or Romantic! You and Noa are attached to one another. (Yes, this is me projecting.)
A/N: Noa is so near and dear to me, I literally did not mean for this to be so long, and I STILL cut myself off. This is 1k words worth of headcanons for him, and it is not enough. I'm Noa's #1 fan, I am sorry to all my friends and family who have to hear me talk about him constantly.. Ask me for Noa anything, and I will give you the world.
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Do me a favor and strap the fuck in for this it's alot.
I am so glad someone asked about Noa bc I got ALOT to say.
Noa has had it with humans, Mae put him, his clan, and countless others at risk, he should not trust humans, really he shouldn't, but he can't help it. She also betrayed you in the process, and now you're alone.
You agreed to help him and Mae against Proximus, you're the only one who actively goes up against Proximus as well.
Swinging and trying your best to try and get Proximus off of Noa, yelling and crying while the other apes just stare in fear. (Later on they apologize, but you don't hold it against them.)
It's a huge risk to invite a human with them again, but then he remembers Rakas words, Caesars words, and decides he can't told another's decisions over you.
So when he gently grabs your hand in his, looking down at you with a strained smile, blood seeping from his lips, you follow, back to his clans land.
Now on to the good stuff, it's kinda awkward finding your place among the eagle clan, the elders are gone, his father Koro is gone, there really is no guidance as to where to place you.
You drift mostly, either helping Dar or helping with the young ones, teaching them how to read and write, helping fish, farm, the basic tasks.
Dar loves you by the way, doting on you and making sure no one messes with you in a harmful way. She teaches you their customs and traditions, all the while playfully teasing you about Noa. She's a mom, she knows.
You're happy with your work, happy with your place among the clan. It's genuinely shocking how much they were willing to forgive and to not hold any grudges against humans after one ruined everything.
It helps that Noa takes accountability for you, somehow so trusting that you will not cause harm. His faith in you speaks volumes and you remind him everyday that it won't go to waste.
All he does is send you a sweet smile and ruffles your hair.
You find yourself helping Noa alot with crafting new tools and contraptions, being a second pair of eyes that can catch onto things he can't.
"Very smart." "Thank yo-" "For an Echo." and he does that stupid cute little sniff afterwards and it makes it tremendously hard to hit him.
He's such a little shit I fucking hate him.
You're his shadow when his duties permit, he's taken on a higher role of the clan, sometimes going out for days at a time but you're always at the edge of the Village waiting for his return, anxiously working your bottom lip until you see him in view.
You're both extremely attached to one another, Soona and Anaya become attached to you too, dragging you along in everyone's free time to go climbing, to eat, to hunt, just about any group outing has you as their fourth member.
Noa was worried about them accepting you, but they love you just as much as he does.
It makes his heart swell when he sees you and Soona together, giggling about something surely only you both understand while Anaya groans and complains about being left out.
It's like you've always been meant to be with them, to round out their group.
Soona and Anaya will offer to be the one to carry you this time, they do want to, genuinely, but Noa won't let them 99.9% of the time, He's used to your weight, he trusts that he can keep you safe the best. (Says the ape that literally almost died multiple times doing stupid shit)
"Noa worries too much, they will be fine." "Anaya is clumsy. Can't trust you to carry yourself, much less echo."
He tries not to carry you everywhere, but it is so much more convenient than waiting for you, so he scoops you up often enough that the stares don't bother you anymore.
Remember how in the movie, all the apes sleep together communally? Well you're at first extremely nervous about that, not wanting to ask what exactly are your accommodations because surely they don't want you there with them.
Actually, Noa does, so jot that down.
When you shyly move away, he raises his palm up at you, nodding to the space besides him.
When you don't move, he gently tugs you down, laying on his back and shutting his eyes. The clan hasn't really fully rebuilt and started to gather things needed for shawls and coverings, so it's not strange to him that you cuddle up to him to steal his warmth, peeking an eye open to see your face squished into his side, knocked out.
He wraps an arm around you, incasing you in more warmth.
This is a nightly routine until you finally take it upon yourself to throw yourself on him, he chokes out a breath as you make yourself comfortable.
Soona and Anaya usually join in, he cannot fucking breathe but he's so happy that it outweighs it.
When Mae inevitably shows back up, she sees you out in the distance, you look so genuine happy, so at peace with where you are. You even have some eagle feathers in your hair, integrated into their life that it shocks her.
It's enough to make her put the gun away, grasping at Rakas necklace like a lifeline, sucking in a deep breath to stop her from crying.
Maybe apes and humans can live at peace with one another after all. She hopes you prove her wrong.
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ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!
#feel free to ask me for more noa hcs! (PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE)#teddy asks ♧#planet of the apes x reader#planet of the apes#kingdom of the planet of the apes#kotpota#pota#Noa#Planet of the apes Noa x reader#Noa x reader#teddy loves apes ☆
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୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 24﹕✦﹕┈・୧
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-> Event Masterlist
Geto Suguru x F!Reader -> Size Kink
Summary: After returning from your trip, you found out your boyfriend is not okay. Maybe a vacation (To Venice) ;) would help. (Mentions of Deppressed!Suguru, angst, breakdowns, toothrotting fluff and comfort, Satoru being a wonderful best friend, Suguru healing) ❤️🩹 Basically hurt-comfort with size!kink 😭
Warnings: Angst, breakdowns, Suguru’s deranged and suc!dal and has murderUrges, Reader (us) comfort him and pull him out from it. Mentions of reader’s breakdowns, cus I mean— 🤷🏻♀️ Look at him!!?? Nipple-play, breeding, softsex, sensual, FLUFFY AND NICE AND SUGURU’s so Spoiling towards us it’s just 🙈
A/N: Guys I had sm fun 🥹😵💫🩵 writing this I swear!! Hurt-comfort is like my favorite thing in the whole wide world <33 I love to characterize Suguru & to play around with his character. *Screeches and screams* 🍨🍦 I made him yummy thank me later xx Also can we look at the images of him above 🥵 size kink BRRRR
"If you really think, you can do everything, take everything in, save people, and somehow save yourself along with the deceitful thinking that you will protect me. Then you're wrong!" Tears welled up in your eyes, the pain clearly imminent in Suguru's eyes. He looked dead inside, and no mourning was soothing your ache for your older Suguru. You just, missed him beyond beliefs… even when he was right beside you. You hoped he would response to your cry of pain, your bleeding words, but he didn't have it in him anymore. Suguru had almost, given up on himself.
Your hands found themselves clasping onto his collar, pulling him closer to you. "Suguru, look at me, I am telling you something. Can't you fucking see how much it hurts!" You screamed, losing your calm, your temper. It felt ironical to complain to him about how much it's hurting you. You can see he's got it worse; the nights full of terrors and the days full of decaying cursed spirits. You were an empath for your lover, and it was clear staying near him was subjecting you to everything he felt. He doesn't want to see you this way, desperate and hurting…
"I'm sorry, Angel." Suguru sighed, wrecked with the way you burst into tears and hugged him. Voice choking onto sobs as you earnestly tried clutching onto him for dear life. "Sugu, come back to me please come back…" You cried, wailed and eventually dropped onto your knees. The incomprehensible feeling, the heaviness of the things Suguru was going through was making you breathless.
Suguru's heart was only breaking further apart, watching you slowly scrape away in front of him. "I want to kill myself." He finally spoke up, "No, truth is, I want to kill everyone."
This was the first time Suguru was opening up, and no matter how brutal it sounded, his eyes were still kind. Maybe because it was you, in front of him. "You are a sorcerer, too, I shouldn't say this to you, but I hate those monkeys." He radiates pessimism and negativity through him. Yet, you smile a little.
"Come with me, go away with me." You held his hands, squeezing them tightly as if you were grateful they're not cold. You truly were. They were warm, they were still your Suguru's hands.
"Please, Suguru, let's go away for some time." You urged, and he knelt with you, hugging you tightly, not caring about the whimper that escapes you because of his firm grip.
"Running away, won't solve anything." He echoed, and you felt your stomach sink. Soft sniffles echoing in the room as you shook your head like a tantrum-y child. "No, we will solve everything. You and I, we can solve everything. No matter what it is." You cupped his face, becoming stronger for him. "It's okay to feel like this Suguru, it's okay. I'm here." You nudge, watching his eyes showing signs of at least, some life in them. "Can you, not give up?" You meant on himself, you meant on everything.
To make sure, he understands… you hummed again, "makes me feel like, I'm being abandoned."
Suguru blinked at that, letting your words settle deep within. "Makes me feel like, I'm not even worth fighting for." You looked down, not having the guts to say this to him while making eye-contact. "Please, let's elope somewhere Sugu." You crooned, babying him almost. "I will follow you to the ends of the earth anyway, even if your path is changed." You hum, and with the way your pupils fixated on your hands intertwined, Suguru knows you mean it.
"Okay, maybe… I do need a little get away." Suguru smiled tenderly, partial charm returning to his eyes.
Oh it felt like rain in famine, "Good, thank you, I love you."
"I love you too, my Angel."
---
The next thing was you booking tickets to go to Europe. You urged Satoru and Yaga to not assign any more missions for Suguru. It was hard, you and Suguru were both powerful special grade sorcerers; but hey- you both had Satoru to rely on. "I told you the moment he lost weight, he wasn't doing okay." Satoru scoffed, rolling his eyes, tapping at his feet impatiently in the café you decided to meet him in. "What the fuck is up with being the one to hide things?" Satoru was pissed, why would his best friend not communicate? "Makes him feel less of a man?" You chuckle at that, you knew Satoru loved him almost as much as you did. "I've persuaded him to go on a trip with me." "You did?" Satoru was… amazed. These days, Suguru wasn't even joining in for any normal outings. Wasn't going out of his house for weeks, wasn't even meeting you. Things worsened when you left to Korea for a mission longer than 3 weeks. You had to stay there for some Jujutsu School Collaboration initiative. That's when Suguru was off his leash, truly at his worst. Taking missions more than he should, succumbing to the darkness of his mind and the curses.
"Just, want you to handle things while we're gone." You sipped onto the iced frappe you've ordered. Meanwhile Satoru ate a mochi, seemingly absent-minded and bored. "You don't have to worry about that, you know I'd do that in a heartbeat for him." He bratted, raising a brow at you. "And you…"
You smiled at that, nodding gently. It felt good to have the 'Strongest' so whipped for your boyfriend, and platonically you, as well.
The higher-ups posed a threat, as always. 'Why is Suguru Geto not on missions?' ; 'Did he get off the job of a Sorcerer?' especially the cunt-faced Principal of Kyoto. You and Satoru personally paid him a disrespectful visit at his school. Nothing he can complain against, wouldn't sit well to anger two special grades, will it? Despite showing that the Sorcerer world is only filled with people who are willing to take on the role- example: Nanami switching from corporate jobs to a sorcerer job… it was still, at the end, a disgusting, foul powerplay hidden beneath shackles of rules. If you are a special grade sorcerer, they'd do anything to hold on to you. Even blackmails are not far off the list. Emotionally draining…
---
"I have booked us a flight to Venice, baby." You sat cross legged on the swing chair Suguru's house has, fondling with your iPad and searching for hotel venues. "Venice huh." Suguru was still numbed, but at least, not he couldn't avoid you because practically you lived with him now. "Yeah, we can go to Switzerland, and also wherever you want. I hear Germany this time of the year is beautiful." You croaked excitedly, swaying your legs as he walked towards you, sitting on the chair in front of you. "Satoru told me you and I are on a vacation for months." He came directly on the point. "The trip isn't that long, is it?" He manspreaded, raising a brow.
You gulped, smiling softly, the last thing you need is him feeling 'weak'. You had to approach this carefully. "Suguru, I think you and I have done enough missions for a while. I want us to spend some time together, to ourselves." You added some degree of truth, "Also, I don't want you to keep eating curses and letting them eat you from the inside and I don't want to lose the person I love the most in my fucking life." With the way you affirmatively snapped, there was no way, Suguru would battle against it. A soft nod was all you got as a response.
"Alright, I will handle the packing. Don't want you screeching like a wild animal when you discover you forgot your charger." He leaned in, giving you a chaste peck & you giggled. "Of course."
