#They just appeared and jumped into the wrapping by themselves

[kathlare]

when you look me in the eyes

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie returns to the paddock for the first time since the world turned upside down, bringing with her an unexpected surprise.

Wordcount: 4.3 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

July 5th, 2020 - Spielberg, Austria

liked by gridgirlsupreme, sunshinef1baby, and others

f1gossiphq: SHE’S BACK. Amelie Dayman was spotted arriving at the paddock this morning in Austria for race day — her first appearance inside the paddock since pre-pandemic days (yep, it’s been that long 🥹). The queen of gridwalk fits has officially returned and we are so here for it.

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lanfan98: she walked in and the air changed → maxielmafia: @lanfan98 the way even the sun adjusted lighting for her 😭 → gridgossipgirl: @lanfan98 Lando looked nervous and that says enough

dayman_dollz: she back in the paddock like she never left 🔥 → 44butmakeitfashion: @dayman_dollz they had to hit a global pause just to prepare for her return 💅🏼

gridgirlsupreme: joshua bassett who??? she’s back on home turf → ameliesleftboot: @gridgirlsupreme “i’m not a driver but i could ruin a championship” energy

softforlanmelie: she stepped out like she knew the lanmelie agenda needed CPR → landoonfilm: @softforlanmelie we’re EATING today omg

gpfitarchive: 2 years away and she still understood the assignment better than 90% of the grid → checostwinflame: @gpfitarchive she’s the real paddock return we were waiting for

lanlover03: lando probably did a backflip when he saw her walk in

wagsupreme: the paddock just got 110% more aesthetic → alexfangirl99: @wagsupreme now do a fit check pls i’m begging

alexfanboy1999: she’s friends with everyone i wanna be her SO BAD → iamliterallyyuki: @alexfanboy1999 same but i also wanna date her. respectfully.

carlosstanclub: i know she's just “friends” with the boys but she walked in and every man in the paddock lost structural integrity → danielricyes: @carlosstanclub LMAOO NOT STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY 💀💀💀

f1sluttycorner: the queen has arrived 😭✨ → landoforever: @f1sluttycorner she’s literally the reason I even watched f1 before the boys joined the paddock → amelienslovers: @f1sluttycorner same, no one made the paddock more fun

f1fanaticx: no but like she’s literally glowing and I’m not talking about the sun

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

The second Amelie stepped into the paddock, arm looped through Joshua’s something in her chest fluttered. The Austrian Grand Prix. The first race weekend back since the world turned upside down. The air still smelled like motorsport and adrenaline, but now it had the added scent of sanitiser and the strange, quiet tension of a half-empty paddock.

Joshua leaned in toward her, murmuring through his mask —This is kinda surreal, huh? Like we’re walking through a movie set or something.—

—Yeah,— she whispered, scanning the garages —kinda feels like I’m dreaming. I haven’t been here since march.—

She was trying to make her way toward the Racing Point garage to find Stella and Checo before things got chaotic. But she barely took three steps before...

—AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!—

—WHAT THE FUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!— another voice shrieked over the first.

Two very large, very fast-moving bodies launched themselves at her from behind. Arms wrapped around her middle and lifted her clean off the ground while someone else grabbed her shoulders from the other side, squeezing her in a sandwich of sheer chaos.

Amelie screamed. Joshua yelped and jumped back.

—OH MY GODDDDDDDDDD IT’S YOU IT’S REALLY YOUUUU— came from her right.

—YOU’RE TINY, HOLY SHIT, I THOUGHT YOU WERE TALLER— from the left.

She twisted in their grip to find George and Alex grinning so hard their masks were crinkling at the edges. Eyes sparkling. Faces completely manic.

—WHAT THE FUCK— Amelie wheezed, absolutely stunned —YOU GUYS ARE REAL.—

George laughed and spun her once before dropping her back down. —You thought we were catfish, huh? Bet you thought we were just voices with good Wi-Fi.—

Alex shoved George aside and threw his arms around her again. —LAN’S GONNA FUCKING DIE.—

—Wait, Lando doesn’t know I’m here yet,— she giggled, hugging him back, adrenaline now making her face hot under her mask.

—He doesn’t know?— George shouted, scandalised. —You evil little goblin. You didn’t tell him?!—

Joshua blinked behind them, clearly trying to process what was happening. —Um... hi,— he said politely.

Alex glanced over. —Oh, you’re the popstar boyfriend.—

—Joshua Bassett,— Amelie introduced quickly, looping her arm through his again. —Alex, George... this is Josh.—

—Nice to meet you,— Joshua said, smiling despite the shock.

—You poor man,— George muttered dramatically. —You don’t stand a chance. We’re keeping her now.—

Amelie rolled her eyes. —Okay, shut up, I was literally walking to find my sister and you two tackled me like linebackers.—

Alex bounced on his heels. —No, no, no, you’re coming with us. Breakfast. Paddock Club. No arguing.—

Before she could respond, both of them grabbed her and Joshua and started dragging them toward the glass building overlooking the paddock, laughing like idiots.

—Wait... guys... my sister...!— she tried.

—Your sister can wait,— George said with a grin. —You’re our problem now.—

They ended up seated at a table on the terrace outside, plates full of fruit and croissants and espresso cups clinking against saucers. The sun was warming the tiles, and the view of the paddock below was perfect.

Amelie was perched between Alex and Joshua, legs crossed, she nibbled on a piece of melon and tried not to laugh too loud at Alex recounting the time Lando fell asleep mid-sim race stream.

—And he snored. On stream. Like fully. Thousands of people watching.—

George nodded solemnly. —We have videos.—

Amelie grinned, cheeks aching. —Oh my god, I need to see them.—

Meanwhile, below them on the other end of the paddock, Lando strolled through the gates with Carlos, both of them masks on, coffee in hand, chatting about tyre strategy and breakfast options.

—Honestly, I don’t care if the tyres last or not, I just want a bagel,— Carlos was saying.

Lando chuckled, kicking a loose pebble as they walked. —You’re obsessed with bagels lately, mate. It’s weird.—

—Don’t judge me for my cravings,— Carlos replied, raising his espresso cup to his lips. —You Brits just don’t understand flavour.—

Lando rolled his eyes, gaze lazily flicking across the paddock… and then he froze.

Mid-step. Mid-breath.

His heart? Gone. Stopped. Dead.

His coffee nearly slipped from his hand.

There she was.

Her.

Amelie.

Sitting up in the Paddock Club terrace, sunlight in her hair like it was placed there on purpose. Mask half-lowered to take a sip of espresso, legs folded neatly, surrounded by George and Alex — and right next to her, that guy. That fucking guy. Joshua-fucking-Bassett.

Lando blinked hard like the sun had tricked him. But no. She was real. She was here.

—You okay, bro?— Carlos asked, glancing over.

Lando’s jaw clenched. He forced a breath out of his nose. —Didn’t think she was coming.—

Carlos followed Lando’s gaze, squinting through the glass and sunlight. The second he caught sight of what had turned Lando into a statue, a slow, shit-eating grin spread beneath his mask.

—Ah.— Carlos drawled. —So that’s why you wore your hair nicer today. You hoped she’d magically show up.—

Lando tore his eyes away and resumed walking, a little too fast. —Shut up.—

—No, no, don’t be shy now,— Carlos teased, catching up with an easy stride. —It’s your girlfriend.—

—She’s not my girlfriend,— Lando hissed, flushing under his mask. —We’re just friends.—

Carlos snorted. —Yeah, and I’m just a guy who accidentally wins quali sometimes. Come on, mate. Don’t lie to me. You’ve been in love with her since 2018. Even before you knew her. I remember you showed me one of her stupid magazine covers in the hotel lobby in Baku like, ‘I’m gonna marry her someday, bro.’—

Lando groaned. —Why do you remember everything?—

—Because your pining is the only romantic comedy I’ve had this whole pandemic,— Carlos said. —And it’s a good one. Like, Oscar-worthy.—

Up on the terrace, Amelie laughed at something George said, head tossed back, hair shimmering. Lando glanced up again, and the ache in his chest did a little somersault.

Joshua reached over and wiped something from her cheek — probably crumbs, nothing — but it made Lando want to throw himself off the pit building.

He hated that fucking guy.

Carlos let out a low whistle beside him. —Oof. He touched her face, dude. That’s intimate.—

Lando scowled behind his mask. —He got a crumb. That’s not intimate, that’s hygienic.—

—Right, right, my bad,— Carlos said, mock-serious. —Still. Looks like he’s very good at being hygienic. Super thoughtful. Good boyfriend material, yeah?—

Lando shot him a death glare. —Shut. The fuck. Up.—

Carlos raised his hands in surrender, but the grin beneath his mask didn’t budge. —Whatever you say, lover boy.—

Carlos kept teasing, but Lando’s brain wasn’t even processing words anymore. All he could focus on was her. Amelie. His Amelie—except she wasn’t, not really. Not officially. Not in any way that actually counted. And now here she was, beautiful and chaotic and completely unexpected, sitting next to the one person on earth Lando genuinely wanted to punch in the throat.

He inhaled through his nose, sharp and shallow. Her laugh floated down again. God, he’d missed that sound.

She looked happy. Like really happy. Comfortable. Glowing. Laughing at George’s jokes, stealing a strawberry from Alex’s plate like it was her own, her knee brushing against Joshua’s as they sat way too close.

Carlos was watching Lando with that smug look like he was filming a live episode of Lando’s Emotional Downfall: Bitch Edition.

—You gonna go say hi, or just stand here like a sad Victorian orphan?— Carlos asked, sipping his espresso.

—She didn’t even tell me she was coming,— Lando muttered, jaw clenched tight. —Said she had filming. That’s why she didn’t text much this week.—

Carlos shrugged. —Maybe it was a surprise. Or maybe she didn’t want to see you.—

Lando elbowed him. Hard.

Carlos laughed anyway. —Kidding! Kind of.—

Up on the terrace, Amelie leaned back in her chair, one arm hooked lazily over the back of it as she looked out over the paddock. Her gaze swept over the people, the trucks, the garages—and then paused.

Her eyes landed on him.

They froze.

Lando blinked, unsure if she was really looking at him through the layers of glass and sunlight. But then her lips curled up, slow and unmistakable, into a smile that reached her eyes.

She lifted her hand and gave the tiniest wave.

Lando’s insides collapsed.

He waved back—awkwardly, stupidly—but his heart picked up speed like he was going into fucking quali.

Joshua leaned over and said something in her ear, making her smile again, and Lando immediately hated him more. He didn’t even know why he disliked the guy so much. Okay—no. He knew exactly why. Because he had Amelie’s attention. Because Amelie let him sit next to her and wipe crumbs off her face and probably knew the passcode to her phone.

Lando was snapped out of his spiraling by Carlos slapping a hand to his back.

—Go up there, say hi, act normal.—

—Normal? I’m dying.—

—Then die pretty. Put your mask on straight, you look like a dumbass.—

Lando adjusted the strap, heart still racing as he walked alongside Carlos toward the paddock club elevators. The nerves twisted in his stomach like snakes.

He could already hear George yelling through the glass before they even opened the terrace doors.

—OH MY GODDDDD, IT’S HIM. HE’S COMING. HE’S WALKING UP RIGHT NOW.—

Alex was halfway to standing. —LANNNDOOOO.—

Amelie twisted in her seat, beaming.

Lando stopped just past the threshold, giving a little wave. —Hey.—

Alex practically tackled him with a hug. —Bro, you’re late. You missed the reunion of the year.—

—You could’ve warned me she was coming,— Lando mumbled as George followed up with his own hug that was more like a rugby tackle.

George just grinned. —We didn’t know either. She lied. She’s sneaky.—

Joshua stood up and gave a very diplomatic nod. —Lando.—

—Joshua,— Lando replied, as neutrally as possible.

A beat passed. The tension? Thick enough to cut with a dull spoon.

Amelie stood and pulled her mask back up, her eyes dancing. —Surprise.—

Lando looked at her. Really looked. God, she looked like summer and softness and the kind of thing that hurt just from existing. Her eyes sparkled even through the mask. He hated how much he missed her. How much he liked her.