---
The packing, the preparations, the dressing up and going to the Airport, the flight where you slept leaned against his shoulder. All went by in a tender haze of beautiful memories. Inflicted and infected by his sadness, still. Though you wouldn't mind. You're ready to accept him rotten if needed.
When you two reached Venice, the Victorian style hotel with the boats and the beautiful lakes was in fact, refreshing for him; and you. You knew it because Suguru had stopped going to your shared balcony of the house, now here he was, standing there, observing the people. The couples giggling and kissing each other, the boat rowers singing in their native Italian language, the streets with so much hustle and bustle… yet calming. You hugged him from behind, breathing in his scent. "Like it?" "Love it, my beautiful baby." He crooned back, turning towards you and pulling you closer to him by your hips. "I love you." He chanted, almost in a way that he used to when he first asked you out. These past few months were hard and rough, but if you were able to have him back, even infinitely slowly… you'd dedicate it to eradicating all his sadness.
"If you want, I can dress very Lana Del Rey today and we could make steamy love." You giggled, leaning in and kissing him softly. Suguru and you… yeah, haven't made love in a while. You'd never push him when he isn't feeling it, and naturally, someone who's suffering so much would have it at the last thing on his mind.
"You're right, how disappointing of me… I don't remember the last time I treated you, I worshipped you." He thought out loud, and you pouted. "It's okay Suguru, don't think about it like that. Think about how you're gonna make it up to me." You stuck your tongue out, giggling.
It's the way he looks at you, like he's starving and you're delectable. It's the way his eyes are loud enough with their projection of love that it quiets the world down for you. It's the way Suguru Geto breathes, that makes you love him so much you'd break.
Right now, he's doing the same thing… being himself. Hands wandering to your sides and helping you wrap your legs around his waist as he walked towards the shared bedroom of the hotel. Leaning in and kissing you passionately, shoving his tongue just to show how much he's been deeply yearning. Admiration coated in every action. "So lucked out that I have you." He smiled to himself, kissing your forehead deeply once you were nestled into the succumbing softness of the mattress.
"Same," you grin back, watching him undress you with his eyes first, and then his hands followed. You mimicked the same movements.
"I can't handle the fucking hotness!" You whined, once he was left in his pants, upper body naked for you to devour. Suguru chuckled, heat rushing through his cheeks and core as he cupped your face, kissing you once again.
The thing about you and him is, Suguru is big. He's built like a bulky man. Stretched to 6'3'', broad shoulders that'd hold two of you, hands big enough you miss almost an inch if you were to compare his with yours. Yeah, Suguru was big and you were tiny. Something that only aided to you being subbier and smaller to him. Letting him manhandle and take all the control that he wants to.
"Who do you belong to, darling?" He cooed, watching you instantly answer. "You, forever and always."
It warms his heart when he hears that, spreading your damp pussy lips with his fingers and thrusting a finger into you. It's been… long. He knows it with the way you're clamping for dear life, just on his digit. "Sh-i-t," You croak out, while Suguru hushed you with a soft kiss, slowly moving his finger in and out of your pussy. Once he felt you had accepted his finger's girth, he inserted another one. "AH god-" You whined, mewling at the delicious stretch of his thick and long fingers being coated with your essence. "You want to make sweet love and you're so worked up with the fingers alone." He chuckled to himself, stretching you out so good, curling them against the familiar sensitive spot.
Your back arched, the way your pussy clamped as if she was a slave to his hands and cock.
"Oh she's close." He cooed, "Go on, cum for me then I can ruin you with me." He kissed your pelvis, holding it down as your orgasm raked through you, approaching fiercely and shuddering your body against him as waves of pleasure took over you. "Good girl. Good little girl." Suguru praised, riding it out for you. Once the orgasm's high settled, Suguru took out his fingers and suckled onto them, eyes never leaving yours.
"Want you, so bad!" You gasped out, pulling him closer to you by wrapping your legs around him, feeling the imprint of his cock into you. "Alright alright, impatient little girl." He smirks, pushing the tip of his pre-leaking cock into you in one swift stroke. Mean, Suguru Geto is mean sometimes… especially when he wants you to be scream at the stretch only he can give you. No one else, he wants your pussy to know only how he feels. Damn he's big, and when he pushes himself balls deep, your pussy is strained beyond its limit. "Shit- s- so big Sugu." You whimper out, tearing up at the ache.
"Ssh, it's okay darling. I'm still. Adjust to me, go on." Suguru patiently waits, kissing your face all over, leaning in and kissing your breasts, suckling onto your nipples while you clamped and waited for the pain to settle in.
"Move, please…" You glance at him now, doe-eyed and insatiable.
"Of course, took you some time to adjust to me huh? Tiny little baby." He smiles, thrusting into you without relent. Your womb stops him from going in any further, your insides torn apart deliciously at the feeling of being ploughed by him. "Oh- G- oh God," words fail you, the air choked out of your lungs with how good it hurts, with how pleasureful it feels.
Suguru's hand laced around your pelvis, pressing on it gently. "Got you," He smirks cockily, holding your hand and keeping it on your pelvis, enveloped by his own as he pressed.
A shrill scream filled the room, "Oh you can sense it, can't you sweetheart? Sense how deep I reach?" You moan at the pressure, pushing you closer and closer to the edge as you hopelessly nodded. Gasping and choking on air. "God yes, Sugu- AH please- oh my- g'nna," You whimpered, while Suguru was at a rhythmic pace now. Sometimes pulling all the way out and pushing back all the way in. He loved seeing you walk the rope between pleasure and pain.
"Good girl, with the way you're holding onto me, I can sense you're close." Suguru hummed, grounding you with his kisses, his spoiled little praises.
"Go on, show me how much you missed me."
"Just like (thrust) I (thrust) missed (thrust) this (thrust) pussy-" Suguru toppled off the edge right with you, painting your insides white with his warmth. "Oh god- fuck-"
You shudder, spasming around his cock and milking him further.
"That's it, I got you. I got you." Suguru reminded, leaning in and kissing you softly, tenderly, as if you'd break if he were to touch you wrong.
"I missed you, I missed this." He mused to himself, blushing a little at the sight of you fucked out and half-lidded. You nodded, still taking ragged breaths. "I love you"
"I love you too, Angel."
#geto suguru#geto x reader#geto angst#geto fluff#geto smut#jjk x reader#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk smut#jjk thirst#geto thirst#jjk comfort#geto comfort#geto x reader comfort#jjk x reader comfort#jjk x reader smut#geto x reader smut#geto x reader thirst#suguru geto#suguru x you#suguru x reader#jjk fanfic#geto fanfic#jjk imagines#geto suguru imagines#jjk kinktober#kinktober 3024#kinktober 2023#kinktober jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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red string theory || lotte wubben-moy x reader
summary: the first time you see lotte wubben moy, you didnt actually see her.
your life was always connected because you are meant to be.
warnings: none, just fluffy fluff with my lotte girl
from this request
a/n: i hope its okay what i wrote it about lotte because i thought this request is so lotte coded
wc: 1,739 words
"Are you nervous about tomorrow?" my work colleague, who is also my best friend, Jules, looks at me with a focused expression.
A few years ago, I attended college in the USA, where I ran my own sports blog for the university newspaper. I especially enjoyed writing about the women’s football team because I witnessed the sport gaining more popularity there.
It felt so empowering to see how all the girls were following their dreams, and I always wanted to share their stories so everyone could see their passion.
I was packing all my work stuff into my bag when Jules called out my name.
"Y/N, can you please help me real quick?"
I sighed but stopped what I was doing and walked into the salesroom.
"Can you make a latte macchiato real quick? Table 7 has a big order, and I’m swamped. Sorry for interrupting you," she said.
I smiled softly at her before glancing at the girl who had ordered the latte. I barely registered her, only noticing how graceful her movements were.
It felt kind of ironic that my last customer of the day would be such a mysterious woman.
But life moved on, as it always does, and that moment faded into the countless fleeting, insignificant encounters you never expect to think about again. Until much later.
----
"Oh my girl, Jules, you made it!" I pulled her into a tight hug.
"Of course! It's your graduation today! I'm so proud of you, my little nerd."
After three years of hard work, endless studying, and way too much crying, I’m finally done. I’m now a certified sports journalist with a focus on women’s football. I couldn’t be happier.
"Now it’s time for you to introduce me to your girlfriend! I can’t wait to meet the mysterious Alessia in person."
Her smile grew even wider as I mentioned her girlfriend. "Come on, she’s right over there, chatting with an old friend from university she randomly ran into here."
----
I’ve checked my phone. 8:00. I arrived at the training ground of THE Arsenal Women’s Football Club.
When I sent my application to a few football clubs as a media coordinator, I never thought my childhood club would hire me. I spent the last few days looking for an outfit and stayed awake the whole night out of nervousness.
It’s already my second week, and I’m still not used to being around all these inspiring and energizing women. You weren’t exactly starstruck, but there was something about being around people you’d admired from afar that left you feeling slightly unsteady.
But it’s different with Lotte. From day one, she helped me with everything. Lotte, however, had a way of disarming you with her easy demeanor. When she introduced herself, it was as if you hadn’t spent the last three days binge-watching match highlights featuring her perfect tackles and precise passes.
Over the weeks, you got used to seeing her around the training ground. She always made an effort to say hi, even if it was just a quick wave or a casual “How’s it going?” Each interaction was brief, professional, and—you told yourself—entirely inconsequential. Except that, somehow, you found yourself looking forward to them.
She had this smile and the way she cared about everyone around her that sticks in my mind, and I can’t stop thinking about her even after work. It’s like we’ve known each other for years.
---
Today was Media Day, and even though I love the girls, I was relieved to have a moment for myself in the cafeteria. Suddenly, someone asked, 'May I join?' At first, I didn’t realize they were talking to me, but when my eyes met my favorite defender's, I knew Lotte was the one addressing me.
'Not at all,' I replied, gesturing to the empty seat.
I don’t want to admit it, but knowing I wasn’t paired up with Lotte for today’s interviews made me a bit sad. That’s why I’m even happier to spot her here during my little break.
She set down her tray, which held a steaming bowl of soup and a sandwich that looked far too healthy for my taste. 'So, how’s life in the media world? Still surviving?'
I chuckled at her words. 'It’s going well. After today, I have a lot of videos to edit, and I still write a blog for a college newspaper, with the deadline coming up, so I’m a bit stressed. The time difference with the USA makes it even harder. But who am I complaining to? I’m sure your schedule is even more packed.' I babbled, feeling a bit embarrassed that I hadn’t stopped talking. It was just a simple question—no need to turn it into a whole essay.
She listened closely the entire time, trying to keep up with me. "Really? You’re very ambitious about your job. I like that. You mentioned the USA. Are you writing for an American college?"
I felt seen, and it made me feel special. I adore her so much. I gathered my thoughts again to answer her.
"Yes! I went to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and have always had a passion for writing. They had a women’s football team that was still in its early stages. They inspired me so much that I decided to write about them in the weekly college newspaper. Sorry for beating around the bush, yes, I write for an American college." My cheeks turned red because, once again, I rambled on.
I noticed the sudden change in her behavior. "Wait, really?" She looked at me, kind of stunned and questioning. "I’ve been to UNC too, before signing professionally for Arsenal. Do you mean the North Carolina Tar Heels? I played for them while you were writing for them."
I widened my eyes in disbelief. "That caught me off guard—wow. We’ve been so close and never talked to each other."
“It’s like we were orbiting each other,” she said one day, her voice thoughtful. “Like we were always meant to meet, but the timing just wasn’t right.”
Her words stuck with me, replaying in my mind long after she’d said them.
---------
Over the next few weeks, sometimes Lotte would bring me a coffee. A few days later, I noticed something as she handed me the cup. "Since when do you get your coffee from that shop near Covent Garden? The one with the green awning?" She looked confused and stuttered, "Since forever. It's my favorite coffee shop. Do you know it?"
"Are you joking? I worked there a few years ago."
“I can’t believe this. It’s like we’ve been circling each other our whole lives.”