—You said you were filming,— he said, stepping forward.

—Was. Wrapped early.— Her shoulder lifted in a shrug. —Thought I’d come watch some cars go in circles.—

Lando huffed a laugh. —Well. Welcome back.—

She tilted her head. —Didn’t think I’d come?—

He hesitated. Then: —Didn’t think you’d bring him.—

Joshua raised his brows, but said nothing.

Amelie caught the tone and gave a little smirk behind her mask. —Jealous, Lan?—

—Of what? A guy who sings about heartbreak and drinks green juice? Never.—

—You do drink green juice,— George pointed out helpfully.

—Irrelevant.—

They all sat again—Lando pulled up a chair across from Amelie, though George immediately wedged himself between them with an obnoxious grin.

—So, Amelie was just telling us she hasn’t seen a race in person since last year,— Alex said. —We’re her first pit stop back.—

—More like her interception,— Joshua muttered, but Amelie nudged his leg gently.

Lando kept glancing at her, heart rate refusing to settle. The way she sat with ease, like she belonged. The way she joked with George and Alex like she’d known them forever. The way the sunlight caught on her earrings. God, he was so fucked.

Carlos arrived minutes later, coffee refilled, and immediately dropped into the seat next to Lando like he was watching a drama unfold.

—So... Amelie. Long time no see.—

—Carlos!— she grinned. —I haven’t seen you since Australia, right?—

Carlos nodded. —I hear you’re breaking hearts again.—

Amelie laughed, but Lando nearly choked on his croissant.

George leaned in. —We were just saying Lan’s gonna combust when she walks into the garage later.—

Lando grumbled. —I’m fine.—

Alex smirked. —Sure. That’s why your ears are red, huh?—

—Shut up.—

Amelie stretched her arms, sipping her coffee again as if she didn’t just have everyone wrapped around her finger.

Joshua’s hand brushed hers under the table. Lando noticed. Lando hated it.

The breakfast had been a whirlwind of laughter, teasing, and half-hearted threats from George and Alex about never letting Amelie leave the paddock club again. As the sun began to climb higher, casting a golden hue over everything, the group slowly made their way out of the club and towards the garages.

Amelie was still processing the fact that she was standing in the paddock at all — especially after everything that had happened with the pandemic and how long it had been since she’d last been here. She could feel the adrenaline of it all, that familiar hum of excitement in her veins.

—Let’s go, kiddos,— Alex said, bumping George with his shoulder as they walked toward the Red Bull garage. —See you around, Ames.— He threw a wink over his shoulder.

—Good luck with the weirdos,— George added with a grin, his hand flung out dramatically toward Lando, who was walking with Carlos just ahead of them.

Amelie rolled her eyes. —I’m surrounded by children,— she said, but the playful smile didn’t leave her face as she nudged Joshua.

Joshua chuckled, squeezing her shoulder as they continued their walk. They were approaching the Racing Point garage now, and Amelie could see Stella and Checo waiting near the entrance, chatting with a few members of the team.

But as they walked closer, something tugged at her chest. She paused mid-step, a glance shifting over to Lando. He was walking with Carlos, laughing about something, his usual easy grin on full display. She couldn’t help but smile, even though the knot in her stomach was pulling tight again.

Joshua noticed she stopped and raised an eyebrow. —You good?—

Amelie nodded, her eyes still locked on Lando. Without thinking, she broke away from the group, walking toward him.

Lando didn’t notice at first, still in conversation with Carlos, but as Amelie approached, he glanced over and froze when he saw her. He instantly tensed, a look of surprise flickering across his face before it shifted into something softer — almost hopeful.

She caught his gaze and smiled, that familiar playful glint in her eyes. —Hey, good luck today,— she said, the words slipping out naturally.

Lando opened his mouth to respond, but she was already standing close enough that, before he could say anything, Amelie pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

The second her lips brushed against his skin, Lando's breath caught in his throat. It was light, almost innocent, but it sent a jolt through him. A shiver ran down his spine, and for a second, time seemed to stretch. The sound of the paddock faded away, leaving just the two of them in that moment.

She pulled back, her smile now a little more mischievous. —You'll do great,— she added, her voice low enough that only he could hear.

Lando’s heart was still racing when he finally found his voice. —Thanks,— he whispered, his eyes not leaving hers for a moment longer than necessary.

He was still processing the fact that she’d kissed him at all, let alone like that. It wasn’t anything big or dramatic — just a small gesture — but it felt like everything. His chest tightened, and as she turned to walk away, he watched her go, suddenly feeling more certain than ever that the day was going to go well.

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

liked by f1gossipqueen, george_the_good_guy, and others

lanmelieforever: THE MOMENT WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR. Lando and Amelie were spotted having breakfast with the rest of the guys (and Joshua 👀) at the paddock today! It’s the first time we’ve gotten HD photos of them together and... can we just talk about the vibes?? 😩🍳

View all 80,011 comments

f1racingdreamer: Omg they’re ACTUALLY sitting next to each other 😭💖 finally, the moment we’ve all been waiting for!!!

maxspaghetti: Is it just me or do they literally look like they’re dating? 👀 → alexlovesbanter: @maxspaghetti same, I’m calling it— they’re not fooling anyone.

f1fancyfan: OK BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW CUTE LANDO AND AMELIE LOOK TOGETHER?? 😭💖 → georgelemonade: @f1fancyfan they have that “we’ve been hiding this for years” energy 🤡

f1gossipqueen: Joshua’s sitting RIGHT THERE. But we all know who Amelie’s real breakfast date is. 😏 → lanmelieforever: @f1gossipqueen don’t we all... It’s Lando, always has been, always will be. 👀

sundownf1: JUST FRIENDS? I’m not buying it. → charleslemonade: @sundownf1 Same, it’s all about those stolen glances when they think no one’s watching 😬

paddockqueen: Ugh, finally we get HD photos of these two together. Too cute for words! 😍 → lanmelieforever: @paddockqueen like we’ve all been STARVING for this moment, right?! 😩🙌

f1lovers09: Still in denial that Joshua's there. Are we just pretending that Lando isn't the obvious choice?? → f1fanatic88: @f1lovers09 right?! He's been in love with her since forever, we all see it.

lanmelie_mania: I’m not saying they’re dating... but I’m ALSO not saying they’re not. 🤭 → f1babe97: @lanmelie_mania Yeah, the vibe is way too strong for them to just be “friends” 💀

f1.sluttycorner: ok but did we REALLY need to wait this long for HD pics of them together?! like?? 🔥🔥 → george_the_good_guy: @f1.sluttycorner it’s the longest game of “are they or aren’t they” ever. but my heart’s happy now.

lanmeliefan99: ok but can we talk about how they just LOOK like a couple?? I’m SCREAMING 🤭💥

f1.secretlycrying: I don’t think I’ve breathed since I saw these pics… IS THIS FINALLY IT?? → lanmelieforever: @f1.secretlycrying WE CAN ONLY HOPE.

sassy_melanie: am I the only one who’s still convinced they’re just REALLY good at playing this game? 🤔 → lanmeliefan_: @sassy_melanie nope, YOU’RE NOT. But it’s cute, right? 😏

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

The race was over, but the adrenaline still buzzed through the air like static.

The Austrian Grand Prix had been chaos — messy, unpredictable, everything Formula 1 wasn’t supposed to be in the middle of a global pandemic. No fans. No flags. No thunderous cheers. Just masked engineers, gloved mechanics, and a strange, sterile silence pierced only by engine roars and garbled radio messages.

But then... Lando fucking Norris. P3.

And Amelie was running.

She didn’t care about protocol. Didn’t care that Stella had told her to wait. Didn’t care that she was technically not supposed to be in the parc fermé area. She just needed to see him.

She shoved past the last barrier, heart racing faster than the McLarens had all afternoon. Her shoes slapped the concrete, eyes burning, throat tight with emotion.

Up on the podium, Bottas stood tall in first, champagne bottle in hand, grinning like a man who already knew he’d never hear the end of it from Toto. Charles was beside him, P2, sweat-damp curls stuck to his forehead, eyes crinkling behind his mask.

And then, there was Lando.

Still in his overalls, soaked in sticky champagne, hair flattened, face glowing. P3.

His first F1 podium.

Her chest cracked open like glass under pressure.

The second the corks popped and the spray started, she stopped a few meters short of the podium platform, heart in her throat. She laughed through the tears as they all turned into children — Charles spraying Lando, Lando spinning away from Bottas, shrieking through giggles as the cold liquid hit his neck.

It was stupid and pure and perfect.

And somehow, through the chaos, Charles spotted her first.

He jogged down from the platform just as the others were tossing champagne-soaked towels toward the side. His eyes softened, and he moved in to hug her, then paused — his suit was drenched.

—Side hug,— he muttered, still breathless. —I don’t want to ruin your shirt.

Amelie let him tuck her against his side anyway, barely able to breathe through the lump in her throat. —You did amazing,— she whispered, voice cracked.

Charles gave her a squeeze and smiled down at her. —He’s going to combust, you know.—

Before she could ask what he meant, he peeled away and jogged toward the media pen.

And then… the storm came.

Lando spotted her.

From across the concrete. From behind the mask. Through the mist and the madness and the sheer disbelief still written across his face.

The second their eyes met, he froze. His fingers still wrapped around the neck of the champagne bottle, the trophy clutched in the other hand. His jaw slackened like his brain hadn’t caught up to his legs.

And then he moved.

He shoved both the bottle and the trophy at Zak Brown, barely even glancing at him. And then he ran. Full tilt. Like his soul was chasing something his body couldn’t keep up with.

Amelie stood still as a statue, watching this champagne-soaked idiot barrel toward her like a missile with no brakes.

He didn’t even hesitate — arms hooked under her thighs, lifted her clean off the ground, spinning her in a wide circle.

—Lando!! You’re soaked!— she squealed, laughing and crying and clinging to his shoulders as he twirled her.

—Don’t care,— he gasped. —You saw it.—

Her hands curled in his suit as he set her down gently. One palm stayed on her waist just a second longer than necessary.

And then, with breathless eyes and flushed cheeks, he leaned in and kissed her.

Not her lips. Not yet.

Just her cheek. Right below the mask strap. Soft and sure and a little bit electric.

Her breath hitched. The world tilted.

And then, just like that, he pulled away. Running again. This time toward the media pen. Probably to get grilled. Probably to laugh like it hadn’t hit him either.

Amelie stood alone now, in the middle of the near-empty paddock. The sky overhead was muted grey. Her heart was screaming.

It hit her like a freight train.

Oh no.

Fuck.

She liked him.

Like, liked him.

And not just “he’s cute and makes me laugh” liked him.

No. This was different.

This was chest-aching, breath-stopping, legs-shaking kind of like.

This was "I don’t want to imagine a world where he’s not the first person I call when something good happens" kind of like.

This was dangerous.

This was real.

She pressed her hand to the spot where he’d kissed her, fingers trembling.

The sound of champagne corks and engine ticks faded into static.

Oh, no.

She was in trouble.

Big, stupid, heart-shaped trouble.

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

liked by f1gossipqueen, george_the_good_guy, and others

daymanupdates: AMELIE JUST POSTED LANDO ON HER STORY FROM THE PODIUM 😭🏁💙 HER MAN IS FINALLY ON THE PODIUM AND SHE SAID DOCUMENT IT 😭

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lanmeliecentral: she really said "that’s my man" without saying "that’s my man" 😭 → alexalbunsleftbrow: @lanmeliecentral lando probably cried in the cool down room after seeing that story fr → georgeissopretty: @lanmeliecentral he def posted her back on close friends with no shame

ameliedaydreamer: not her posting lando on the podium like that’s not her soulmate → alexdaisysocks: @ameliedaydreamer she’s literally giving “soft launch: lifetime edition” → lando4pres: @ameliedaydreamer at this point just hand her the wifey pass already

ferrarislut: she saw her bestie win and said “lemme post my man” → leclercsthighs: bestie... girl... roommate... wife... who knows anymore

lanmelie_heart: we’ve waited YEARS for a podium + paddock era photo dump and it was WORTH IT → checostella: @lanmelie_heart we’re not delusional if it’s right in front of us. we’re just observant. → alexachill: @lanmelie_heart i just know her camera roll is 80% him rn

georgebabygirl63: "you saw it"??? I SAW IT TOO SIR I’M RIGHT HERE → alexandrace: @georgebabygirl63 the way she was about to cry and then he spun her around and kissed her I’m so unwell

lanmelie4life: him handing zak the trophy like “hold this i need to go full Nicholas Sparks real quick” → maxxhysteria: @lanmelie4life IT’S THE WAY HE LIFTED HER UP I’M IN SHAMBLES → gridgirlsupreme: @lanmelie4life they looked like the final scene of a Netflix original I’m gonna throw up (affectionately)

youlovemelie: no bc she posted him and then we got HD footage of her running to him like it’s a war reunion I’m sobbing → checostan47: @youlovemelie she hasn’t even posted joshua once btw. I’m just saying.

babywoking: “you saw it” is more romantic than any love confession ever written in literature. prove me wrong.

lanmeliefiles: THE STORY… THE STORYYYYYY 😭😭 → ameliasrage: @lanmeliesfiles she said “soft launch my champagne-soaked king” and dipped → tsunderealex: @lanmeliesfiles someone check on Joshua Bassett immediately

gp.glitter: and she was THERE… first gp since the pandemic and she watched him get his FIRST podium??? destiny. → haaswhore: @gp.glitter idc what anyone says they’re soulmates. God’s favorite friends-to-lovers arc

[0ffthel1ne]

I wish every woman a happy International Women's Day!

Have a

Hourglass dog bouquet!

Because I can't imagine a living being that wouldn't want to have a whole BOUQUET of them!

[thedensworld]

Arrangement Crossed | K.Mg

Pairing: Mingyu x reader

Genre: arrange engagement au

Summary: Mingyu started to enjoy the arrangement between him and you. What should he do?

Why do birds suddenly appear everytime that you near? Just like me i long to be close to you. - Close To You by Carpenters

Mingyu sprinted from his car, heart pounding, as he rushed toward the scene. One of the doctors at the hospital had mentioned that a fire had broken out in a Gangnam district building—your building. His breath was ragged as he pushed through the crowd, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene. Paramedics and firefighters swarmed the area, the flames now subdued, but the remnants of the fire still smoked in the air. A police officer stopped him from moving closer.

"My fiancée lives there," Mingyu gasped, his voice tight with anxiety.

Just as the officer held him back, he spotted you in the distance. You were casually walking, still in your pajamas, holding a half-eaten ice cream cone. Mingyu's eyes widened, watching as your expression changed the moment you took in the sight of your charred apartment building.

"My apartment!" you exclaimed, your voice laced with frustration as Mingyu hurried over to you.

Mingyu quickly examined you, scanning for any signs of injury. A wave of relief washed over him when he realized you had been safely outside while the fire ravaged your home. His tense shoulders relaxed for the first time since hearing the news.

"Where were you?" he asked, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you seemed so unfazed by the chaos around you.

You blinked, a bit dazed by everything. "I was out for a meal..."

Mingyu glanced at his watch—half and an hour left before his surgery. "I'm glad you're alright. I’ll drive you to my place for now. I’ve got surgery in an hour."

The procedure went smoothly, but exhaustion weighed heavily on him as he sat in his office afterward. All he wanted was to go home and collapse into bed. But he hesitated, remembering that you were now at his apartment. The two of you had never really shared a space before, and the thought made him uneasy. After all, this wasn’t a typical engagement.

A year ago, your families had arranged for you two to be engaged. It was strictly business—a merger of two powerful legacies. Your family owned the hospital where Mingyu worked, while his family operated a successful medical and paramedical equipment company. It made sense for the families to align themselves, and though the proposal had taken him by surprise, Mingyu agreed to the engagement. What really caught him off guard was that you agreed too.

From what Mingyu knew, you ran a small homemade Korean restaurant near Seoul University. It wasn’t a huge enterprise, but it had a loyal customer base thanks to its affordable prices and excellent food. When news of the engagement broke, everyone speculated that your family needed Mingyu to step in and continue running the hospital, especially since you showed no interest in taking it over yourself. Mingyu knew he benefited a lot from this arrangement—more than he was willing to admit sometimes.

It was nearly morning when Mingyu finally arrived home, expecting you to be fast asleep. He took a quick shower, hoping to unwind before getting some rest. But when he stepped into the living room, he nearly jumped out of his skin. You were sitting on the couch, staring into the darkness.

"You scared me!" Mingyu muttered, his heart still racing. "Why aren’t you sleeping?"

You shot him a sharp look, your voice dry. "My house just burned down. How could I possibly sleep soundly?"

Ah, right. He had forgotten that small but important detail.

"Right... of course." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, make yourself at home. Feel free to use the kitchen if you want breakfast. I’ll head to bed."

Mingyu retreated to his room, hoping for some much-needed rest. But as he lay there, he found sleep impossible. His mind kept drifting back to the strange reality that the two of you were now sharing a roof. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you—far from it. You were smart, independent, and capable. But the idea of being engaged, living together, and yet still feeling like you were strangers unnerved him in ways he couldn’t quite explain.

"Yeah, she's fine. She's alright. She's with me. I'll handle things with the building owner about her place. You don’t have to worry, sir." Mingyu reassured your father over the phone as he finished getting ready for work.

Despite having only gotten three hours of sleep, Mingyu needed to be at the hospital for an early morning meeting as the branch director. He had already filled your father in on last night’s fire, assuring him that you were safe and staying with him for the time being. Ending the call, he stepped out of the closet and made his way to the kitchen, where he was greeted by the sight of you preparing breakfast.

You were wearing one of his shirts.

"I’ll call you later, sir," Mingyu said quickly before hanging up, his eyes immediately locking with yours as he entered the kitchen.

You glanced at him briefly, then gestured for him to sit down as you placed the plates on the table. Mingyu couldn’t help but stare for a moment. You must have noticed because you spoke up.

"I didn’t have any clothes with me," you explained, a hint of self-consciousness in your voice. "I borrowed your shirt, if you don’t mind."

Mingyu nodded. "It's fine."

An awkward silence lingered for a moment before he asked, "Is there anything you need to do today?"

You thought for a second. "I definitely need to get some clothes first. And maybe check on the restaurant."

Mingyu thanked you for the food as you joined him at the table. He picked up his spoon, and as soon as he took a bite, his eyes widened in surprise. The breakfast was incredible. He had visited your restaurant a couple of times and knew you were the mastermind behind the recipes, having graduated with a degree in culinary arts. But still, he hadn’t expected his simple morning meal to taste this good.

"How about your belongings?" he asked between bites. "Anything important you need to check, like documents or valuables?"

"Luckily, I left all my important documents at my parents' place," you said, relieved. "But I do need to talk to the building owner about the fire and the damage."

Mingyu nodded thoughtfully. "I’ll go with you."

You both finished breakfast in comfortable silence, and as Mingyu got up to leave for work, he thanked you again for the meal. Before heading out, he made a few calls, one to the aunt who cleaned his house regularly, asking her to pick up some women’s clothes for you, and another to the building manager to arrange an extra parking space for your car.

As he drove to the hospital, he reflected on the morning. He hadn’t expected starting the day with you to feel so... easy. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like if your engagement weren’t just a business arrangement. The thought lingered in the back of his mind as he went on with his day.

"Doctor Kim, thank you for the meal!" the nurses chimed in as Mingyu passed by the emergency room station during his daily rounds.

He blinked in confusion, unsure of what they were referring to. Then, he spotted the neatly packed meals from your restaurant sitting on the counter. You had sent food to his staff. It was thoughtful—something he hadn't expected but appreciated. Mingyu smiled and waved to the nurses, telling them to enjoy the meal before heading to his office, where he found a meal from your restaurant waiting for him as well.

Mingyu quickly shot you a text: Thanks for the meal, everyone’s enjoying it.

You didn’t respond, and Mingyu wasn’t surprised. He rarely texted you, and from what he had observed, you were just as busy as he was. He could understand if you weren’t glued to your phone all the time. Besides, it’s not like he was your priority when it came to messaging.

Over the past week of living together, Mingyu had noticed that the two of you had fallen into a quiet, predictable routine. You would both wake up early, have breakfast together, head off to work, return late in the evening, and go straight to bed. The cycle repeated itself day after day, with only a few short exchanges of "How was work?" or "Did you sleep well?" in between. It was strange to be living under the same roof, sharing meals, and yet feeling like you were still strangers in many ways.

That morning, you casually mentioned that you had signed the lease on a new apartment, not far from your restaurant.

"Do you want to go furniture shopping with me?" you asked over breakfast.

"Sure" Mingyu agreed without hesitation.

And now, here he was, sitting on his couch in a casual outfit, waiting to go furniture shopping with you. It felt like an odd thing to be doing with someone who was supposed to be his fiancée, yet didn’t quite feel like one. Still, Mingyu couldn’t shake the curiosity growing inside him—the thought of spending more time with you, learning more about you beyond the polite small talk and daily routine. He wasn't sure if it would change anything between you, but part of him wanted to try.

"This couch looks good. It fits a lot of people," Mingyu said, running his hand over the fabric as you continued to browse.

You shook your head, clearly unimpressed. "I don't get visitors."

Mingyu chuckled, leaning in a little closer. "What about friends? Boyfriend, maybe?" he teased with a playful grin.

You scoffed and held up your left hand, flashing the engagement ring in front of him. "In case you forgot, I’m engaged."

Mingyu’s eyes flickered to the ring, and he was momentarily struck by the sight of it. You always wore the ring, even though the engagement had been arranged. He, on the other hand, rarely wore his—only during major events or family meetings where it was expected. His profession didn’t really allow for accessories, so he often went without it. But seeing you wear it regularly was a subtle reminder of the commitment hanging between you both.

"Right, how could I forget?" he replied, smoothly continuing the conversation as if the ring hadn’t stirred something unspoken inside him.

Despite the casual banter, the moment felt a little heavier than it should have. He couldn't quite shake the realization that the ring—a symbol of their engagement—was more present in your life than his. It was a quiet declaration, whether intentional or not, that you were his fiancée.

When it came time to pay, Mingyu insisted on covering everything, even after your countless protests. He waved off your refusals, casually brushing them aside as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to take care of it.

"A rib for dinner?" Mingyu requested once he done paying. How dare you to refused.

*

After ten days of living together, Mingyu realized how quiet and empty his place felt without you around. He found himself looking for any excuse to see you, whether it was a quick text, a call, or even dropping by your restaurant. Without fully realizing it, the relationship between the two of you had begun to shift into something he hadn’t expected.

At this point, almost all of your staff knew him. They had even started referring to him as "the boss's handsome fiancé" every time he walked through the door. This month alone, he had visited your restaurant 8 times—sometimes for a meal, sometimes just to drive you home. And he was relieved that you didn’t seem uncomfortable with his presence. In fact, you appeared to be getting used to it, just as he was.

One afternoon, as Mingyu made his rounds at the hospital, he overheard a group of nurses whispering as he passed by, his name mentioned in their conversation.

"If she's the daughter of the owner, then she must be Doctor Kim’s fiancée, right?"

Mingyu, always the friendly type, chimed in with a grin. "I heard my name."

The nurses looked a bit startled but quickly filled him in. "Doctor Kim, the owner's daughter was brought into the emergency room after being assaulted. Isn't she your fiancée?"

What?

Mingyu’s stomach dropped. Without wasting a second, he grabbed his phone and immediately dialed your number. It rang, but someone else picked up.

"Y/n?" he asked, his voice tight with concern.

"Ah, Mr. Kim? She left her phone behind. She's at the hospital right now. A crazy person caused a scene and she got hurt."

Mingyu didn’t wait for more details. He bolted to the emergency room, his mind racing. When he got there, he hurried to the nurses’ station and asked for your whereabouts.

They directed him to a bed where he finally saw you—sitting up, your arm and head wrapped in bandages, while a doctor carefully tended to your injuries. Relief washed over him, but it was mixed with a surge of worry and anger at what had happened.

He approached you cautiously, his heart still pounding in his chest.