This connection with Lotte feels so magical, I can’t even process how life always seemed to bring us together.
“Maybe it’s fate,” you said softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
She smiled, a slow, knowing smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Maybe it is.”
-------
As the weeks turned into months, your relationship with Lotte continued to grow stronger. The bond you shared deepened, built on a foundation of shared history and the undeniable pull you felt toward each other.
One evening, as you sat on her couch with a cup of tea in hand, she reached over and intertwined her fingers with yours.
“You know,” she said softly, her voice quiet, “I’ve always believed in timing. That everything happens when it’s meant to.”
You looked at her, your heart full. “And what about us? What does this timing mean?”
She smiled, her eyes warm and steady. “It means we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.”
And for the first time, you believed her.
#arsenal#woso community#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso#lotte wubben moy#lotte wubben moy imagine#lotte wubben moy x reader#lotte wubben moy fluff#woso x y/n#woso fanfics#woso appreciation#woso fluff
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Hyper-dependent
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Okay, this was a request, and I feel like I'm slowly getting my flow back. Sorry to say, but I have deleted some of the requests because I just didn't feel motivated to do them. This doesn't mean that I'll stop! I appreciate every one I get, and I hope to receive more as time goes on.
This one is quite angsty, and deals with Josh's trauma after the mountain. Yes, you are basically emotional support. You're dating, he feel bad (of course) and nightmares regularly haunt him. There's also smut because of the request (and some people cope that way I guess). Anyways, enjoy <3
The events of the cabin were long over, and luckily, everyone survived. I don’t know how, and I didn’t think we would, but somehow, it happened. Josh was stuck down in the mines for a while. Days… I wasn’t allowed to search for him with the professionals, but I was the first one who got to see him at the hospital. His parents arrived shortly after as well, and they were glad that he was okay. He moved home for a couple of weeks, but came back in with me when the health professionals told him it was possible. I couldn’t wait. They told me it would be a lot of work, and sometimes, he has really bad days. I understood their concern, but I wanted him, I wanted him back. And maybe getting back to the usual routine would do him good?
They were right. The days that were bad were horrible. Hours upon hours of crying and screaming. He exhausted himself at the end, finally falling into my arms and falling asleep. I knew he still mourned his sisters, but the monsters upon that mountain made him terrified. Sometimes he hid a knife under the bed, paranoid that they’d come for him. I still did my best to help him, even though I struggled myself. These events affected all of us after all. That’s what made it worse, I couldn’t even talk to them about it. They struggled as well, and many just wanted to put the events behind them.
***
“I fucked up” Josh whispers beside me. It’s the middle of the night, and due to his violent sleep, I haven’t been able to relax.
“It’s okay” I put my hand on his cheek, caressing carefully and grounding him. The most important thing is that he stays grounded, that he doesn’t do worse in a panicky state.
“What if they come for me? What if they come for you?”
“They won’t, I promise”
He looks up at me, worried and concerned. He doesn’t seem that bad now. More like in a processing phase. He just needs some reassurance.
“Are you sure”
I smile, grabbing the hem of my t-shirt. Well, Josh’s shirt, but it was the perfect sleeping wear. If he needed reassurance, then he would get it. After all, I was not supporting the whole ‘being prepared for death’-thing he had going. I could sleep in a vulnerable position, confident that nothing would happen while I did. I mean, it makes sense in my head.
“I’m so sure that I’ll sleep naked. Know why?”
“Because they’re not coming tonight?”
“Exactly”
I fully take off the top, before leaning down on his chest and pulling the covers over us. His heart is beating rapidly, and I rub soft circles over his bicep, trying to calm him.
“You got hurt”
“But I’m fine now”
“I hurt you, I can never forgive myself for that” his voice breaks, silence following. We’ve been through this thing many times, but I understand why he isn’t letting it go. If I hurt him like that, the guilt would probably kill me.
“You couldn’t have known what was on that mountain”
“But I hurt you, I planned to hurt you”
“And I forgive you”
I lean upwards, giving him a small kiss. We could have this conversation a million times, and a million times I would say the same thing. I love him, and I forgive him.
He turns, laying over me and capturing my lips again. This time it’s deeper, more passionate and rough. I break it off.
“Josh, I don’t think we should do this in your state”
“Please, just let me feel you”
I oblige, pulling him down on me again. I caress his back, feeling the tensed up muscles under my fingertips. He needs to relax, to take a breath. His hand grabs my upper hips, groping harshly. The pain makes me wince, and he uses the opportunity to put his tongue in my mouth, exploring my insides. I already feel myself getting wet. We’ve been having sex, on his good days at least, and there weren’t many of them nowadays.
He grabs hold of my thigh, pulling my leg up as he grinds against me. He’s incredibly hard, and I wonder why. We just talked about the mountain, about me being hurt, about me being in pain…
Our breaths line up, both of our pulses skyrocketing. He kisses down my chest, stomach and my inner thighs. He leaves rough bites, red marks which will probably last for days. Before the incident, we’d always been rough and hard when being intimate with each other, but after, he’d been much more careful, treating me like I was made of porcelain, afraid that a small nail mark would hurt me. Now, he goes against everything we’d been doing for the last months, and I love it.
I look down, only to be met with his piercing gaze as he slowly drags my underwear off, throwing it on the floor. He holds the intense eye contact while lowering himself, his tongue coming in contact with my folds. I let out a breath, whining from his small touches. He’s barely touching me, knowing that the teasing will get me even wetter.
“Josh…”
He doesn’t answer, instead putting more pressure on me, resulting in more pleasurable sounds escaping my lips. I feel my core building up, body getting warmer, and nipples getting harder. I’m right on the edge, begging to be let free when he stops. I whine from the sudden lack of contact.
He drags off his boxers, revealing himself. He doesn’t give me time to take him in, instead leaning over me, hands roaming my body. I’m wondering if he’s falling apart, if he wants to stop. I sit up, hand going to his face. Before I’m able to reach him, both of my ankles are gripped, tugging me down, leading to my back slamming down on the mattress again. I yelp, unsure about his next step.
But he doesn’t waste time. His dick is running up and down my folds, begging to be let inside. He slams into me, everything at once. I give out a loud moan, a mixture of pain and pleasure surrounding me as he starts moving. He goes almost all out before slamming in again, making low grunt sounds as he breathes. The rhythmic pattern of his movements are mirrored by the sounds coming out of me. Endless tunes of moans and whimpers filling the dark bedroom.
My heat starts building up again, taking me to the edge. I grip the sheets as I try to hold on a little more, wanting to come together. My body bounces back and forth on the mattress, my hand going over my head to stop it from slamming into the bedframe. He massages my thighs roughly, causing me to fall over. I come all over his cock whilst feeling high on ecstasy. My legs automatically squeeze around his torso, and it doesn’t take long for him to come after. He fills me up, slowly going out before falling on top of me.
His face is wet, tears flowing as he nuzzles into the crook of my neck. He tries to mask the whimpers and hulks coming out, but ultimately fails. I put my arms around him, one going into his hair. I stroke up and down his back, hoping to calm him.
“Are you okay?” I ask, trying to calm myself after my high.
“Please just let me feel you a bit more” he manages to say, arms going around my waist, hugging and holding me down. I kiss his forehead, fingers still combing through his hair.
“I’m here Josh. I’ll always be here”
#until dawn#joshua washington#josh washington#josh washington x reader#josh washington x reader smut#until dawn josh#josh until dawn#josh washington smut#josh washington imagines#josh washington until dawn#joshua washington x reader smut#joshua washington smut#joshua washington x reader#until dawn x reader#until dawn oneshots#until dawn remaster#until dawn remake
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ok this is the video i mentioned, like imagine könig in this, i want to tie his hands and feet and make a mess out of him :((( imagine him crying out of frustration that he can't touch you (and he makes a mental note to punish you as soon as he gets released), so overwhelmed and trying to scape the entire time, so cute :(( you make the context, my brain isn't creative enough to think of how we end up in this situation. sorry if i misspelled something and again i love your blog it's amazing !!*:! also i'm sorry if this make you unconfortable somehow idk?
Enemy pt 1
pt 2
TW: porn
and I strike again with another questionable scenario
this is just... I... uhm... well...
there's no such thing as crossing the limits with me I'm a fucking whore
Summary: you interrogate an enemy soldier in a different approach.
Word Count: 1,5k
Warnings: smut, König x female!reader, they're both a bit crazy, male overstimulation, edging, knife play (if you squint), glove kink, no use of y/n
masterlist
Recently, your team had brought an enemy for interrogation, and you were the one assigned to get the job done.
"Make him talk, we don't care how." They said.
You got in the cell, hands sweating nervously as you saw the man you were dealing with. You've met before, a long while ago, and he didn't change a thing. He's still arrogant, like he wasn't far within a hostile environment, his hands and feet in chains, in a cell that has never seen daylight. The only thing in the room being the chair he was sitting on and a fucked up mattress.
You crossed your arms as you entered the room, not knowing if he was able to recognize you from the mask you wore. But your voice, he could never forget the sweet melody of your voice moaning his name a few years ago when he fucked you senseless at an abandoned house, in the middle of war.
It happened fast, you were sweeping the place and he was there. You missed your shot when he pushed your gun upwards and tried to strangle you, but soon backed down when saw you were a defenseless damsel in distress.
And you found yourself pressed against a wall being fucked by an enemy soldier, just because he felt like it.
You try to shake off the thoughts that creep on your dirty brain, and as soon as the door gets locked behind you, his body relaxes on the chair.
"So, we meet again." He cleared his throat. Pretentious prick.
"König." You start, raising your eyebrows. "I guess you won't be using your free will to tell me what the code is, will you?" You walked towards him, he was still tall, even when he was sunk on the chair with his legs spreaded.
"My free will has better things to do than to hand out codes like candy at a parade. I prefer keeping my secret to myself. Yours too." You could feel the creepy smile that lit up his face. How could you ever do that to yourself?
"They won't believe you." You shrug, slowly walking from side to side on the cell, arms behind your back, your heavy boots hitting the concrete floor. "They're too busy torturing your general for info." His eyes widened and he straightened himself on the chair, tensing up. "So, what are you hiding, pretty boy?"
He flexed his muscles in response, trying to get rid of the chains that kept him restrained. But the praise, coming from your lips, it was impossible for him to contain an enormous wave of heat that destroyed any ounce of self respect he had. He lowered his head, but looked at you through his eyebrows.
"I assume we'll have to do this the hard way then." You took the knife from your belt and stood in front of him, running it along his collarbone and stopping at his chin, lifting it up. "Such a beautiful pair of eyes you got, 'wonder what you hide behind that hood." You say, lifting the fabric of his mask.
"Gonna use flirting as your way to get around this?" He chuckles, looking away.
"I'm offended." You fake a gasp and hold a hand to your chest. "Wasn't that what you did to me?" You're just able to get a laugh from him.
"You wanted that to happen." He looked at your eyes again.
"And you're wanting, too." You stick the knife in the wooden chair between his legs and he jolts in panic.
"Fuck, are you insane?" He looks down and at you again, and you laugh.
You crouch in front of him, spreading his legs further, and laying your elbow on his thigh. The tip of your finger touches the end of your knife and plays with it, watching how his thighs tense.
"I might be." You say, looking at him. "But I always get what I want."
"You're fucking crazy." He chuckles and looks to the sides, trying to contain his embarrassment as a bulge slowly shows up on his pants.
You take the knife from the chair and put it on your belt again, moving your gloved hands towards his belt and pulling him up. He's heavy as fuck, it was almost impossible to do it if he didn't stand up, towering over you.
You pushed him back, and because of his feet tangled in chains, he fell back on the mattress, bucking his hips up as you eagerly unfastened his belt.
"You weren't this straightforward when we first met." He chuckled and looked up.
"What can I say? 'Guess your taste is addictive." You remembered the bitter taste of his release when he ruthlessly fucked your throat back in that house.
You pulled his hard member out, lifting your mask just below your nose to spit on it, and he whines as you wrap your gloved hand around it, jerking it up and down slowly. He pleads, trying to fuck your hand, but you pull away chuckling and he sighs.