You looked up at Mingyu and smiled, a wave of relief washing over you as soon as you saw him by your side. As the doctor finished tending to your wounds, he greeted Mingyu and explained that you would need to wait for the results of the X-ray, as you had hit your head during the incident.

Once the doctor left, Mingyu turned his full attention to you, his eyes scanning over your injuries with a mixture of concern and relief. Without saying a word, he gently pulled you into an embrace, holding you close as if making sure you were really okay.

"I'm so glad it wasn't worse," he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with emotion. He pulled back slightly to look at you. "What happened?"

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the lingering tension from the day. "There was this drunk guy, making a scene in the restaurant. He was about to hit one of my staff, so I stepped in. I got pushed and my head hit the table. This," you pointed to your bandaged arm, "is from some shattered glass."

Mingyu sighed, his jaw tightening in frustration. "I'm calling the police," he said firmly, standing up as if ready to take action immediately.

But you reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him. "It's already been reported. My staff handled it."

Mingyu paused, looking down at you, the worry still clear in his eyes. Though the situation had already been dealt with, his protective instincts were hard to turn off. He sat back down next to you, still holding your hand, as if to reassure himself you were safe now.

Your mother, the vice president, appeared in the emergency room, her presence commanding attention as she quickly made her way toward you. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of her, though you could see the worry etched in her expression.

"My heart dropped when I heard my daughter was in the emergency room. Are you okay, honey?" she asked, her voice laced with concern as she reached out to touch your arm.

"I'm fine, Mom," you reassured her with a small smile, trying to ease her worry.

Mingyu stood quietly to the side, observing the exchange with a sense of relief. He was glad to see how close you were with your family, something he hadn’t really gotten to witness much before.

Then your mother turned her attention to Mingyu, who stood respectfully behind her. Her gaze softened as she acknowledged him.

"Thank you, Mingyu. I heard you’ve been taking care of my daughter, especially after she lost her apartment in the fire. And now you're here again," she said, her gratitude clear.

Mingyu bowed slightly, feeling the weight of her words. "It's my pleasure, ma'am," he responded with sincerity.

Your mother waved off the formality with a warm smile. "No need for 'ma'am.' Call me Mother. After all, you're part of the family now—my daughter's fiancé."

The words caught Mingyu a little off guard, though he masked it with a polite nod. He glanced at you, noticing the subtle shift in the room. The formality of your engagement suddenly felt a bit more personal, more real.

After spending some more time talking with your mother and assuring her you were okay, the X-ray results came back clear. The doctor recommended rest and monitoring for the next few days to ensure there were no lingering effects from the head injury. With that, Mingyu insisted on taking you home.

As you left the hospital, Mingyu walked by your side, his hand resting gently on your lower back as he guided you to the car. The day had been exhausting, but knowing that Mingyu was there gave you a strange sense of comfort. It was a feeling that was becoming more familiar lately.

The drive home was quiet, with Mingyu occasionally glancing over to check on you. You stared out the window, your mind still processing everything that had happened, from the fire at your apartment to the incident today. You felt the weight of it all, but at the same time, there was a sense of relief that you weren’t alone in dealing with it.

When Mingyu pulled into his apartment complex, he parked the car and quickly came around to your side to help you out. You couldn’t help but smile at how attentive he was.

As you sat on the couch, trying to unwind from the long day, Mingyu hovered nearby, clearly still worried. You noticed his eyes flicking over to you every few minutes, as if checking to make sure you were really okay.

"You really should rest," he said, standing up and grabbing a blanket from the nearby chair. "I can see you're exhausted."

"I’m fine, Mingyu," you protested softly, though you knew you needed the rest.

He walked over, gently draping the blanket over you, his hands lingering for a moment as he looked down at you. “Just lie down, please. Doctor's orders,” he added with a small, teasing smile, trying to lighten the mood.

You sighed, giving in. The exhaustion was catching up with you, and the couch felt more comfortable with the blanket wrapped around you. As you shifted to lie down, Mingyu crouched down beside you, his expression softening as he watched you settle.

"Better?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

You nodded, pulling the blanket closer. “Yeah, better.”

He lingered for a moment before standing up again, running a hand through his hair. "I think I’ll stay out here with you, just in case you need anything.”

"You don’t have to—" you started to protest, but Mingyu was already grabbing a pillow for himself and setting it on the other end of the couch.

"I know, but I want to," he said simply, lying down beside you, keeping a respectful distance. “We both need to rest anyway. This way, I’ll be right here if anything happens.”

You turned your head slightly to look at him, noticing how comfortable and natural he seemed lying next to you. The tension that had been hanging in the air for weeks felt like it was slowly fading, replaced by an unexpected sense of ease.

"Alright," you murmured, closing your eyes.

Mingyu lay there quietly, the soft rise and fall of his breathing the only sound in the room. He wasn’t saying much, but his presence was steady, reassuring in a way that made you feel safe. After a few moments, he shifted slightly closer, his hand brushing against yours under the blanket. He didn’t say anything, but the gesture spoke volumes.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you let the quiet warmth between the two of you settle in, realizing that maybe this arrangement between you wasn’t so bad after all.

As you drifted off to sleep, you could feel Mingyu relax beside you. The weight of the day slowly lifted, and with him lying there next to you, it felt easier to rest.

As evening approached, the soft glow of the setting sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm light over the room. You and Mingyu had both woken up from your nap, feeling more rested but still shaken from the day's events. Mingyu sat up, glancing over at you with a gentle smile.

“Do you need anything?” he asked, his voice still soft but with a hint of concern.

You shook your head, feeling more at ease now. “No, I’m okay. Thanks for staying with me.”

He nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Actually, I should probably check and clean your wound properly. Just to make sure it’s healing well.”

You hesitated for a moment but then nodded, realizing it would be reassuring to have him take care of you. Mingyu moved to get a first aid kit from the bathroom, then returned and sat next to you on the couch. As he began to carefully clean the wound on your head, his concentration was palpable.

The proximity brought an unexpected intimacy. Mingyu’s breath lightly brushed against your skin, and you could feel the warmth of his body close to yours. You glanced up at him, and for the first time, you noticed how dangerously close his face was to yours. The closeness made both of you acutely aware of each other, and suddenly, your cheeks flushed a soft pink.

There was a moment of shared awkwardness where neither of you knew quite what to say. Mingyu’s fingers brushed lightly against your forehead, and a nervous laugh escaped both of you simultaneously. The sound was light and shy, a clear indicator of the tension and the new feelings stirring between you.

Mingyu’s hands paused as he looked at you, his eyes meeting yours with an earnest expression. The silence between you was thick with unspoken emotions. He seemed to be gauging your reaction, his gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips.

Without breaking eye contact, Mingyu leaned in slowly, and you felt a rush of anticipation. For a heartbeat, everything seemed to stand still. Then, ever so gently, he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was tender and soft, a simple yet profound gesture that spoke volumes.

You responded instinctively, your lips moving against his in a hesitant, exploring dance. The kiss deepened just slightly, filled with a mutual tenderness that neither of you had expected but both seemed to crave. When Mingyu finally pulled back, his expression was a mix of relief and uncertainty.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, a slight blush still visible on his cheeks. “I just... I needed to do that.”

You smiled softly, reaching out to gently touch his face. “It’s okay. I think I needed it too.”

Mingyu’s smile was more relaxed now, a genuine warmth in his eyes. He resumed cleaning the wound with a renewed calm, the previous tension replaced by a new, comforting closeness. As he finished, you both settled back into the couch, the space between you now filled with a quiet, shared understanding.

Mingyu set aside the first aid kit and took a deep breath, his gaze locking with yours. “I... I know this might sound sudden, but I think we need to talk about where we go from here.”

You looked at him with curiosity and a hint of apprehension, waiting for him to continue.

He shifted slightly, his expression earnest. “I know our relationship started out as a business arrangement, and things between us have been... different from what I expected. But after spending time with you, especially today, I’ve realized something.”

You watched him closely, feeling a flutter of anticipation in your chest.

“Mingyu, what is it?” you asked softly.

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About how we’ve been living together, how you’ve been there for me in ways I didn’t expect. And honestly, I’ve come to realize that I really like you. More than just as my fiancée. I want to be with you, not just because of our families or the arrangement, but because I genuinely care about you.”

His words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity behind them. Mingyu reached out and took your hand in his, his touch gentle and reassuring.

“I want to start over,” he continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I want us to settle everything that’s happened and move forward. I want to take you out on dates, to spend time with you as someone I truly treasure. Not just because it’s what’s expected, but because it’s what I genuinely want.”

Your heart raced as you listened, his confession a mix of relief and excitement. It was clear that Mingyu wasn’t just fulfilling a duty anymore—he was speaking from the heart.

“I’ve felt the same way,” you admitted, squeezing his hand. “I never expected this arrangement to lead to something real, but it has. I’ve come to care about you a lot, and I’d like to see where this could go, too.”

Mingyu’s face brightened with a hopeful smile. “So, are we starting over then? Taking a chance on something that’s more than just an arrangement?”

You nodded, a smile of your own spreading across your face. “Yes, let’s start over. I’d like that.”

With a sense of newfound clarity and excitement, Mingyu leaned in and kissed you again, this time with a deeper sense of commitment. It was a kiss that promised not just the continuation of an engagement but the beginning of something much more meaningful.

As the evening drew on, you and Mingyu talked more about your hopes and plans for the future, feeling a sense of anticipation and warmth. The journey ahead was still uncertain, but now it was a journey you were both eager to take together, as partners who truly cared for each other.

*

“Because you’re handsome?” Mingyu chuckled softly, clearly amused by your answer. He had asked you why you accepted the engagement in the first place, and he hadn’t expected your candid response.

“Of course, you’re very handsome and attractive,” you said with a playful glint in your eye. “But beyond that, I didn’t have anyone special, and I didn’t want to go against my parents’ kind intentions, especially when it didn’t harm me.”

“You didn’t go against it?” Mingyu asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

You paused to think before shaking your head. “No, not at all. I wasn’t planning to get married. I was just focused on my business.”

Mingyu nodded thoughtfully. “How about now?”

“What do you mean now?” you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.

“Get married,” he clarified. “Do you want to get married?”

It had been three years since the engagement, and throughout that time, you and Mingyu had maintained your commitment to each other. Even though your parents had pushed for a wedding, you both had insisted on getting to know each other better. It was only after a year of engagement that you truly began to enjoy each other’s presence.

“With you?” you asked innocently, and Mingyu rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t with me. Do you want to get married to me?”

A scowl formed on your face as you stared at him, your emotions a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Are you proposing?”

Mingyu laughed, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Why? You don’t like it, baby?”

The scowl melted away, replaced by a warm and genuine smile. “I’d love to. I’ve been happy these two years with you. Why not be happy forever?”

Mingyu’s expression softened as he cupped your cheeks gently. “You’re really happy?”

You nodded, your eyes shining with sincerity.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. “Then I’m happy too.”

In that moment, it felt as if everything had come full circle. The uncertainty of the past had given way to a future filled with promise, and both of you were ready to embrace it together.

[camille-plumb]

✞︎𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ✞︎

✮Types of Cars and sex car situation feat Itoshi Rin Itoshi Sae, Michael Kaiser, Ryusei Shidou, Yoichi Isagi, Oliver Aiku.NSFW +18

Song: Starboy by The Weeknd

"We don't pray for love, we just pray for cars"

Warning: Smut.🔞

Tags: Personality types, description, types of car sex.

✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥

➪ITOSHI SAE Car type: Bugatti Chiron

☆Sae Itoshi has an enigmatic presence that captivates everyone without saying a word. His demeanor is cold and calculating, but with a touch of mystery that makes him even more irresistible. ☆At first glance, he appears to be the calm, distant type who focuses on his career without showing emotion. However, in his gaze and the way he moves, there is a subtle, almost defiant confidence, as if he were keeping a secret only he knows. ☆That apparent calm hides an extravagant personality that is unleashed at the right moments, like when he steps on the accelerator of his Bugatti Chiron, that car that is not just a luxury, but an extension of his soul: perfect, powerful, unattainable. ☆He loves to surround himself with the best that life has to offer, but always with a personal touch that distinguishes him. His clothes, his watches, the music he listens to... everything is designed to maintain that air of mystery, as if every detail has a hidden purpose. ☆He likes to be admired, but he keeps a calculated distance, like a game only he knows how to play. Sex car situation🔥🔥🔥: -"Come on, stop complaining and suck it all off. I know you can do it. Greedy little things like you never let a drop go to waste." He grips your head tightly, forcing you to take his entire length in your mouth while he drives his Bugatti Chiron with total concentration and no flinch. "If you stain my suit, your little ass will pay the consequences."

➪MICHAEL KAISER Car type: Lamborghini Aventador S Roadste

☆ Michael Kaiser is everything a person could imagine when thinking of arrogance incarnate. His presence is not only felt, it commands attention. ☆ His attitude is not only one of confidence, but of such evident superiority that anyone around him knows they are standing before someone who believes themselves unattainable. ☆ Nothing underlines his personality more than his blue Lamborghini Aventador S Roadster, a car that not only reflects his love of ostentatiousness but also becomes an extension of his soul. Driving it is not just a luxury; it's a statement of intent. The car is his emblem: flashy, fast, luxurious, and, above all, a reflection of his worldview: he is above everyone, and nothing and no one can reach him. ☆ Despite his arrogance, he has an intellectual side that makes him even more dangerous. He is passionate about philosophy, especially the ideas of power and control. Nietzsche and Machiavelli are his favorite references, and he doesn't just read them, he lives them. ☆ He likes to be admired, but he also enjoys the idea that no one really knows who he is, or what he's thinking. "The Emperor" is, in many ways, a mystery wrapped in luxury, arrogance, and power.

Sex car situation🔥🔥🔥: "Mein Liebe, stop holding back, let yourself go" the sound of your bodies thumping is silenced by the roar of his car"Free yourself for me, Mein Liebe, focus on my eyes and keep jumping…" You turn your blushing face without stopping moving your hips; the backseat is uncomfortable, but you can only do as you're told"That's it, Mein Liebe, let yourself go… and give it all to me"the blond's voice comes out as a suppressed growl as he takes your waist, helping you"mmm… Ness, stop looking at my girlfriend and focus on driving, idiot, or you'll kill us all…"

➪ITOSHI RIN Car type: Chevrolet Corvette Stingray

☆ Rin projects a cold, distant, and indifferent demeanor, almost as if he were always above everything and everyone. ☆ However, there is something in his gaze, in his bearing, that conveys an overwhelming confidence, a certainty that goes beyond words. ☆ Like his Chevrolet Corvette Stingray, his presence is fierce and commanding, yet he maintains a quiet elegance that makes him even more captivating. ☆ But when his control slips, when the situation destabilizes, or someone challenges him, Rin loses his cool. In those moments, his coldness fades, and a primal force emerges: the need to reclaim what is his at all costs. It is in these moments that his indifferent demeanor transforms into something darker: a fierce, possessive, and dangerous passion that makes it clear he cannot tolerate defeat. ☆ Rin doesn't seek admiration; what truly matters to him is knowing that he is the best and that no one is above him. Sex car situation🔥🔥🔥: "Rin... Rin... Rin... stop~" you gasp, unable to move your hands. They're tied to the backseat of his car in a knot made by his tie. "Someone... can see us... ah"~ you gasp as you feel his erection against your buttocks. "I don't give a shit if they can see us," he slaps loudly. "If they want you, all that matters is that you're mine..."

YOICHI ISAGI Car type: Audi R8 V10

☆ Isagi is a man of two faces, as calm as winter and as warm as summer. ☆ You should always expect some surprises from him; he can go from being aggressive and dominant to tender and submissive. ☆ This duality is also reflected in his relationship with his Audi R8 V10: while the car is synonymous with power and speed, he drives it with surprising calm, seeking to disconnect and enjoy peace. His ability to balance these two worlds is what makes him a fascinating figure, someone who knows when to be unstoppable and when to relax. ☆ He likes to live surrounded by the best, but without making too much noise about it. His personal style, his way of moving through the world, all reflect this mix of sophistication and simplicity. ☆ Although he likes to be admired, his modesty and shyness lead him to blush easily, revealing a vulnerable side that few ever get to see.

Sex car situation🔥🔥🔥: —Yo…cha…n….your parents are waiting for us…ah~— the cold wind of the place runs through your bare legs as does his tongue in your folds, you are on the road with the door of his car open and with your boyfriend between your legs —I can't anymore ahh~— you release your juices with red cheeks, you look up and see him licking his lips with a smile —Do you like me love? I couldn't wait until I got there, not after you had your hand on my crotch the whole trip— open your legs raising them on his shoulders— Now if you excuse me, I won't arrive at my parents' house with an erection~— you close your eyes listening to how his tender voice turns into a dangerous growl.

RYUSEI SHIDOU Car type: Maserati Quattroporte

☆ At first glance, Ryusei Shidou seems like the extroverted type, always at the center of the action, seeking the spotlight, causing sensations with his energy, and pushing others to the limit with his jokes and attitude. ☆ He loves to surround himself with luxury and sophistication, but he always does it his way: with a personal style that blends the class of a high-end car with the recklessness of a daredevil driver. ☆ This fun-and-games facade hides an unstoppable personality that is unleashed on the field, like when he fearlessly accelerates his Maserati, leaving everyone behind with a risky maneuver or a brutal tackle. ☆ From his flashy attire to his defiant attitude, everything has a purpose. It's not just an appearance; it's a declaration that he's not afraid to stand out, and to do so in the most unpredictable ways. ☆ He loves to be admired and is close to his fans. He shares many moments from his personal life, from social media jokes to in-game interactions, making his audience feel like part of his world.

Sex car situation🔥🔥🔥: "You're such a shameless babe, moaning while I'm driving, anyone would think I'm doing something to you." The pink-haired man's smile spreads across his lips as he steps on the accelerator of his Maserati. "Please…" You beg, feeling the vibrator speed up in your intimacy. "Please, nothing, wait until we get home."You let out a moan, wetting the floor mat of his luxurious car as you close your eyes. "Okay, we have a few minutes before the traffic starts and I get a ticket again." He parks the car, quickly opening your door to spank you as he takes the vibrator out of you and plays with his fingers. "Oh, do you hear that, baby? That's the sound of police sirens, haha, this will be fun."

OLIVER AIKU Car type: Mercedes Mansory

☆ Oliver Aiku has a personality as captivating and solid as his favorite car, a Mercedes Mansory, a perfect blend of elegance and power that doesn't go unnoticed. His gaze, though deep and confident, conveys a surprising warmth, making him seem approachable and friendly to everyone. ☆ He's the type of person who greets with a smile and seems genuinely interested in the people around him, which makes him seem trustworthy and approachable. But behind that friendly and charming appearance, there's an unshakeable confidence, a man who knows exactly what he wants and how to get it. ☆ He can be trusted in any situation under pressure because he knows how to stand firm under any circumstances. He doesn't allow himself to waver, and his presence is always dominant, like an insurmountable wall that never gives up. ☆ Although his warm gaze and kind demeanor are deceptive, deep down he's a real danger to women. He's a born womanizer, capable of charming with his easy smile and luxurious lifestyle. He plays with emotions, but never compromises. He knows how to make people feel special, but in the end, he always maintains emotional distance. ☆ His style reflects this duality: always impeccable, with a rugged aesthetic that combines elegance and strength. He wears clothes with defined cuts, dark colors, and details that denote luxury, but without ostentation. Sex car situation🔥🔥🔥: —mmm…you said we were going to see your sick mother...aaah~ —the sound of bodies thumping on the hood of the Mercedes Mansory is silenced by the bustle of the city nearby— I'm sorry, baby, I lied to you, but you can't deny that you've wanted it since you got in my car— you dig your nails into his back without being able to stop yourself— I promise to make it up to you, is a Louis Vuitton bag enough for you?

✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥✞︎❥

[yoru-exe]

PHAINON ۫ ꣑ৎ woe of a hero

"we were just about to leave marmoreal market when the big bad guys blocked our path. they were everywhere!", the boy recounted his story with so much vigor. thankfully, your young patient didn't move too much for you to attend to his sprained ankle.

under your makeshift medical tent, the wounded were resting as they waited for the heirs to provide their needed assistance managing the damage left by nikador's titankins. a lot of building and materialistic goods were affected, but so far, you've only observed minor injuries.

"but then mr. chartonus came and helped us! i wanted to go back but now that my ankle is sprained..".

"chartonus is in a good state, you have nothing to fear", phainon suddenly appeared behind you, and the boy's eyes widened with delight.

"lord phainon!".

you kept your composure but truth be told, you're as delighted as he was, if not more. you've been waiting all day for your lover to stop by with no avail. part of you were happy that perhaps he's not in any urgent need for your care. another part of you were worried sick if something had happened to him.

the boy and his mother excused themselves right after you completed your treatment to find their savior to thank him. now that you had your attention undivided on phainon, you moved to inspect him. but before you get to do anything, phainon grabbed your face by the chin and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

"i wanted to come by sooner. but the market was in a bad shape and i can't just turn a blind eye. tribbie told me you're unharm, but still, i apologise for making you wait".

your legs felt weak. if it wasn't for his strong arms wrapped around your body, you would have fallen. but you managed to shake your head, "i'm glad you're alright".

when you caught what you just said, your attention was pulled back to his state, "did you sustain any injury?". the hero chuckled. he loved how attentive you were to your responsibility even though you could've just bask in each others' presence and forget about the world for a moment.

"i received a few, although nothing too serious. i've patched them up, but it'd be great if you could have a look at the ones on my back. i can't quite reach them by myself". you nodded and rushed to gather a fresh supply of medical equipments. when you returned, your lover was halfway stripping the top part of his clothes, making you jump.

he tilted his head with an unspoken question, and you mentally kicked yourself to recenter your focus on the task at hand.

as you fell into the rhythm of your work, you noticed how phainon had been uncharacteristically quiet. you decided to give him a moment. after all, the holy city that ought to be the safest haven just received a heavy attack. he must be shaken to an extent.

your worry resurfaced when his silence persisted even after you finished. he didn't even notice you've moved yourself to stand in front of him.

gently, you cupped his face in your palms, caressing his skin, careful not to startled him.

"o-oh, hey".

"hey yourself. is everything alright?".

he forced a smile, trying to reassure you that it wasn't concerning enough for you to worry about, but knowing you, you'd probably see pass his deception. he looked away, sighing, "just a few things on my mind".

he stopped himself there, and you took it as a sign that he's not ready to open his worry up to you, yet. it's something you've grown to respect. you couldn't begin to imagine the burden he carries as the prophesised saviour of the world. the least you could do was comfort him, even if just a little bit.

you closed the gaps between the two of you, embracing him close to your heart. "you can confine in me when you're ready. i'll always be here".

he was unresponsive for a moment, letting your words sink in. then, he wrapped his arms around your body. the tightness didn't hurt in any manner, but it's apparent how desperate he was, as if trying not to drown in his own dark thoughts with you as his anchor.

there were a thousand things he could say in reply. he could even began to sing an ode to your love or recite a romantic poem or two (you know by experience he would), but he simply said, "thank you", pressing his face deeper into your embrace. you could feel his lips stretching to form a smile, a peaceful one this time.

your slowly swayed with him still in your hold. relief filled your system to the sound of his laughter which made you smile yourself.

"do you know how much i love you?"

"do enlighten me, if you'd be so kind", you leaned down to meet his lips halfway. this time, he took his time to savour it with only you in his mind.

"i wish i could just stay here", he exhaled. "do you think aglaea will be mad if i'm not out there playing hero?".

"oh i think she'll lose her mind". to that, the both of you shared a laughter.

he excused himself when an elderly women seek your medical assistance, but not before he promised to stop by again later. you watched his wide back, the hero so strong-bodied, yet his heart was so tender. silently, you sent him a prayer for a safe return.