"Let's make a deal, shall we?" You ran your finger along his length, stopping at his tip.
"I won't talk." He gritted his teeth.
"Then you won't cum." You give him a sly smile as you pull the mask down again.
Your hand grabs his dick, jerking it roughly, and he can't help but whine as he tries to get away from your touch. He's so desperate it's pathetic, and he moans as you set the pace.
He tries to move, to get away from the chains, he thinks about how bad he wants to be free and pin you down on the mattress and fuck you until you're begging him to stop, knowing he wouldn't stop until he was satisfied.
Your touch becomes too much on him, almost too harsh to bear, and he cries as he feels his cock throbbing as hard as it could, knowing that he wouldn't last long if you kept going this way.
And suddenly, as he's about to cum, you pull away again, leaving him whimpering at the sudden loss of contact.
"Fuck, why did you do this?" He whines desperately.
"It's simple, you give me what I want and I'll give you what you want." You shrug, grabbing his member once again and going fast on it. He cries, feeling his high approaching once again.
"I'm not talking." He shakes uncontrollably.
"Aww, stubbornness only turns me on." You say. He's too overwhelmed to think about an answer, trying to get away from your grip.
You feel his body tensing up again, his hips bucking up, chasing his so wanted release. Your hand keeps its pace, but your other one blocks his tip just as he's about to cum, watching his vein twitch. He's crying and cursing at you in german, his heavy balls filled with cum as he was being denied once again.
"Come on, I'm not gonna let go until you tell me, and it's only gonna hurt more." You say, letting his dick fall back to his stomach, and one of your hands grabs his balls. He's still shaking, completely overstimulated, and you use your thighs to make him stay put.
"I only know part of it, alright?" It comes out high pitched as his voice cracks, you could feel the pain in his eyes. "The general too, and your team is going to need more than just us for the full code if you want to stop that damn operation." It's almost impossible to understand his german accent at how fast he speaks, his chest rising up and down.
His cock twitches, his tip was red and leaking, and you decide that's probably all that he's going to say, and plus you needed him for his part of the code.
"That's it, please, maus, it's hurting." He cries. Maybe he deserved to get his award now.
"Such a good boy you are, huh, see? It wasn't hard." You stroke his dick, the praise enough to make him see stars.
As you increase your movements, he becomes a whimpering mess once again, and deep in his brain he's thinking of how pretty you would look with his cock buried in your pussy, and how bad he will ruin you once he has his hands on you.
It's too much to take, he's trembling, making it hard for you to keep him still. And he can't hold back any longer, his thick cum spouting on your gloves and his shirt.
"Maus, please, stop." He pleads, his body giving in. You clean your gloves on his clothed thighs and get up, leaving him there, covered in white. You stand there, looking down at him and his softening length, and slowly walk towards the door. "Where are you going? Don't leave me like this."
You knock two times on the door and one of your men unlocks it. You open it, looking back at König, still there, still messy, still panting and angry, spitting out as you leave.
"You're gonna pay for this."
#cod mw2#cod fanfic#cod mwii#cod modern warfare#cod x reader#konig x reader#konig#konig call of duty#konig mw2#konig cod#könig mwii#könig smut#könig x reader#könig cod#könig#könig mw2#könig call of duty
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slow motion, double vision - [w.scobell]
wordcount: 0.8K
warnings: self harm (reader)
requested: yes!
a/n: please do not read this if you struggle with self harm and won’t feel comfortable reading about it (it’s not described at all and reader doesn’t do it in this but it’s said that she has and a brief description of her wrist is also in this. don’t read this if you aren’t going to cope with that. and if you are struggling w self harm, reach out to me, please!! <3)
Another day on the Percy Jackson set. Today, we are filming a scene between Percy and Annabeth, an argument.
Walker gives me a grin once he’s finished up with the makeup crew. “Hey, you,” he says with an easy smile.
I try to replicate it. Walker has this gift. He’s so good at it. At everything. Life, acting, smiling.
All the things I struggle with.
“Hey,” I say back. “Looking good.”
“Says you.” He gives me an appreciative look. “My girlfriend looks adorable.”
I immediately get flustered. No matter how many days I’m dating Walker for, I think him calling me his girlfriend will always make me flutter inside.
“I'm not your girlfriend anymore,” I joke. “I’m Annabeth Chase, Seaweed Brain.”
He grins. “See you out there.”
As soon as he’s gone, my heart sinks again. It’s like he’s the only thing in the world that brings any kind of light to my darkness. The only smile on my sad face. The only sweet words I can say.
“The chair is the bargain,” Walker, as Percy, says. “One of us goes in, the other gets the shield.”
“I’ll do it,” I say, stepping forward, a determined look on my face.
“What? What a minute!” Walker reaches over and grabs my wrist. A flicker of pain crosses my features, but quick as lighting, I go back into character, hoping he didn’t notice.
“Whoever goes in isn’t coming out!” I say, my voice rising a little at the end.
“I know, that’s why I said wait.”
“This isn’t the arch, Seaweed Brain,” I snap in response.
“Cut!” someone yells, and I instantly break character, as does Walker.
The directing team is talking amongst themselves, which is usually a sign for us to just chat and wait for them to be ready to film again.
“Hey,” Walker comes close to me, his voice quiet. “Are you okay?”
I look at him, feigning a frown. “Course I’m okay. Why?”
He looks concerned, his blue eyes staring deep into mine. “You flinched just now. When I grabbed you.”
“Oh,” I laugh, which comes out so brittle I almost wince. “Nah, it’s all good. Just acting.” I’m brushing him off, and he knows that.
“I’m gonna grab a drink,” I tell him, and disappear before he can argue with me about it.
He finds me in the bathrooms. I’m standing over a sink, gripping the sides like a dramatic Draco Malfoy-wannabe. I have tears in my eyes, but the second I hear someone behind me, I brush them away.
“Y/n?” Walker asks quietly. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
I can’t answer, his sweet words just making me want to cry harder. I can only shake my head.
He buries me in a hug, his chin on top of my head, and his arms encircling me tightly. “Love,” he says again, speaking softly into my hair, “tell me what’s wrong.”
“Walker, I—“ I cannot bring myself to say the words, so I pull back from the hug, and pull up the sleeve of my Annabeth jacket. Across the inside of my left wrist are stripes of harsh red, jagged and fresh.
Walker’s eyes shatter, a million emotions and words and thoughts all inside their clear blue at once. His mouth opens a little.
“Y/n—“
“I’m sorry,” I blurt. “I’m so so sorry.”
He immediately folds me back into his arms. “You have no reason to be sorry,” he says roughly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you feel this awful about yourself. I’m so sorry you felt like you had no other choice. But please—“ I can tell by his voice that he’s upset. Somehow, that makes me feel even worse.
“Please come talk to me before you do something like that,” he whispers.
“Okay,” I manage.
“Do you promise?” he asks, his voice ragged.
“I promise on the River Styx.”
I feel his smile through my hair. “I love you.”
I smile too, his warmth and love spreading through me like an antidote. “I love you too, Walk.”
He pulls away from the hug, his fingertips brushing the broken skin of my wrist as lightly as he can. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get this cleaned and dressed properly, okay?”
I let him take me by the hand, and for the first time in my life, I feel completely and totally safe and understood.
With him.
#walker scobell#percy jackson#pjo#fanfiction#fanfic#pjo show#pjo tv show#pjo series#walker scobell fanfic#walker scobell x reader#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson fanfiction#percy jackson and the olympians
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This Comfort
T | 4.5k words | ao3 | Stobissy (Platonic stobin x Chrissy) | canon divergent season 4 rewrite, pre-relationship, hurt/comfort, happy ending, weird-as-shit stobin | cws: referenced eating disorder, implied depression, implied suicidal ideation, referenced drugs
happy holidays @stellarspecter !!! hows it feel to be THE reason i like this rarepair so much that i had to hold myself back from trying to do a whole chrissy lives s4 rewrite? I tried to be subtle but i also just HAD to reread your stuff while brainstorming this, hope you like it!!! 💕💕💕
<< betaed by @kikidoesfanfic im so sorry idk how i forgot to credit your help but god you helped so much thank you dhmxhmxngdng
also dividers by @/saradika-graphics >>
Chrissy kind of wants to cry.
Her body always seems to want to do that at the first hint of peace she can find. In a bathroom stall, at the rotting picnic table behind the school, and now in the basement at Nancy Wheeler’s house, surrounded by still, sleeping bodies. She can’t help but find their presence soothing, even if their warmth doesn’t reach the cold vinyl of her sleeping bag, even if the gentle rhythm of their breathing can’t be heard over the sound of Olivia Newton-John’s voice clogging her ears.
Would the song even work if she got sick of hearing it so much? Can any song keep her safe if she keeps associating music with life-or-death?
Chrissy’s supposed to be sleeping, or supposed to be trying, at least. But she can’t hear the huffs, can’t feel any warmth, can’t even smell over the stench of highschool boy’s body spray— so Chrissy doesn’t try to sleep, even if she has a comparatively easy song to fall asleep to. She just watches, still as if she were out like they are, watching those tiny movements in the bodies around her.
Chests rise and fall slowly, languid unlike any other moment from the day. Some people twitch or stir—just barely—as their bodies dream, hopefully of something far removed from everything that’s happening now. It’s only half the room in her line of sight, but something about watching even just a part of the life around her makes it easier to feel the rest of it there.
It’s nice. Really nice, compared to the past twenty-four hours. And for some twisted reason, that makes tears prick at Chrissy’s eyes.
Her song starts again, a rhythmic melody that had made her sway in her seat the first dozen times she listened to it today. A melody that somehow—even after literal hours of hearing it over and over and over and over and over—still takes her to a time unblemished enough to keep her from letting Vecna end it all.
The beginning instruments all cut off so Olivia can start singing, new instruments coming in to replace them, but they’re not the same. Chrissy swallows, but a tear still falls, tickling her skin down towards her ear before it stops, falling and soaking into the flattened pillow that smells like the same musty body spray as the rest of this cruddy basement.
“Chrissy,” a voice whispers from behind her, said like it isn’t the first time they’ve called, barely audible over her music. Chrissy pushes up slightly, just enough to look behind her, to find Steve sitting up and keeping watch on the couch, leaning towards Chrissy as much as he can with Robin sleeping on his lap. His eyes stay focused on her through the dark, looking maybe for rolled back eyes or waiting for her to start muttering in tongues, but Chrissy only looks back and waits.
“You okay?” he whispers through the dark, again just barely loud enough. Chrissy nods to him, and turns down her music a notch or two.
Steve keeps looking like she never responded. Maybe—hopefully—because it's too dark to see and not because he expects a different answer with enough waiting. Chrissy swallows a lump in her throat, and answers again.
“I'm okay.”
Steve hears her—he has to—but he keeps looking at her that same way. Attentive, and a little on edge.
Chrissy slides one side of her headphones off her ear so she can hear her own whispers.
“I’m fine, I promise.” She says, loud enough that he has to hear her—or believe her—yet still low enough to mask the way her throat tightens around the words.
Steve hums, a soft thing that blends with the sounds of the room, but Chrissy can make it out.
“Come up here.” He whispers, nodding over to the small sliver of couch left next to him, just big enough to fit her. Or, big enough if she were like Robin and could just half-lay on pretty people without feeling electricity seize her body from head to toe. Chrissy opens her mouth to politely decline and save both of them the awkwardness, but Steve picks that moment to look away—look down to Robin—and lift her ever so slightly, ever so gently, to scoot them over and make the space next to him more comfortable.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Chrissy whispers but finds herself getting up anyway, padding over quietly as Steve settles, Robin slumping back down onto his lap without stirring.
“It’s no big deal,” He mutters, a soft smile pulling at his lips, still looking down at Robin, “She sleeps like the dead like this.”
Chrissy hums, and Steve looks up.
“Or– like a baby, I guess is a better word for it right now.”
“It’s fine.” Chrissy insists, taking a seat next to him, settling into the corner with a respectable distance between them– a distance that the rest of her doesn’t seem to pick up on, unfortunately, but respectable at the very least.