✿ AUTHOR'S NOTE ✿

boy oh boy, this man sure YAPS. anywho, i only managed to watch bits and pieces of the playthrough as of now so please forgive me for any canon details that i missed. i also would like to note that i do not think our beloved snowy is tired of being a hero, just a little overwhelmed at times, so please don't take this too seriously

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: BANG CHAN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: WOLF!CHAN, BUNNY!READER, FEM!READER, RUT/HEAT, READER IS BASICALLY ALWAYS HORNY, IMPLIED THAT READER GET S3XUALLY HARRASED (NOT BY CHAN), MENTION POSSESSIVE CHAN, ORAL (F. RECEIVING), BOOB/NIPPLE PLAY, UNPROTECTED SEX (WRAP BEFORE YOU TAP!), DEGRADING/PRAISE, READER PERCIEVED TO BE ON BIRTH CONTROL, READER IS HYPER-FERTILE B/C BUNNY TRAIT, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, MULTIPLE ROUNDS, PREDATOR/PREY (IF YOU SQUINT), KNOT/RUT, IMPLIED MORE ROUNDS, UNREALISTIC STAMINA ☾ ━━━ WC: 2K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Outside, he was human. That’s just how he appeared to everyone else. A human with a bunny hybrid girlfriend. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for hybrids to date humans if they weren’t with people with similar breeds and them. 

     Y/n would laugh at her boyfriend's attitude every day. He was particularly clingy, always had been. That was just him; he loved having his girlfriend near him when he was home, always checking on her throughout the day, even when she was at work. Chan loved his little bunny. 

     Y/n just thought it was funny a big ‘ole alpha wolf dotted on a little bunny like her. Predator and prey were never particularly friendly. But after years of humans, monsters, and hybrids all living side by side, everyone took more to their human side. Only rarely acting on their animalistic instincts in certain cases. 

     But Y/n loved her wolfie all the same. Chan took care of her in so many ways, never crossing boundaries. Even when his instincts took over. 

     Chan was naturally possessive as an alpha. What’s his is his, especially his girlfriend. Some humans still didn’t fully accept hybrids and Monsters living among them. And it’d show. It usually got worse during the time his rut was approaching. 

     There’d been a few people he’d scared the ever-loving shit out of when they commented on his girlfriend— or got too close for comfort. Some people needed to learn to keep their fantasies to themselves. 

    Y/n being a bunny came with its issues. Due to the bunny gene, she’s constantly in ‘heat’. He didn’t mind though, he loved coming home late just for Y/n to jump on him and greet him with kisses. Making sure to ask about his day as if she hadn’t been craving his dick in her since they finished this morning. 

     Another thing that came with her bunny genes was hyper-fertility. Chan never had an issue with the amount of sex they had. At first, he was cautious about coming in her due to how easily she could be pregnant. She’d told him after he mentioned going away for his ruts that she was on high-dose birth control and had been for years.

     It’d lead to some fun experiments with toys and such, but nothing compared to Chan. The growls he admitted when he fucked her could make her come. 

     Chan was well aware of his rut schedule before dating Y/n. And he was pretty damn good at keeping track of it too. Both of them knew it would be starting very soon and already made plans with their work to be off for the next week.

     Y/n’s ears twitched from where she sat on their couch when she heard the keys jingle. She hopped off the couch to meet him at the door. Giving him just enough time to lock their door and turn around before she jumped on him

     Chan smiled as he caught her, dropping his bag on the floor and wrapping both his arms around her. Her legs held her up, wrapping them around his waist as she held his shoulders. “Hi handsome,” Y/n smiled at him

     “Hi bunny,” Chan replied as he walked them over to the couch 

     “How was work?” Y/n asked him 

     “Okay. Same old shit,” Chan sighed as he laid her back on the couch. Resting his head on her tummy, “How was your day?”

     “Good. Just cleaned up around the apartment,” Y/n shrugged as she ran her fingers through his dark hair. 

     The couple always found this comforting, sitting in silence and cuddling up together. Y/n learned quickly in their relationship that Chan loved having his hair played with. Any time was a good time. The first time she did it was after the first time they had sex and he got very comfortable and let out a low little rumble that scared her a bit. 

     After that, she learned it was a happy noise, not an “I’m about to eat you” noise. She loved hearing it now. Especially when he was laying on her stomach.

     “You smell good,” Chan started as he turned and kissed her stomach. Realizing she was wearing one of his shirts. 

     “Your rut coming soon?” 

     “Think so.” Chan kissed down her stomach more before pushing her shirt up just a bit to see her skin. 

     Chan kissed every bit of skin that was exposed to him. He loved taking his time with her when he was going through his rut because he knew he’d be fucking her in every position as rough as he could when it came to his rut. She never complained about but he still felt a little for fucking her for almost a week straight.  

     Chan kept kissing down her tummy till he got to her panty line. He looked up in a silent ask for permission to keep going. Y/n nodded before he kissed her clothed clit while moving her thighs over his shoulder. Kissing her inner thighs before moving back to kissing her cunt again. Smiling to himself when he saw the wet spot forming. “Horny little bunny,” Chan chuckled before sitting up and throwing off his shirt from his body and her panties from hers before laying back down and wrapping his lips around her clit. 

     Y/n moaned as she dug her fingers into his hair again. Lips and tongue working her already wet cunt. His nose nudged her clit as his tongue slipped inside of her. Thrusting in and out before replacing the muscle with two of his fingers. 

     “Chan,” Y/n moaned as she held onto his hair tighter, thighs clenching around his head. 

     Chan hummed as his lips wrapped around her clit again. His fingers pumped in and out of her as quickly as he could. Y/n pulled at his hair as her thighs shook around his head and closed in tighter. 

     Chan pulled his fingers out and pushed her thighs closer to her chest as he finished her off and licked up her essence. Drinking her up like a thirsty dog on a hot summer day. 

     “Chan, in… please,” Y/n whined as she caught her breath from her high. 

     “Poor little bunny is fucked out already,” Chan chuckled as he dropped her thighs on the couch before picking her up from the cushions and walking into their bedroom. 

     Chan placed her down on the bed and kissed her neck. Y/n let out a squeak as he grabbed onto the back of his neck. His hips rolled into her before he pulled away and took off her shirt and tossed it to the bedroom floor. 

     He leaned back down as his hands grabbed her boobs and massaged them before taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on the little bud. Rolling his tongue and biting it a few times before moving to the other one and giving it the same attention. 

     His hard-on strained against his pants while the fabric got wetter from grinding against her. 

     “Please. Fuck me Channie,” Y/n moaned

     “Little bunny just needs a cock in her, huh?” Chan teased as he pulled away from her boobs and stood up straight

     “Yes, please. Need you in me Channie,” Y/n begged as she watched him discard his pants and boxers. Cock springing free and slapping his lower stomach. 

     “Don't worry bun,” Chan smiled as he moved her onto their pillows and kneeled in between her legs.

     He pulled her legs over his right as he pumped his cock. Running the tip through her wet folds and jacking off again before finally lining the tip up with her entrance and pushing in. 

     Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist as he filled her up. His hands grabbed onto her hips, pulling her onto him as he sunk further into her. 

     Y/n slightly rolled her hips against him before he pulled back and thrust hard into her. Chan repeated his hard thrusts and occasionally pulled her body to meet his thrusts as well. 

     Y/n threw her head back into the pillows. The tips of her ears hit the headboard a bit as it knocked against the wall in time with his pace. Chan moved one of his hands up to squeeze her boobs while he leaned forward, aiming deeper into her.

     “‘M close,” Y/n whined as his thrusting switched to grinding then back to thrusting into her.

     “Gonna cum all over my cock again bun?” Chan moved one hand from her tits to thumb her clit, fingers pushing in on her lower stomach just a bit

     “Yes!” Y/n yelled/moaned as her walls clenched around him. 

     “Fuck,” Chan growled as he found it a bit difficult to move with her clamping down on him. 

     He pushed through though. Thumbing rubbing small quick circles into her clit till she came on his cock. Her hips bucked up as her legs shook. Chan leaned back over her, hands laying next to her head as he rutted into her.

     Cock twitched and pounded inside her till he came, shooting hot ropes of cum into her. He pulled his softening cock out of her once he was sure he was done. Both of them panting as post-orgasm clarity came.

     That clarity was short-lived as Chan caught a glance of his cum dripping out of her. The only thoughts in his head were to fuck it back into her and add more.

     “Chan,” Y/n called out to him as she noticed him staring a bit longer than usual.

     She attempted to close her thighs as she sat up on her elbows, only to be met by him spreading her legs apart and sinking into her again without a word. Chan leaned over and left an assault of kisses and marks along her neck. Pushing her down onto the mattress again, one hand coming and grabbing under her chin and moving her head to allow him to have access to the span of her neck.

     “Pretty bunny, letting the big bad wolf fuck her dumb.” He mumbled against her neck.

     Y/n whined as she wrapped her legs around his waist as he hammered into her. His free hand grabbed one of hers and pinned it onto the pillows as he sucked hickeys on her neck, minding his teeth. 

     Y/n grabbed onto his shoulder with her free hand. Nails dug into his skin as her sensitive walls clenched around him again. She never protested Chan’s round after round when he was in his rut. If anything it helped her too with the constant ache between her legs.

     Chan growled against her neck as he felt himself getting close already. Y/n could feel the base of his cock starting to form his knot as he pumped into her. It was getting harder for him to do so until he buried himself in her. Just in time for her own orgasm to hit while her walls contracted around him. Coming on his cock again. 

     “Fuck,” Chan whined as his cum shot into her. 

     He buried his head into her neck and kissed the bruises he had made, just trying to distract himself from the pain of his knot. His hands moved to hold her hips, rubbing circles into the skin with his thumbs

     Y/n tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed his temple, “horny wolf,” she chuckled

     “Says you,” Chan chuckled, lifting his head to look at her, “I’d fuck you again right now of not for the knot.”

     “Don’t threaten me with a good time babe,” Y/n giggled

     Chan chuckled with her and leaned down and pressed his lips onto hers. Whining into her mouth as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Y/n happily accepted as she rolled her hips against him. His knot went down after a few minutes. 

     “Tired yet mama?” Chan asked as his kisses moved down to her neck again

     “No,” Y/n shook her head

     Chan rolled them over so she was situated on top of him.

     “Hop to it bunny,” Chan smacked her ass playfully before laying back and holding onto her hips. 

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[roosterr]

Hi idk if you're accepting requests but I literally just read the amnesia fic, and I was wondering if I could request where reader suddenly remembers everything, and sprints around base trying to find them, and just jumps on them crying and apologizing for forgetting them. Just some really fluffy comfort? It's okay if you don't want to write this lol

the 141 when you have amnesia – p2

note: i have received your therapy bills :)

wc: 5.2k

warnings: still a bit angsty I'm sorry I couldn't resist, fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injury and blood, happy endings for all I promise

ao3

[part one]

price

✹ john thought your initial reaction was a good sign. you seemed to be taking things well, considering the extent of your injuries, and it was only a matter of time before your memories returned.

✹ your spirits are high when you're reintroduced to the team, and though you don't remember them either you do say they feel familiar, which he takes as a good sign for your recovery.

✹ when you're finally discharged, he takes you home, to the house that the two of you bought together. he shows you the photos of the two of you that decorate the walls, fondly retelling the stories of each one to you even though you were there, and these are your pictures.

✹ if you notice the way he chokes up when you get to your wedding photos, you don't say anything.

✹ like the true gentleman he is, he insists on sleeping on the sofa and leaving you to take the bed, despite your protests about it being his home too. even though you were receptive, he would never risk making you uncomfortable by sleeping in the same bed when he was, essentially, a stranger.

✹ in all your years of marriage, he's never slept on the sofa before. the two of you rarely go to bed without each other, apart from the times you're separated by your job, and consequently he finds himself not getting much rest.

✹ you're still on leave while you're physically recovering from being in a coma, so john has to go to work without you every morning, something he also hasn't done since you got married. he wishes he could bring you with him anyway, just to have you near him, but he knows that's selfish and you still need time.

✹ the base is dull without you.

✹ again, he keeps up the appearance that he's okay, and maybe it's a little more true this time now that you're actually awake, but he still feels your absence like a weight on his shoulders.

✹ the other three are pleased amongst themselves about your recovery, gaz and soap constantly asking him how you are; and he knows they mean well, but it's still irritating because how could you be okay? you don't even remember your own husband, nothing about this is okay.

✹ he keeps his grievances to himself though. he's still their captain, he can't afford to fall apart when he still has a job to do.

✹ he's woken up one night by soft footsteps in the living room. his neck aches as his eyes snap open, every sense on high alert until he realises it's just you. a quiet grunt escapes him as he sits up, massaging his sore muscles from sleeping on the sofa.

✹ when the sound of muffled crying reaches his ears, he's immediately on his feet, his heart racing as he shuffles over to where you're standing with a hand covering your mouth.

✹ he presses a hand to your back, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. you don't look at him, your crying only increasing in volume now you're not worried about waking him.

✹ now that he's right next to you, he sees through the darkness that you're holding one of your wedding photos. it's his favourite picture, the one where he's lifting you with an arm around your waist and you're both gazing into each other's eyes with the most lovestruck expression on your faces.

✹ "i– i know i love you, so wh-why can't i just remember you?" you sputter in between sobs, and you might as well have just ripped his heart out of his chest, because he can't stop the way he breaks down at your words.

✹ john wraps both arms tightly around you, caging you to his chest and nestling your head into the crook of his shoulder while pressing his own tear-stained face into the top of your head.

✹ "it's alright, love–" his voice cracks pitifully, and he's never felt quite as hopeless as he does in this moment. "it'll be alright, you'll remember, i promise…"

✹ he's not sure who he's trying to convince, you or himself as you both sink to the floor in each other's embrace. you stay like that for hours, crying for your lost memory into the early morning.

✹ after that, he can't be bothered to pretend he's okay anymore.

✹ he starts drinking again, shamelessly in the middle of the day and grumbling at gaz and ghost when they wrestle the bottle away from him. he knows you'd disapprove, but the toll of lying to himself and everyone around him has caught up. all he wanted was his partner back, the love of his life, you.

✹ the others try to knock some sense into him, but talking to him becomes like going back and forth with a brick wall. gaz even gets kate on the phone to yell at him, but nothing seems to get through. he orders them to leave him alone, stop asking about you, and it really feels like he's lost hope.

✹ it goes on like this for a week straight, nearly a full month since you first woke up.

✹ and then one boring afternoon, there's a commotion outside his office. john hears cheers and shouts from down the corridor, but he can't bring himself to care enough to investigate.

✹ he's not in the mood to celebrate whatever it is they're cheering about anyway.

✹ john's just about to stand and yell at them to shut up, but then you're suddenly standing at his door, slamming it behind you as you rush over to his desk. his face must be the picture of surprise as he swivels in his chair to follow you as you approach, opening his legs for you to stand between them.

✹ his breath catches in his throat as you cup his face, your touch so tender it has his heart hammering against his sternum like the very first time you touched him all those years ago. he plants his hands firmly on your hips, too afraid of getting his hopes up to say a single word as he watches you get closer.

✹ your face hovers just above his, warm breath fanning over his face as you inch ever closer. he sees your eyes glistening before they flutter shut, brushing your lips against his with an anticipation that has his skin tingling.

✹ when you pull away, his eyes stay closed, but he can hear the smile in your voice when you whisper,

✹ "i remember you now."

✹ his heart might’ve actually stopped at your words, surprise shooting through him like a bolt of lightning as his eyes snap open.

✹ in a second, he's lifting you by the waist and dropping you onto his desk, uncaring for the various papers that he brushes out of the way to make room for you.

✹ he can't stop the overjoyed laugh that rumbles in his chest now he's the one standing between your legs, gripping your face and pushing his lips back against your with all the passion he's been bottling up during your recovery.

✹ you smile into the kiss too, wrapping your arms securely around his neck, running your fingers up his neck and through his hair. it feels like a weight has lifted, something heavy in the back of his mind finally dissipating and allowing him to relax into your hold.

✹ the two of you break away after a moment, keeping him close to you as you press your forehead to his. "i'm sorry that i ever forgot you."

✹ "i can think of a way you can make it up to me, love…"

gaz

✹ you're so apologetic about your amnesia, it breaks his heart all over again. what's worse is that he has no idea what to do; he doesn't want to try and force you to remember, that would just stress you out more, but he wants you to remember him so desperately he feels it ache in his bones.

✹ in the end, he decides to just let things play out. he wants you to recover at your own pace, and not just because of him and how he feels about you.

✹ he also doesn't say a word about your relationship, but with how he initially reacted, he's sure you got the idea. you don't mention it either, which admittedly hurts a little, but he's sure the confusion of waking up to having a boyfriend who's name you don't even know is worse than how he feels about it.

✹ kyle vows to take care of you the moment you're discharged. he takes you to your room, shows you where everything is, makes sure you know where he is should you ever need anything, and he even introduces you to the others again.

✹ you still remember your job and how to do it so, once you're physically well enough, you get right back to it. they carry on as normal, the rest of the taskforce – assimilating you back into their nights of drinking and fucking around as if you'd never left.

✹ kyle still doesn't feel right about it.

✹ he doesn't want to treat you like glass, because you're exactly the same as when he first met you. you're still quick-witted, stubborn, and one of the toughest people he knows, you just… don't know him.

✹ it kills him on the inside, but he stays strong for you; the last thing he wants is to become the mess of a man he was when you were out, he doesn't want you to see him like that. he sorely misses spending his nights with you, and talking endlessly about your days to each other. he sends you longing glances every time you look away, wondering if you'd ever feel the same again.

✹ if you can go back to living normally, why can't he?

✹ but as the weeks go by, kyle notices how you start to withdraw, the loneliness that blocks out the light in your eyes that he loves so much. you fade into the background of conversations, sticking to listening rather than engaging.

✹ you watch them from afar, and he still knows you well enough to know what's going through your head. feeling somehow like you belong and also like an outsider at the same time, wishing you could understand the inside jokes you were a part of.

✹ he wishes more than anything that there was something he could do – make you understand that you're wanted, and you're a valuable part of the team even without your memories, but any time he brings it up you simply brush him off with that far away look in your eyes.

✹ three weeks go by before anything changes.

✹ it's the first time in a while they finally have an afternoon off, so of course they decide to spend it playing football on one of the fields within the bounds of the base. soap and ghost on one team, gaz and the captain on the other, with you spectating and keeping score on the sidelines. 

✹ kyle offered to sit out if you wanted to play, but you'd brushed him off with the excuse of wanting to rest and read your book, laying out your jacket on the grass to sit on.

✹ he could tell you weren't all there, but he didn't know how to help you; so he just reassured you that you could call him over if you needed anything, and left you to guard his own jacket and water bottle before running off to join the game.

✹ the whole time he was sprinting around the field, he couldn't stop looking over to you over by the sidelines. he wasn't with it, he hadn't been since you woke up, really, and the others could tell.

✹ price abruptly calls half-time, clapping gaz on the shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "just talk to 'em, before it eats you alive." he chides, pushing him in your direction before he can think to protest.

✹ with a deep sigh and a glace backwards to the others, who shoo him away without a word, he jogs over to where you're sitting. the way the late afternoon sun hits you just right stops kyle dead in his tracks when he catches how it glows in your eyes. he feels a pull in his chest as he approaches you.

✹ you look up from your book as his shadow reaches you, shooting him a tiny smile as he drops himself next to you. he takes a swig from his water bottle as he catches his breath, extremely conscious of the way your teammates are pretending not to watch him while he comes up with the words.

✹ "so, who's winning then?" you ask, turning so you're facing him. he sees how your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.

✹ "aren't you supposed to be keepin' score?" kyle chuckles, shifting slightly closer to you as you look away with a bashful expression. he allows your hands to brush, wanting nothing more than to lock your fingers together.

✹ "i'm not really paying attention."

✹ there's a beat of silence and that helpless feeling is back as he watches you look back out to the field, where the others are still kicking the ball back and forth.

✹ "how you doin'?" he asks, keeping his voice low as he leans in even closer to you. your mouth opens to respond, that slightly off smile back on your face, but before you can he places his hand fully over yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. "actually."

✹ you sigh, heavy and tired, and bring your gaze back over to his. "it's… hard." you begin, your eyes betraying the internal struggle. "and i'm… i know, before, we were–"

✹ he blinks and you're being sent over backwards by a football flying into your face with a smack that makes kyle's ears ring.

✹ immediately he's crouching over you, helping you sit back up and pressing the sleeve of his jacket to your nose, uncaring for the blood that stains it.

✹ "you alright?" he murmurs, gently holding your face as he inspects your nose. you nod, wincing at the movement, and take the sleeve of his jacket from him.

✹ once he's sure you're okay, his vision turns red with anger. it's pretty obvious who kicked the ball when he whips around to see soap kneeling on the ground with his head in his hands.

✹ "oi!" kyle shouts, sending him a deadly glare as he gets up. "soap, what the fuck!"

✹ the man in question looks up from his hands, an incredibly guilty look on his face. "i'm sorry pal! i dinnae ken what happened!"

✹ "just piss off, you prick!"

✹ kyle looks back to you, crouching down again with a concerned frown; but you're already looking at him, the silhouette of his own form reflected in your wide eyes. your nose is still dripping blood, but you drop his jacket and your hands to your lap anyway, mouth agape as you stare back at him.

✹ "what's wrong? are you–"

✹ you cut him off by tackling him to the ground with your arms around his neck, squeezing a surprised 'oof' from him as you land on top of his chest. one of his hands flies to your waist to steady you, the other carefully cradling your head.

✹ "i remember!" you cry, an elated laugh bubbling up as fresh tears wet your cheeks.

✹ kyle lets out a relieved laugh of his own, craning his neck to plant his lips firmly on yours with an infectious grin. in the background the others groan at the display of affection, but neither of you pay them any mind.

✹ eventually the two of you pull away, a wide smile still plastered on both of your faces as you get up from the grass. he pulls you in with the hand that still hasn't moved from your waist and leans to whisper in your ear,

✹ "fancy kickin' soap's arse?"

✹ "you read my mind."

soap

✹ johnny's enthusiastic with your recovery. anyone could've guessed that from the moment you woke up he'd be doting, eager to help you in any way you could need.

✹ yes, you didn't remember him, but be was just so ecstatic that you were okay – apart from the amnesia – that he couldn't find it in himself to be disappointed about it. you'd get your memories back soon enough, and then everything would go right back to the way it was.

✹ sometimes he gets a little carried away, forgets that while you are technically in a relationship, he's not much more than a stranger to you right now. more than once you end up having to ask him for some space because he's so incredibly touchy, and you're not sure how to handle it.

✹ you also request a temporary room to sleep in while you recover, separate from him. johnny's not sure how he feels about it.

✹ he feels that sinking feeling in his chest whenever you push him back with a hand on his chest, a polite smile tugging at your lips. it's disheartening, but he tries not to let it get to him. you'll remember soon, and then this will all be in the past.

✹ maybe you'll even laugh about it, how you could ever forget your wonderful boyfriend.

✹ he takes it upon himself to read up on amnesia, so he can better understand how to help you in any way you might need. once he learns that exposure to memories that you've lost can help your recovery, he eagerly convinces you to let him show you places that have meaning to you and your relationship with him.

✹ you agree, and he didn't actually need to do much convincing because you seem just as interested in the idea as him. he knocks on your door the following evening, offering you a single rose before whisking you away with a charming smile.

✹ he takes you on your first date all over again, with the same level of enthusiasm as before. he treats you to dinner at a relatively nice restaurant, telling you all about how the two of you got together in the first place, and memories you have together. he even orders you dessert, recalling with a chuckle how he accidentally guessed your favourite on your actual first date.

✹ once you both finish eating, he guides you by the hand to the canal for the second half of the date, a romantic moonlit stroll by the water. he pulls you close with an arm around your shoulders, meeting your eyes with a fond smile and a blush dusting his cheeks.

✹ "hold on…" you mutter, a pensive expression taking over your face as you stop walking. you turn to gaze at the water, seemingly working something out in your mind. "this… this is where gaz fell into the river that one time, right?"