Steve hums and watches her, trying to do it subtly out of the corner of his eye, but even just a day around the real Steve is enough for her to know what worry looks like on him.
Fortunately for her, he doesn’t push. And when Chrissy busies herself with getting comfortable in her new couch corner, Steve looks away, absently combing through Robin’s hair as he plays casual.
“Rough sleeping with music always in your ears?” Steve asks, a lightness of humor there that she wishes was the only thing tied to that question.
“Not too bad, actually.” she says, pairing it with a little smile and hoping it’ll convince them both that she’s alright. “Especially out of all the other songs from Grease. The walkman itself is probably more annoying.”
“Yeah, my ears do not envy you there.” Steve huffs, smiling a little, making Chrissy’s smile come a little easier before they both run out of things to say and the levity falls off both their faces. Chrissy’s dropping faster with no eyes on her to keep up the charade for, while Steve’s falls slowly, slips into neutral as he gets caught up in thought once again.
Chrissy gets to keep a few moments to herself before she catches Steve glancing at her again through the corner of her eye. She pretends not to notice, holds her neutrality for a few nauseating seconds before she sighs, closing her eyes and drawing her knees to her chest in a way that turns the subtle glance into full-force attention.
“Do you think…” She starts, but finds the words stopping before they can get out of her head. Does he think she’ll die? Obviously he’s not going to tell her if he does.
“Eh, sometimes.” Steve answers, shrugging lightly in a way that's playful but not flippant enough to derail the conversation.
Chrissy huffs from the tinge of amusement, then tries again.
“Have you wondered what would happen if we got tired of our songs?”
“Not yet, to be honest. But I figure we’d try to find new ones.” He says, quick enough that it feels like a simple answer to him. But even still he considers it, even if it’s just to show her he’s taking her worries seriously. “I mean, if the whole point is picking a song that reminds you about what’s good in life, I’d figure there’s got to be at least a decent handful of them that’d work.”
Chrissy hums, resting her head onto her knees as she considers. It feels like a simple enough thing, just find songs that remind you of good things, but as she combs through the library in her head, she’s not sure she has as many of those as the others do. Or at the very least, not ones that haven't been sullied by other memories or the things she’s learned since then. Birthday parties with a Chrissy that didn’t think twice about what was in those cakes, sleepovers with girls that had a lot more to say in the halls than they did in their bedrooms. She should count herself lucky that out of all the songs she had loved, she still had one of her favorites.
Though she supposes she should also count herself lucky for even being alive right now. If circumstances were different, she might’ve genuinely felt it.
“To be honest, I’m more worried about how Max doesn’t seem bothered by listening to the same thing nonstop.” Steve chimes in again, that sweet little note of humor back, and though it still makes her smile—truly smile, at both the humor and the intent behind it—it can’t fully lift her out of the headspace she keeps crawling into.
Still Chrissy hums along with him, the sweetness she puts into her voice just as erosive as the added sugars she keeps an eye out for.
“The magic of a really good artist, I guess.”
“Maybe. Though I know I’d still get tired of it no matter who’s voice I’m blasting.” Steve replies, tone light as if he didn’t notice how fake her tone was, and just that thought grants Chrissy an ounce of real levity.
“Even Freddie Mercury.” Chrissy asks with teasing scrutiny.
“I plead the fifth.” Steve smiles mischievously, and when Chrissy raises a suspicious eyebrow at him, he lets out a small but genuine laugh that Chrissy wants to mirror desperately.
Steve hushes himself quickly enough, but Robin still stirs in his lap, groaning and tucking her face down into the denim of Steve’s jeans as if they were somehow comfortable enough to put her back to sleep. But then again, Chrissy figures they don’t have to be, as Steve’s hand finds it’s way back to her hair again, carding his fingers gently and intentionally as Robin stills and soon returns to slow, sedated breathing.
Steve sighs, not tense or aggravated, just restful, like the mood of before was so calm that any change in it counted as disturbance. And then within seconds, he’s back, glancing once over to Chrissy again before looking back at Robin as he continues.
“Rob’s probably the type to be fine listening to most of her music over and over.” He hums, “Not that she needs it. The second she even thought that music might be it she shoved all the tapes she could find into her bag—including our manager’s, actually—”
“Your manager’s?”
“Yeah, Keith’s in for a bit of a surprise soon.” Steve laughs again, “Point is, though,” Steve looks back at her with a new, almost concerning level of sincerity once again veiled as small-talk. “Robin has a pretty good stash of other music in her bag and I’ve got a handful in the glovebox, too, so if you want to pick a couple backups to keep on you…” He shrugs instead of finishing with any extra nod to the favor he’s offering, and Chrissy’s conscience appreciates the discretion.
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” she mutters, figuring at the very least that it wouldn’t hurt to look, maybe pick a couple that’d sound nice, even if she doubts anything from after 79’ would spark any good memories, the thought itself is sweet enough to make her sincerely grateful. “Thank you.”
“‘Course. It’s all up to you, just know it's an option.”
Chrissy hums and nods, not really wanting to continue the conversation but also lacking anything else to start talking about next.
Really, she only gets a few seconds to think about it before Steve’s glancing her way again, eyes lingering to study her and somehow sneaking inside towards the softest parts of her, all right under her nose.
“You’re doing good, y’know?” Steve says, quiet as anything else they’ve said tonight, but Chrissy finds it deafening. “This shit sucks… so much. But your still here, still sticking together, still keeping up with the kids—which, believe me, is a feat in of itself.” He huffs to himself, before glancing back to Chrissy with raw compassion. “I know all of it’s… smothering, almost. Too big and too stressful, but you’re doing great, alright? And we’re gonna make it work out.”
He’s lying, obviously, Chrissy hasn’t done jack-shit and Steve just wants to make her feel better– so Chrissy nods—on reflex, almost—because she knows to take a compliment—to take comfort—when it's being given to her. She knows so she nods and tries to just take Steve’s words with a polite smile and a polite nod but–
Her eyes water and tears fall too fast, too many goddamned tears coming and spillingout and she tries—God, she tries— to keep them back and to smile and show him it worked, shes good now, thank you—but she’s failing, failing miserably, so she falls back on breathing– breathing normally and praying he can’t see her crying through the dark–
“Chrissy, I mean it.” Steve says, with the softness of sincerity that—regardless of whether she believes him or not—breaks through the last of her defenses, letting a small, pitiful sound choke its way out of her throat.
“Chris–”
Chrissy stands—giving up on looking okay in favor of being quiet—and wipes her face, looking around for the bathroom door that Nancy said would be down here.
“Chrissy, hey–” Steve whispers, a hand finding her arm gently—not grabbing, just touching—and while it tempts her so heavily, instinct leads her away.
“It’s fine– don’t wake Robin–” Chrissy chokes on her own words and aborts, going towards the bathroom, ignoring Steve trying to whisper-call after her, ignoring how he whispers to himself before the couch squeaks, ignoring his footsteps coming up until they’re right behind her– and Chrissy stops and flings around and–
Turning catches Steve off guard—enough to stop him a foot or so away—and makes him retract an outstretched arm.
“Chrissy, it’s okay.” Steve insists, struggling for words to say next and doing nothing to keep it from taking over his face. “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”
“Stop.” Chrissy says– tries to say, even though it comes out wet and weak and crackly– “You’re fine, I promise–”
It doesn’t sound final but it’s all Chrissy can get out—is all that she really needs to. Tears keep coming like she’s a broken faucet and Steve’s still standing there—already knows she’s crying and isn’t going to ignore it—so she just covers her face with her hands, cold fingers cooling unruly flames of embarrassment, and tries catching her breath.
“Wha’s…?”
Chrissy doesn’t try to recognise the voice, just jolts up at the new sound and finds Robin up and walking towards them, going slow and rubbing her face like a rough morning.
“Rob, now’s not–”
“Are you crying?” Robin says as she drops her hand and gets a barely decent look at Chrissy, voice sounding suddenly wide awake, face skipping confusion and going straight to concern as she turns to check Steve next, “Are you– no, no you're– ok, good, so–” She turns back to Chrissy within another blink. “Are you okay? Or– no, stupid question.”
“No,” Chrissy says, but then Robin’s eyes flash with guilt, “No, no, I– not stupid question, I’m okay, I promise, I–”
“That’s debatable.” Steve interrupts, as kindly as he probably can.
“I am.” Chrissy says before heaving a massive breath and pushing her hands across her face again, all to get herself in any way capable of explaining, “It’s not your fault– or yours, or anyones! I’m not mad or sad or upset or anything– I’m just crying!” Chrissy pauses for another breath, then finishes—with more control than before— “Just crying. And crying in front of people is embarrassing, so…”
Steve and Robin both stay silent, gears turning trying to figure out what to say or do next, and while Chrissy does feel a little bad, a small part of her says they were asking for it.
“I cry a lot.” Robin says, in what seems like a reflex at first, but she keeps going even after she seems to realize what she’s saying, “I cry all the time, like, constantly– or not actually really that frequently but when I do it’s like an absolute behemoth amount of crying, and I love crying– or well, maybe not– no actually I do, if I need to cry then I love to cry, just get it all out, y’know? And this whole thing—the end-of-the-world monster crisis thing—is like a really good reason to need to cry, the most understandable reason to cry—even Steve's cried about it!”
“Yes!” Steve confirms immediately, like he either somehow forgot or the detail didn't occur to him.
“And last time– okay I didn't really cry during it much last time because it felt like there was so much going on like all the time but the second we got Steve a hospital room and I could sit down next to him, I started bawling, like really ugly snotty sobbing, and I cried for, like, three hours straight and one of the nurses kept bringing me water so I wouldn't dehydrate and die because I actually could not stop crying and I didn’t even feel that sad, y’know? I had been way more upset in the middle of the whole thing but I didn’t cry once—”
“Just peed your pants a little.” Steve mutters, catching Chrissy off-guard and making Robin fling immediately over to wack his arm.
“You–” Robin says, pointing at him and scrambling for words, “And you shit your pants twenty minutes in!”
“I what?” Steve whisper-laughs, bordering on a dangerous volume again.
“Yeah, you shit yourself and you smelled so bad–” Robin starts breaking into giggles and struggling to keep her volume down, so Steve somehow decides that covering her mouth with his hand would help. It does, kinda, in that it muffles her laughs until she gets them under control and starts swatting him away.
They collect themselves together, clearly trying to keep attuned to Chrissy without directing the full force of attention on her, but as they both try to manage each other’s clumsiness Chrissy feels the pressure of conversation ease and is just left with Robin’s words and the care that both of them were trying to show. Chrissy wipes her face even though new tears still fall, and steels herself with another breath that finally comes easier than the last.
“Robin.” Chrissy says.
Robin stops, and before Chrissy can chicken out she dives forward and takes Robin into a hug.
Robin’s clearly caught off guard but recovers quickly and wraps her arms around Chrissy tight, leaning in with a cheek pressed into her hair, holding her immediately. Chrissy sobs a little for no good reason but Robin doesn’t let go, doesn’t ask again, just keeps holding on.
Instead of waiting ages for her tears to stop, Chrissy just lets go when her crying quiets down and she no longer feels the need to hide from the people holding her. Chrissy loosens her grip and Robin lets go right after, leaning back to check on her, breaking into a sweet, lopsided grin.
Another hand falls carefully onto her back, and when Chrissy turns around and finds Steve still there quietly trying to check in too, Chrissy lunges forward a second time. Steve holds her tight like Robin did– possibly even tighter as his shoulders curl around her frame, like she’s being tucked inside his chest, safe away from harm.
Chrissy kind of hates pulling away, but by the way both Steve and Robin stay close after letting go, Chrissy gets the feeling that it won’t be hard to get more of that affection from them.
“You ready to go back to the couch?” Robin asks.
Chrissy nods.
“Awesome,” Robin says, taking her hand and leading the way back eagerly, “Cause, like, I don’t know about you but I would love to be sleeping right now– and I don’t regret waking up, obviously, totally a good reason to wake up, I just also love getting a full night’s sleep–”
“Aw, poor Robin, not being asleep right now.” Steve teases, getting quieter as they get to the couch but still being loud enough to annoy Robin.
“Aw, poor Stevie, was already awake when things started happening and only had to wake up once in the middle of the night.” Robin whines back, taking a spot in the corner of the couch and pulling Chrissy down to sit with her.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re so funny, Robbie.” Steve smiles, not making a move to sit down with them. “Where’d you put your bag?”
“Why?”
“Wanna look at the tapes you have.”
“Steve, you don’t have to.” Chrissy
“‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, I just want to listen to– uh… Bowie. Obviously.”
Chrissy huffs, torn between the guilt of a favor and a rush of amusement, but couldn’t help but play along.
“And not your manager’s stellar music taste?”
“Steve!” Robin hissed, “You told her?”
“Yeah, what’s she gonna do? Keith’s gonna know.”
“We don’t know for sure!”
“Yeah we do, his walkman’s basically glued to him.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Not with you cause he likes you, but on a Tuesday close with me and I’d be lucky if he heard me dying.”
“Oh, I think he hears you just fine.” Robin laughs.
Steve sighs with a quick eye-roll before gesturing back to the room.
“Bag. Where?”
“Behind the trunk under the staircase.”
Steve looks at her incredulously but goes to find it, repeating her interesting choice of hiding place under his breath as he goes.
“Did something happen to your other tape?” Robin asks, turning and hitting her with the full force of her concern—and while Chrissy appreciates it, a lot, she needs to look away to relieve some of the pressure and calm some of the heat that hits her cheeks.
“No, no, it’s working fine, I just, uh… was worried I was going to get sick of listening to it all the time.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Robin nods and the intensity of her worry lessens considerably, replaced instead by an almost frantic kind of ramble, “Good as in, like, y’know, that it’s not broken and you’re just being extra cautious, I mean–”
“Yeah, it’s good.” Chrissy smiles, cherishing the way Robin smiles with relief as she realizes she’s being understood.
Robin’s eyes flick slightly to something behind Chrissy so she turns around, catching Steve as he gives a note to a recently awoken Nancy Wheeler and starts finding his way back to the couch around the minefield of sleeping teenagers on the floor. He stops right in front of the couch—in front of Chrissy—and kneels down to open the bag between them for her to see.
“Let Nance know about the new plan.” He mutters, probably softer than he has to, “If by some chance something does happen, she’ll know to try your old tape first.”
Chrissy looks up at his eyes for a moment before turning them down into the bag, impressively full of cassettes, some loose, some in their cases, but almost all of them well-loved. Chrissy reaches in and starts looking through the ones on top, some obviously Steve’s, some obviously Robin’s, some probably Keith’s, and a good many that have to be for both of them. She searches through them blankly for a few minutes before Steve and Robin try helping with suggestions.
“I think some of The Go-Go’s are in there.”
“Steve had ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’.”
“There’s definitely some Cyndi Lauper.”
“What was your old song again?” Robin asks.
“‘Hopelessly Devoted To You’. From Grease.”
Robin hums and stares into the bag. After a second, she starts picking handfuls of them out, picking each one intentionally but still grabbing more than enough for Chrissy to choose from until one catches her eye.
“Wait, wait, wait–”
Robin freezes, looking back to Chrissy with her arms still shoved in her bag, unmoving. Chrissy reaches over and picks up a tape that had already made it to Robin’s lap: a standard-looking cassette without its case and a couple of attempts at hearts drawn on it. It wasn’t the only cassette to have cute drawings—far from it—but it was the first one she saw with wonky hearts scribbled out then copied right next to it, like someone tried, failed, and then was told to bring their failure back instead of hiding it away.
She checks the other side. “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper.
“Steve gave that to me ages ago.” Robin hums, and Chrissy smiles, looking over at the other cassettes with little drawings on them.
“Was it the first one?”
“Second, technically, didn’t draw on Total Eclipse of the Heart until later.”
Chrissy nods, then looks up to Robin again.
“Would you mind…?”
“Oh, yeah, totally. I mean go for it. Worst case scenario: I’m still in touch with my dealer.” Robin jokes, making Steve snort as he stands and drops the bag over by the end of the couch.
Robin gets comfortable as Chrissy goes ahead and switches the tapes in her walkman, going to set her old one on a table nearby. When she turns back around, Robin is laying down on the couch, making grabby hands up towards Steve until he finishes his headcount and turns back around.
“What?” He laughs.
“Get over here, it’s my turn to be big.”
“Hm, if I have to.” Steve laughs and goes to settle with her before pausing and looking back over to Chrissy.
“You want on the couch, too?”
Chrissy goes over towards them and Steve smiles, taking that as her answer.
“We can leave you a spot if you want, or…”
Chrissy flushes but pointedly doesn’t take the offer for the separate spot on the couch, and luckily, Steve and Robin both figure out the answer without her having to say it.
Robin lays on her back half-propped up while Steve basically lays on top of her, spooning but with the little spoon on the verge of crushing the big spoon, but they seem more than content with it, Robin hugging Steve almost like a teddy bear. Steve gives Chrissy the go-ahead, so with her walkman in hand, she carefully takes the spot between him and the back of the couch. She brings the headphones up to her ears just as an arm comes around her back, the new melody fitting the new warmth she’s feeling deep down perfectly.
Chrissy lets one of her hands find Robin’s above her across the polo shirt pillow connecting them. Both the bodies laying with her relax, shifting slightly to get comfortable in their strange arrangement on the cramped couch, but the one thing that stays perfectly consistent is the slow rise and fall beneath her, the feather-light puffs tickling her hair, and the warmth of life enveloping her.
Chrissy knows it’s not perfect. The next few days will be far, far from kind to them. She knows that even when she wakes from this nightmare, she’ll just be stuck right back where she was before, working her ass off at cheer practice during the day and then begging their drug dealer for ketamine at night. The thought will probably never leave her mind.
But right now, Chrissy enjoys the new music playing in her ears, the familiar song with a man and a woman’s voices that feel uniquely alive right now, warm and safe and real.
If you’re lost,
You can look
And you will find me,
Time after time.
If you fall,
I will catch you.
I’ll be waiting,
Time after time.
Chrissy falls asleep. No dreams, no Vecna, just sleep.
#steve harrington#robin buckley#chrissy cunningham#platonic stobin#cheerscoops#buckingham#stobissy#steve x chrissy x robin#platonic with a capital p#v shaped polyamory#is that the way to say it??#polyamory#stobin#stobin share a girlfriend#hurt/comfort#stranger things#steve x chrissy#chrissy x steve#chrissy x robin#robin x chrissy#devon's writings#i need the rest of society to understand how great these three work together#weird stobin#its so late im so tired but its done and i like it yay#this is that polycule meme where its like one happy couple and the third theyre trying to coax into safety like a stray dog#but its just two weird best friends and their angstgirl crush 💕#cheerdoublescoops
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What Was I Made For?
09: Begin Again
Charles Leclerc x driver!OC (Dafne Morelli)
childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers
Warnings: Charles POV, start of the redemption arc!, flashbacks are in italics
a/n: I'm back!!! I have to say that the past weekend didn't go how it was planned, but at least I had so much fun...
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“Dafne!”
I flinched when I heard her slamming the front door, making me swallow thickly while I looked at the clock hanging in the wall of the kitchen.
Two in the morning.
It's two in the morning and she left to God knows where, with winter weather outside and with clothes that couldn't keep her warm.
“Fuck, fuck!”
I ran upstairs to grab warm clothes for myself and then to her room to grab something warmer. Her cat was laying on her bed, completely unaware of what was happening. But as I walked in and opened the wardrobe to find a coat and a scarf, I felt the little head rubbing my leg.
“I'll bring her back” I mumble looking down at the cat, swallowing thickly when it looked at me with those big blue eyes.
I rushed downstairs, grabbing the keys of the house and searching the keys of my car in the pockets of my coat.
“Come on, think…” I spoke to myself, getting in the car and turning the engine on. “Think, think, think…”
I groan, driving through the road, away from the house, trying to remember somewhere she could go to be alone.
It was a hot summer. My brothers and I went to the Morelli’s grandmother villa in Tuscany while our parents had to stay at home for work. That year I lost the championship of karting because of her and somehow I felt frustrated.
I needed to show her that I was better. I don't care if she won against me.
“Let's see who gets to the top first” I smirked looking at her pointing at the top of the tree. “The first that arrives is the winner”
“It's dangerous!” she gasped.
“So? Are you that scary?” I scoffed, looking at how she was looking between me and the tree. “Come on, are you a cry baby?”
“Shut up!” she groaned, stepping closer to the tree and starting to climb it.
I watched her, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and something else I couldn't quite name. The tree was more challenging than it looked, with slippery bark and breakable branches.
About halfway up, she grabbed a thorny branch and cried out, losing her grip. I watched in horror as she fell to the ground, gasping when I saw her falling on her ankle.
She kneeled on the ground, pressing her hand against her mouth, trying to not let out sobs. I swallowed thickly, taking slow steps towards her, but before I could say her name, she stood up and pushed me to the ground, running away from me.
“Dafne, wait!” I called her, but she didn't stop.
I felt guilt twist in my stomach. I hadn't meant for her to get hurt. Panic set in as I realized I had lost sight of her. The woods were dense and disorienting, but somehow I knew where she would go. There was a little house by the river, a place we both knew well but never acknowledged to each other.
I made my way to the house and found her at the edge of the river, with her foot on the water. She had stopped crying, but the pain was evident on her face. She didn't see me watching her from behind a tree, and I took a moment to gather myself. Seeing her hurt made something tighten in my chest, a feeling I wasn't used to.
"Dafne," I said softly, hoping not to startle her. “I’m really sorry. Can I help?”
“Go away” she mumbled, not looking at me. “I don't want to see you”
I sighed and sat on the ground with my back against the tree, keeping an eye on her. What if her ankle gets more swollen? I should do something, right? It's my fault she got injured. What if it gets worse?
As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over everything, I waited. Finally, she looked back at me, searching me with her eyes. Her face was a mixture of defiance and pain, but she didn’t look as angry as I had feared.
“I think it's broken” she mumbled, looking at her hand. “It's your fault”
“I know” I nodded, standing up and walking towards her, kneeling in front of her. “Let's go home”
I clenched my jaw, holding tight that memory and praying that she went there. I tried to remember the way towards that river, driving the car through the moody roads and looking around to try to catch a glance of her.
When I found the tree that was near the river I swallowed thickly, stopping the car and grabbing my phone to turn on the light, getting out of the car. If she's not there I don't know what I would do.
“Dafne?” I called her, trying to make my eyes get used to the dark, moving my phone around.
I sighed in relief when I saw her figure sitting on the ground next to a tree, with the blanket she was wearing wrapped around her. But that didn't stop her from sniffling because of the cold night.
“Go away”
I smiled weakly, closing my eyes and shaking my head. It's happening exactly like the last time I saw her here.
“I won't” I sighed, going back to the car and grabbing her coat and scarf. “And get used to it”
“Why?” she mumbled. “Just, why? Why now? Why are you caring now?”
“I always cared, Dafne” I sighed, wrapping the scarf around her neck and putting the coat on her shoulders. “But I tried my best for you to not see it”
“Well, you were damn good at it” she sighed, looking away from me.
“Can we please fix this?” I sighed sitting next to her. “Not only for us… But for our families and our baby”
“I never wanted this, Charles” she whispered. “It's so unfair. If only…”
“I was sick” I interrupted her.
“What?”
“The summer we met” I sighed. “The first time you told me you hated me… I was sick. I didn't throw up because you kissed me. I had a terrible stomach ache and it just happened…”
She sighed and rested her head on the trunk of the tree, taking a deep breath. Her hands were on her belly, protecting the little baby she's carrying. Our baby, my baby.
“But you just ran away…” I sighed. “You always run away when things get complicated”
“I guess it's easier than facing the problems” she sighed.
“That's so cowardly coming from you” I said.
She looked at me frowning, somehow moving away from me before I grabbed her arm. I shook my head and looked at her.
“This time I won't let you run away” I said. “Neither let you push me away, like you did with Sebastian”
“It was the best for him” she mumbled looking away, moving her arm away from my grasp. “I couldn't give him what he wanted”
“And what did he want? To settle down?” I frowned, clenching my jaw.
“Exactly” she laughed sadly. “When the doctor told us I was pregnant, he started talking about buying a house and taking care of this child. He thought it was his baby. Even if I was so happy with him, I couldn't lie to him, acting like it was his kid. It wouldn't be fair to him”
“He was the one that made me understand my feelings” I sighed, smiling weakly. “He was the one that made me realize that even if I'm twenty seven years old I still act like a kid around you, trying to get your attention”
She didn't say anything, just hugged herself tighter. I wish she would let me hold her. I wish we could fix our problems. I wish, I wish, I wish…
“One chance” she whispered. “I’ll give you only one chance. If you fuck up, I want you away from me and the baby. I don't care if it's yours, if you hurt me again I'll make sure you don't even know the name. I'm so tired of fighting”
My breath hitched in my throat, surprised by her decision. I simply nodded, sighing with relief.
“Let's go home” I whispered, getting up and offering her my hand to help her to get up.
When I felt her hand on mine I took a deep breath, pulling her to me and following her movements with my eyes. She was still protecting her belly with a hand, like she wanted to keep it for her, to protect her secret.
“C-can I?” I whisper looking at her stomach.
She took a deep breath and a step back, shaking her head slowly.
“Not yet…” she mumbled. “I don't trust you, yet”
I nodded, hurt. But I understood. I have to fix more than I thought, but I won't give up.
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The next morning I woke up with her sneezes and a cold nose poking my cheek.
I sighed, opening my eyes slowly to find her cat's face right in front of mine. I moved slowly, looking at the cat. It started purring and meowing, somehow nervously.
“What happened?” I sighed, yawning.
I saw the white cat jump out of the bed and walk out of the room, then coming back looking at me. I sighed, grabbing a hoodie and putting it on while I followed the cat towards Dafne's room.
“What…?” I frowned.
I opened the door,.sighing when I saw her there sleeping. I bite my lip, looking at her. She really is wonderful, and somehow now, knowing that she's pregnant, looks even more beautiful than before.
I heard her groaning and sneezing again, making me frown and take a step closer to her bed.
“Hey, are you okay?” I whisper, sitting on the edge of her bed.
“Sshh…” she groaned.
I swallowed thickly, moving my hand to press it on her forehead and gasping when I felt it warm.
“You are burning up” I whispered, feeling immediately worried.
She groaned, barely opening her eyes and not caring to move my had away from her forehead.
“I'm fine” she mumbled, but I could tell she wasn't.
“Stay here, okay?” I sighed, getting up from the bed and rubbing her cat's head, smiling at it. “I'll take care of you”
She tried to wave me off, but I was determined. I stood up and headed to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and soaking it in cold water. When I returned, I gently placed it on her forehead, removing the hair wet from the sweat. She flinched at the touch but didn’t push me away, sighing with relief the moment she felt the cold against her skin.
“I’ll make you some tea” I said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Just rest.”
She nodded slowly, coughing and sniffling softly. Her cat curled into her side, somehow trying to give her some warmth.
I went downstairs to the kitchen to make her something for breakfast. I know she likes having English tea around, since she's half English, so maybe I could find some of it in the cupboards.
“Bingo” I smiled, finding a few boxes of tea.
I sighed, grabbing the first one I found and boiled some water while I grabbed some crackers for her. I grabbed my phone, searched about the medicines she can take and searching them on the bathroom.
“I’m back” I said softly, walking inside of her room and placing the plate and a mug on the nightstand.
“Did you make tea?” she whispered. “Thank you…”
“You have to stay hydrated” I sighed, looking at the screen of my phone. “And I have to change the cloth of your forehead a few more times. And forget about that blanket, you need to make the fever go down”
“Wow, what are you now, my doctor?” she mumbled, and somehow I felt relieved noticing that her humor was still there even if she was sick.
“I want you to be okay, as well” I sighed. “Did you go to the doctor to do check ups of the pregnancy?”
“No” she groaned.
I sighed and nodded, grabbing my phone. The internet said she should go soon to do the checkups and to see how the baby is growing.
“Do you want me to call? I can go to the village and see if I can find a doctor” I said but she interrupted me with a groan.
“Can you please shut up? Your voice is giving me a headache” she exclaimed.
I sighed and nodded, looking away, watching her cat laying next to her with the head on her belly.
I wish she could let me touch her. But I have to accept that maybe that will never happen.
I stayed silent for a moment, letting her words sink in. I wanted to help, but I knew pushing her too much right now wouldn't do any good. I needed to show her that I could be there for her, even if it meant giving her space.
"Okay, I'll be quiet" I whispered, grabbing the washcloth from her forehead to wet it again in the bathroom.
She sighed, closing her eyes as I placed the cool cloth back on her skin, flinching slightly. Her body relaxed quickly and her lips opened a little leaving a long relieved sigh.
"Try to drink some tea" I murmured softly, guiding the mug to her lips. She took a few sips, her expression softening slightly. "And eat some crackers. It'll help"
“You made my favorite” she gasped softly, looking at the mug, taking another sip of it and humming as she swallowed it.
“I guessed it right, then” I nodded, smiling. “I’ll go later to the village to buy some more”
“You can’t, those are only in the Twinings store in London” she sighed. “Believe me, I tried to find them everywhere I go”
“Noted” I nodded.
She nodded weakly, nibbling on a cracker before settling back into the pillows. I watched her, feeling a strange mix of relief and anxiety. I wanted to take care of her, to make things right, but I knew it would take time.
As the morning wore on, I stayed by her side, changing the washcloth and making sure she drank enough fluids. I grabbed my laptop and earphones and watched something to distract myself while she slept. Her cat, sensing the tension, curled up beside her, offering its silent support.
"I never expected you to be here" she mumbled at one point, her voice barely above a whisper, making me stop the movie I was watching. "Not after everything”
"I never expected it either," I admitted, looking into her tired eyes. "At first I went to your parents’ house to see if you were there, but Erica told me you were here… I guess I didn’t expect you to be…”
“Pregnant?” she sighed.
“Y-yeah” I sighed. “But I’ll stay. I don’t care how many times you’ll try to push me away. I’ll stay”
She didn't respond, but she didn't push me away either. That was progress, I told myself. Small steps
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Later in the afternoon, Dafne’s fever had come down slightly, but she still looked exhausted. I tried to keep the atmosphere light, occasionally cracking a joke or two, though they were met with weak smiles or groans. Her cat, a constant presence by her side, provided her comfort, and I found myself grateful for the animal.
"Do you need anything else?" I asked softly, placing a fresh washcloth on her forehead.
"No... just stay" she mumbled, her voice trailing off. “Until I sleep again”
My heart ached at her vulnerability. This was a side of her I never saw, and it made me realize just how much pain I gave her, how little I know her. I nodded, even though her eyes were closed, and settled on the empty side of her bed.
Time seemed to blur. I must have dozed off at some point because when I opened my eyes, the room was darker, the only light coming from the late afternoon sun filtering through the curtains. Dafne was still asleep, her breathing more even now. Her cat was curled up next to her face, purring softly.
I stood up, stretching my back and neck, and quietly made my way to the kitchen. I needed to prepare something for her to eat when she woke up, some soup would help her feel better.
As I searched through the counter and fridge, I found some ingredients to make a simple chicken soup. The familiar actions of chopping vegetables and filling the pot with water gave me a strange sense of peace, a small sense of normalcy after today.
As the soup cooked, I found myself lost in thought. How had we gotten here? Dafne and I had always had a complicated relationship, full of competition and unspoken emotions, hate and rivalry. How could I let something like this happen? I went too far. But now I can’t back up, I have to be here for her and our baby.
I glanced at my phone, considering calling my mother and brothers to update them, but decided against it. This was something Dafne and I needed to figure out first. Besides, I didn’t want to overwhelm her with any more information or expectations than she was already dealing with.
When the soup was ready, I poured some into a bowl and carried it upstairs. Dafne was awake, sitting up in bed and looking a bit more alert.
"Hey," I said softly, entering the room. "I made you some soup"
"You cooked?" she asked surprised, looking at me.
“Don’t act so shocked, I can handle the basic meals” I chuckled softly. “Plus, this is the recipe your grandma taught all of us”
“Oh… Thank you, Charles” she smiled faintly. This is the first time I’d seen her smile at me.
I helped her sit up more comfortably, placing more pillows on her back, and handed her the bowl. She took a tentative sip, then another, her expression softening and humming softly with her eyes closed.
“Just like nonna’s” she whispered.
We sat in silence for a while, her eating slowly and me just being there, present in the moment. It was a small step, but it felt significant.
"Dafne," I began after a while. "I know things are complicated, and we've both made mistakes in the past. But I want to be here for you and the baby. I want to make things right. I want us to begin again"
She looked at me, her eyes searching mine for sincerity. I saw the doubt in her blue eyes, the internal battle she had in her mind.
"I want to believe you, Charles. I really do. But it’s going to take time…” she mumbled, looking down at her growing belly. “You caused me so much pain, and a simple gesture like taking care of me while being sick won’t make me forget it…”
"I understand," I nodded, my voice steady "But I'm not going anywhere. I’ll prove to you that I can change, That… That I’m that kid you met in Greece, the one you kissed"
As she finished the soup and settled back into bed, I felt a tentative hope.
Maybe, just maybe, we could find our way through this together. It wouldn’t be easy, but for the first time in a long while, I felt like we had a chance.
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taglist
@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @leptitlu @green-thots
#f1#formula 1#f1 imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 drabble#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#f1 x oc#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#f1 imagines#f1 serie#formula 1 fic#formula one fanfic#formula one fanfiction#formula one x reader#ferrari#cl16#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 x you#cl16 one shot
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More Than Just A Body (Swap)
Thinking about a post-body swap Sterek fic.
One that fully takes place after a body swap has already been reversed (like, a sequel to a non-existent fic--where they swapped bodies, had to live as the other, got switched back, yet didn't get together by the end--that's constantly alluded to, but we never actually get to read), so we only see the aftermath.
Derek is super irritated and snippy for days after they get back into their own bodies. Stiles thinks it's because Derek feels pissed and humiliated he had to relive to highschool with insufferable teenagers, be helplessly human and weak, and generally listen to authority again (his dad). It definitely bums Stiles out to think that Derek found living his life so deplorable that he's still angry about it. So now both of them are upset and sort of avoiding each other.
It isn't until two weeks later, when their stand-off is starting to effect pack business, that Stiles gets fed up and confronts Derek.
"What's your deal, man? You've been super shitty ever since we swapped back. It's been two weeks. How can you still be mad about living as me? What, was doing the dishes and being forced to write 5,000 words about the Louisiana Purchase seriously that terrible? Look, I'm sorry you had to deal with my stupid, tissue-paper body for so long, but you can't just-!"
And before you know it, Derek has him shoved up against a wall. He's still pissed, yeah, but, for some reason, he also looks...hurt and broken inside.
"Your body isn't stupid, Stiles! It was the best thing to happen to me in years!"
Stiles is stunned speechless. Derek's fingers are trembling around the grip he has in Stiles' shirt. There's so much pain in those green-blue eyes that it actually aches to look in them. It looks almost like grief.
Like Derek is in mourning.
Derek's not crying, but his eyes are definitely shinier as he continues, "You have no idea what you have, Stiles. What I had. For the first time since the worst fucking day of my life, I got to do normal things, like chores and sports. Not a single person expected anything of me o-or looked to me for answers. I didn't have to worry about fucking up and getting people killed, because the smartest guy I knew was taking care of my body like it was something precious. And all I had to do in return was live your beautiful, quiet life. A life where someone gently woke me up for school and nobody found me too intimidating to get close to.
"I got to know what it was like to be loved by a father again, Stiles! To say the words 'I love you, too, Dad' when I didn't think I'd ever get another chance. I-I got to be hugged and have people smile at me like they were glad to see me and I'd get to look in the mirror in the morning to the sweetest smile at the start of my day and hear your voice every time I talked. It was perfect." Somehow, Stiles has found his face streaked with tears even though the tears valiantly sticking to Derek's lashes still haven't fallen as his voice breaks over his words.
"A-and now? All I get to wake up to is me." The word is spit out with acid and venom. "I get to wake up alone in a cold, silent, empty, concrete room and look at a face in the mirror that makes me sick. I get to go back to my pathetic fucking life where I have to choose between literally fighting against an endless wave of people out to kill me or using my family's blood money to buy myself a microwavable dinner for the night. The only difference is that now...now I'm haunted by the feel of your fingers through my hair, your arms wrapped around me," at this, Stiles can feel his heart cracking apart at the thought of Derek using his body to simply hug himself, "y-your voice telling me that I'm going to be okay, and just-just the sight of your skin and your eyes and-and-I just, I can't, Stiles, I-I can't-!"
Stiles is clutching Derek so tight to him in an instant, tucking him into his neck and slowly lowering them to the ground as Derek collapses and sobs into him.
---
Once the tears are all dry, Stiles finally picks up the courage to be vulnerable too. He owes it to Derek.
At least it'll be easier now that he can't see the werewolf's reactions.
So, as he's stroking the other's hair, Stiles tells him about how he wishes Derek could see the man he fell in love with the way Stiles can.
He tells him about how he fell in love with a man whose heart is so big and full of kindness that he physically cannot stop himself from helping people, no matter how much he likes to pretend that he doesn't care.
The man he loves is powerful, resilient, and stronger than any one person has any right to be, yet so fragile as to be afraid of loving someone too much because he might be shattered.
The man Stiles loves is smart, sassy, thoughtful, stubborn, awkward, grumpy, sweet, and so so deserving of hugs and smiles and kisses and praise, because Derek is and has always been more than just a body.
Stiles tells him about how, during their swap, he made sure to take warm baths with nice smells, nap in cozy blankets, and massage his hands and feet with lotions because Stiles wanted to take care of Derek's body as much as he could while he got the chance. He did it because he wanted to help Derek and this was the only way he thought he could.
If there had been even the slightest indication that anything more would've been well received, Stiles would have already done it. All he wants is permission.
"Please...let me take care of you?"
---
So, slowly, day by day, Stiles enfolds Derek into a gentle life.
Stiles is Derek's strongest advocate, his extra set of hands to help carry his burdens, his pillow, his introduction to new things and new people.
They're always wrapped around each other, all the time, almost like Stiles is scared of Derek getting cold.
Despite the confession, things remain G-rated for a while. Cuddles, hand-holding, caresses, just touching. Shy kisses eventually make an appearance after some time, but they remain sweet, loving little things.
Stiles makes it perfectly clear that he's fine waiting to make a move until he's sure being intimate can't possibly be mistaken as anything else. He needs Derek to understand that this isn't obligation or pity. Stiles loves Derek. And Stiles is going to take his time because he wants Derek to feel loved beyond his body, no matter how long it takes.
By the time Derek feels whole again, now living with the Stilinskis and smiling softly as a default expression, they find themselves in front of the bathroom mirror having their first time together.
It's definitely not kinky. Mostly reverent, full of "It's okay, I'm right here", fingers laced tight together, flashing eyes, and a bit of emotional tears. It's gentle and assuring, with promises of never being alone again, and whispers of "so beautiful" and "so sweet" and "so perfect". Climax is rewarded with praises, hands stroking up arms and down backs, and "I love you"s are slurred through dropped fangs and traded back and forth between kisses
But as expected, finally having sex doesn't magically make Derek love himself. It's still a long road. Because even if Derek doesn't completely hate his life anymore, there are those hard days where he still has problems with 'being Derek'.
And maybe one day Derek will learn to love the body he lives in.
Until then, Stiles will just have to love it for him.
#sterek#teen wolf#derek hale#stiles stilinski#tyler hoechlin#dylan o'brien#mieczysław stiles stilinski#minific#I was definitely picturing bottom Derek#But you do you boo
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dreams
OPLA!Zoro x F!Reader
summary - majority of your dreams seem to manifest in the real world somehow, so when you have one about your crush and your best friend...things get a little out of control.
warnings - heavy angst (im sorry), hurt to comfort
a/n: when i started writing for this fandom i PROMISED myself i would not make it all angst and no fun, but oh well :))))) idek where this idea came from, i need help
You woke up from a nap with the sickening urge to empty your stomach overboard. Nausea reared its ugly head, and before you could even try to tame the feeling, you were sprinting to the side of the ship to empty your stomach.
What exactly was the cause?
This would sound insanely ridiculous, and to you it really was, but you had a weird dream. And it didn't sit well with you. Most of the dreams you had often became a reality, albeit with slight changes. There were some that didn't, but almost all of them came true eventually or manifested in a similar way at some point.
And that's probably the reason you couldn't stop yourself from vomiting obscenely before your stunned - and confused - crew.
"(Name), are you okay?" Nami asked worriedly, coming over to you.
You flinched away from her, increasing her confusion, before turning and running off to the bathroom. She exchanged looks with the others who were out on deck - Usopp and Luffy - before shrugging it off and going back to mapping the ship's course.
The truth was, you had a completely unexpected yet maddening dream while napping, one that you prayed to any god who would listen would not come true. You had dreamed of Zoro - the man you had the biggest crush on - and Nami, which may seem an odd coupling and probably was but you couldn't control your dreams. Much like how you couldn't control how you felt about it, despite it only being a fictional idea your mind concocted.
You went straight to yours and Nami's room after cleaning yourself up, setting up the divider that separated your section from hers so you wouldn't have to deal with seeing her if she came in. Your behaviour was unfair to her, since you knew she would never do anything like that, nor did she have any romantic interest in Zoro. In fact, she barely had any interest in the swordsman at all. But according to your dream, that might change.
You curled up on your bed, pulling the blanket right up over your head to shield yourself from the real world. The familiar feeling of something wet running down your cheek informed you that you had started crying, but you couldn't care less. You couldn't move. You didn't have the energy to move, much less bring your hand up to wipe your tears away. So you just lay there, curled up in a foetal position, trying - and miserably failing - to get your mind off it.
A while later, a knock at your door caused you to jerk up in your bed, before you groaned and flopped back down.
"Go away!"
"Nami said you're sick," came Sanji's voice, "So I made you some soup. Please open the door."
You breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't either of the two people you were currently trying to avoid. Slowly dragging yourself out of bed, you had to make even more effort to get yourself to the door. Forgetting that you had just been crying, you opened it and let the cook in, confused when his expression immediately grew alarmed.
"(Name), why are you crying??" He immediately set the soup down and pulled you into a comforting hug - one that seemed to be much warmer than usual right now.
"I-I'm fine," you mumbled into his shoulder, "Just not well."
He nodded, falling for your excuse, before pulling away to hand you the soup, "Here, this should help. If you need more, or if you need anything else, just let me know." He smiled at you, before leaving you alone once again.
You sat back down on your bed and ate the soup - because who can say no to Sanji's cooking, even if you're not really in the mood to eat? And it did help, the warmth helping to settle your queasy stomach and alleviate the nausea if only a little bit. Minutes after you finished it, there was another knock and you frowned, wondering who it was now.
You didn't answer, in fear of it being Zoro.
Just the thought of Zoro had you replaying that dream all over again, and before you could stop yourself or at least soften the sound, sobs were wracking your body and you were burying your face in your hands, crying into their warmth.
The door opened and a familiar set of heavy footsteps reached your ears before the bed dipped beside you. Your entire body froze up, tensing at the arrival of the green-haired swordsman. Your sobs fell silent, hiccups replacing them as you stilled and tried your best to quell your sadness - still keeping your face hidden.
"What happened?" Came that usually-comforting deep voice you loved so much, but that now caused your nausea to return. "What's wrong, (Name)?"
"Please go away," you found yourself speaking, not wanting to push him away but knowing you'd feel even more ridiculous if he found out how you felt about him while you were recounting a silly dream.
"No."
Usually the swordsman would leave without a word if you asked for space, or if you told him to go away, but this time he could see you were absolutely not okay and you needed someone. Luffy wouldn't be a good idea, Usopp wouldn't know what to do, and you seemed to be avoiding Nami. And he sure as hell did not want that stupid cook anywhere near you right now, in fear of him comforting you so well that the swordsman would lose you to him entirely.
You didn't respond to that, so Zoro brought his hands up to slowly and gently peel yours away from your face. You let him, shocking yourself, and the sight of your bloodshot eyes and tear-stained face caused his heart to constrict painfully.
"Tell me what's wrong."
He held your hands in his own, not wanting to let go. He had waited so long to be able to hold them, and he was glad for this excuse to. But he was heartbroken seeing you so upset and apparently sick over something he didn't know about yet. He gently squeezed your hands, silently encouraging you to speak. He wasn't good with words, but if comfort was what you needed he would do and say whatever he could to make your pain go away.
"It's you and Nami."
He stiffened. He didn't know what that meant, but just hearing he was part of the reason you were so upset made his heart sink.
"What did we do?"
"It's...um...it's silly," you replied quietly, voice low but pain still evident. "It doesn't matter." You tried pulling your hands away, but Zoro only gripped them tighter.
"It does, if it's making you this upset."
Reluctantly, you relayed to him what you had dreamed about, voice cracking halfway through as more tears fell. You felt even sillier saying it to someone else, especially him, and avoided making eye-contact throughout the entire explanation. When you finished, you shot him a small, brief glance - only to do a double take when you saw the absolutely horrified and disgusted look on his face.
"Me and the thief?" He questioned, distaste clear in his tone. "You've got to be kidding me." He sighed, sneakily shifting closer to you on the bed. "That can't be possible."
"But-"
"Some of your dreams don't come true," he reminded you, "This is definitely one of those. You want to know how I know?"
You nodded slowly, biting your lip.
You did not expect his next words.
"Because I already dream about doing that with you."
Your jaw dropped. If you were like Luffy, it would have probably dropped all the way to the floor, you were so stunned by his confession. Your formerly slowed heartbeat picked up speed again, heat filling your cheeks as you processed his words.
"Me?"
"Mhm. Only you. Been a recurring dream, actually."
As you stuttered out an incomplete sentence and then stammered through some nonsense, Zoro leaned in slowly and pressed his lips against yours, locking you in a slow but sweet kiss. His lips were warm and soft, inviting you to lean into him and return the kiss. The affectionate gesture had butterflies blooming in your stomach.
"I'm sorry," you whispered once you remembered how to speak.
"There's nothing to be sorry for," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling you into a warm, comforting and secure embrace.
You sat like that quietly for a while, Zoro rubbing soothing circles onto your back while you clung to him, face buried in his neck. He kissed the top of your head every few minutes, in between mumbling sweet words of comfort into your ear - mainly "you're beautiful" and "i'm yours" because he didn't know what else to say. But it was enough for you.
Eventually, he spoke up.
"You should clear things up with Nami. She's upset because you're not talking to her."
"I know...later."
He chuckled and tightened his grip on you, keeping you warm and increasingly happy in his strong arms. He didn't intend on letting go, but that was good because you didn't want him to.
BONUS:
"STUPID MOSSHEAD!"
Loud banging and clanging jerked you awake the morning after your confessions, the sound of Sanji's loud exclamation having woken you - but not Zoro - up. He probably had woken up the others as well.
You tried to get up to see what was wrong, but Zoro refused to let go. He was still sleeping, but his arms wound around you even tighter, pulling you back against him. You sighed, knowing you could ask someone else later anyway.
Nami poked her head around the divider and smirked, "He's upset that Zoro finally confessed and ruined his chance to woo you."
You laughed at that, "Give him an hour, max. Then he'll try to woo you."
She groaned, "I'm already dreading it."
The two of you laughed, and it felt good to be back on speaking terms with her. Even though, strictly speaking, you hadn't had a reason not to be in the first place. But oh well.
The power of dreams...
#one piece#opla#one piece live action#zoro x reader#roronoa zoro#opla zoro#opla x reader#zoro x you#opla zoro x reader#op#opla zoro x you
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