✹ johnny's heart misses a beat, his eyes lighting up with renewed, excited hope as he grins at you. "you remember?"

✹ "a little, yeah," you smile, dropping your gaze and hands from his with a sorry scratch at the back of your neck. "the rest is still blank, though…"

✹ his smile falters, but he's quick to make sure you don't see his disappointment by pulling you into a reassuring hug. "that's still somethin'! you'll be good as new in nae time!"

✹ the next morning, he finds you and gaz in the rec room on one of the couches, talking animatedly with each other. that familiar shine is in your eyes, the sight johnny's been missing for the last few months. it makes his heart feel light, finally seeing you acting like your normal self again after so long.

✹ he approaches you both, watching you fondly as you talk and laugh with gaz, but his good mood is soured when you only briefly acknowledge his arrival when he sits down across from you, before resuming your conversation with gaz. his brow twitches downwards.

✹ gaz is one of your closest friends, and he’s glad you remembered him. he's happy that you got part of your memory back, even if it wasn't a part that included him.

✹ this was a good thing. you'd remember him soon, he was sure of it.

✹ a few more days pass until anything else notable happens. while you were in the gym together, you told him you felt a headache coming on, so he offered to walk you to the infirmary for some painkillers. the casual conversation you made on the way wouldn't have bothered him before, but he just couldn't shake the image of you and gaz being so comfortable, while he's still stuck on the outside.

✹ he doesn't say anything though. making you feel bad about it won't solve anything, and it's not like you're doing it on purpose, he knows you wouldn't do that to him. you were just excited to have a familiar face, that's all.

✹ while you're waiting for the medic on call, your head suddenly snaps to attention and you get that same pensive look on your face as that night by the river.

✹ "you got something?" johnny asks, bringing his hand up to rest on your upper back. he doesn't want to get his hopes up, but he can't help the way his heart flutters with optimism.

✹ you nod, a smile growing on your features. "i remember that time lt. dislocated my shoulder, and price basically forced him apologise to me," you laugh, thankfully facing away from johnny as his lips turn downwards, "god, he was pissed, it was honestly kinda funny."

✹ "what, uhm…" he lightly clears his throat, hoping you don't hear the dejection in his voice, "what about me?"

✹ you meet his eyes again with an apologetic shake of your head. "i'm sorry, soap…"

✹ "yer fine, it's–" he swallows thickly, waving you off with an exaggerated smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "this is good, it's progress."

✹ since then, he's given you more space. it's clear to him that his efforts aren't helping you remember him, it actually feels like it's having the opposite effect. of course, he's glad you remember your friends, but you still don't remember him – your own boyfriend.

✹ it's wrong, and he knows it is, but he's jealous.

✹ he has to watch you carry on like usual, without him. you haven't set foot in the room you used to share together since before you were comatose. he's done his best to disguise how much it hurts, but it still annoys him how no one else seems to notice how wrong it all is. the others don't need you like he does, they don't lay awake at night going over every moment, treasuring the time you called him yours, yearning with every fibre of his being to go back.

✹ it's been a month and a half since you woke up, six weeks of being so close yet so unbearably far from you. he prays to any god that will listen to bring you back to him, allow him to hold you in his arms once more, but nothing ever changes.

✹ the thread he's been hanging on by ever since you went down on that mission gone wrong is one more bad day away from snapping.

✹ he's approached by gaz one morning, while waiting for the others to begin training, who takes it upon himself to ask johnny about how you're recovering. when gaz teases him about how he was the first person you remembered, and johnny thinks he might just strangle him.

✹ "careful, soap, i might steal 'em away," gaz laughs, patting his shoulder with a camaraderie soap scoffs at.

✹ "shut the fuck up." he snarls, his face bunched in a strikingly out of character scowl. his hands twitch at his sides, nails digging painfully into his palms.

✹ gaz blinks, his eyebrows shooting up, clearly taken aback by the hostility from his friend. "alright, i was only jokin', mate."

✹ "aye, well, i'm nae laughin'."

✹ the tension is stifling. he can tell gaz wants to say something more, but he holds his tongue – too worried about upsetting soap any further.

✹ they stand in silence with each other like that for a while, gaz watching him from the corner of his eye while he keeps his gaze firmly on the grass below him.

✹ thankfully, after not too long the uneasy atmosphere is interrupted by a shout from the direction of the building, "johnny!"

✹ his head snaps to attention to see you, grinning uncontrollably and sprinting towards him at full speed.

✹ "wha–" he's caught off guard by how you leap into his arms, hooking your arms around his neck as he stumbles backwards in surprise.

✹ before he has time to question your actions, you're smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss that has johnny's head spinning. he wastes no time in reciprocating, securing one arm around your waist and bringing the other to the back of your head, using it you press you impossibly closer to him as he groans into your mouth.

✹ you reluctantly pull away, just enough to take a shaky breath, but johnny's had stays put on the back of your head. "i'm sorry i forgot, i'm sorry…" you mumble against his lips, dragging your fingers through the unkempt hair of his mohawk.

✹ he drops his head into the juncture of you neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply the scent of you that he's gone so long without. he laughs into you, slightly delirious and just so overjoyed to have you in his arms again that feels his eyes sting with tears.

✹ "i've missed you, bonnie," he chuckles wetly, pressing his lips back to yours in another desperate kiss, "i've missed you so much,"

✹ "i'll never forget you again."

ghost

✹ he avoids you like the plague.

✹ or he tries to, at least. but truth be told, after spending so much time learning to be vulnerable around you and allowing you into his guarded heart, it's difficult to go back to being a stranger to you.

✹ that, and he doesn't actually want to.

✹ but he needs to. being around you, the love of his life, knowing that you don't remember him, it's like a knife stuck between his ribs. any time he's in the same room as you he finds himself fighting the urge to grab your hand, or press his forehead against you.

✹ he knows you don't want him anymore, the last thing you deserve is a giant of a man – who you're clearly afraid of, even if you won't say it – hanging around you like a shadow.

✹ you're still kind to him, because of course you are, checking in on him and trying to talk to him any opportunity you get. it's nice, sometimes he can even pretend everything is normal when he shares a laugh with you, but then he sees the hesitance in your eyes and he's brought back to the cold reality of the situation.

✹ the weeks drag like this, every fleeting look from you another bleeding wound on his heart.

✹ he keeps it together surprisingly well, all things considered, but the breaking point comes when you find him having a smoke one night, on a bench just outside the barracks.

✹ "simon?" your voice cuts through the silence, his eyes snapping to you as you sit down next to him. he takes another long drag from his cigarette as he watches you, uncertainty in your voice as you continue, "can you tell me about… me? and us?"

✹ no matter how much he thinks he should, he can't look away from your pleading gaze.

✹ "we… you're everything to me," simon mutters, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with the heel of his boot, "i've never felt the way i do with you before, you've helped me more than you could ever know…"

✹ his vision blurs with unshed tears. the sadness on your face starts and ache in his heart, the desire to take you into his arms and just hold you making his skin bristle.

✹ "you don't have to feel the same way, but…" he pulls the balaclava from his head, setting it on the bench in the space between you, bearing his face to you like he always does, "even if you never get your memory back, i'll always love you."

✹ the way you look at him makes it so incredibly difficult not to cry. your eyes are glassy and far away, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth with an expression that screams guilt – but it's not your fault, and he'd never blame you.

✹ you open your mouth to say something, but the words never materialise. the night stays silent, and simon expects it, but it still makes his bones ache with a heaviness that he knows he can't shake.

✹ he stands, picking up his balaclava, and walks quietly past you to the barracks door. there's no fleeting look, not this time. he disappears to his room without another word.

✹ he's not sure how much later it is when he hears a knock on his door. minutes, hours, it didn't matter. it all blends together now.

✹ when he doesn't bother to answer, whoever it is lets themselves in, shutting the door gently behind themselves. he sits up with the intention of chewing them out, but when he opens his eyes they land on your form, curled in on yourself and shuffling quickly over to him.

✹ you're here, in his room, with a face that looks like you've been crying for hours, puffy and tear-stained with bloodshot eyes.

✹ he almost thinks he's dreaming, but the warmth as you wrap your arms around him and bring his face to your chest is too real, too familiar. he brings his arms up  around your waist, releasing a shaky sigh into your skin as he squeezes you tighter against him.

✹ a few hot tears meet the top of his head as you whisper to him the words he's been waiting, longing to hear, rocking gently from side to side.

✹ "i remember, si."

✹ it feels like he can finally rest, like the state of being he's been living in for the last few months melts away with your touch and he feels safe again.

✹ with his grip around your waist, he hoists you onto his bed to lay back down with him, holding you tightly against his chest, your heart right beside his own racing one.

✹ you cradle his face again, pressing your lips to his face over and over, touching every inch of him with your love.

✹ "i'm sorry…" you whisper like a mantra, punctuating every kiss with an apology that makes his throat constrict with the raw emotion he feels. "i'm sorry,"

✹ "don't be…" he mirrors how you hold his face, tangling his legs with yours as he captures your mouth and pours every ounce of passion he has into the way he kisses you. "don't be, love."

[missadangel]

The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x OC)

All Chapters List

XXV. Sorrow

A Fronte Praecipitium, A Tergo Lupi.

A precipice in front, wolves behind.

As you arrived at the villa, you jumped off the horse, with Lucius helping you down with a firm hand. You dashed into the courtyard, your heart pounding with urgency. The moment Tullia and the others spotted you, their faces bore a mix of concern and relief. They then realized you were covered in blood, but their concern melted away when they noticed you were unharmed, not physically at least. Decima approached you, cradling Marcius closely, while Norell held your little girl protectively against her chest.

“We must leave at once, my lady,” Felix urged, his voice urgent. “They will be here soon.”

The carriage was already prepared.

“My lady, your clothes...” Tullia began, her eyes scanning your disheveled appearance. “Let me help you change—”

“I'm afraid there's no time,” Lucius interrupted.

“Don't worry, I'll be fine; we'll be fine,” you promised, offering them a reassuring smile despite your own burgeoning fear, noticing the unshed tears glistening in their eyes.

“I wish you could have come with me,” you confessed, a lump forming in your throat.

“We'd only slow you down,” Tullia replied, her voice steady despite the sorrow etched on her features.

“It is only important that you are safe, my lady,” Norell added, her gaze steady and resolute. “We will follow after you reach safety.”

Tullia took your hand in hers, warmth and worry swirling in her grip. “Gods help you; my prayers are with you, Domina,” she said.

You hugged her tightly, tears streamed down your face.

With a heavy heart, you took one last look at their worried faces before climbing into the carriage beside Decima, leaving the safety of your home behind for the uncertain and perilous journey that lay ahead.

During the travel to escort you and your children to a safe location, Felix and Cato were stationed directly behind the carriage, flanked on either side by two additional soldiers. Lucius positioned himself at the back with one soldier accompanying him.

The enormous gate of the yard creaked open, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around your little girl, pulling her tightly against you as the carriage surged forward down the dusty road. The air was thick with the smell of earth and the sounds of hooves thundering against the ground. Marcius, perched joyfully on Decima's lap, radiated innocence and happiness, his joy a stark contrast to the tension surrounding you. His brown eyes sparkled, mirroring the deep warmth of his father's gaze. In that moment, you knew you could face the worst fate imaginable—a fate that could even take your own life—but losing him was inconceivable. You would fight tooth and nail to ensure he and your little girl would survive.

Suddenly, the distant sound of neighing horses pierced the air, sending a shiver down your spine. You exchanged anxious glances with Decima, the worry evident in your furrowed brows.

“Felix! We’re being followed!” Cato's voice sliced through the tension, urgency lacing his words.

“Shit!” Felix’s roared.

Lucius turned swiftly in his saddle, his eyes narrowing as he spotted two imposing horsemen advancing. “You go ahead; I’ll hold them off!” he shouted.

“You go with him!” Felix snapped at the other soldier.

“Yes, sir!” the soldier replied, drawing his sword with a practiced motion, the blade glinting.

Lucius pivoted his horse, ready to confront the impending threat.

Panic surged within you as you peered out the carriage window, your heart racing at the sight of him riding away to face danger alone.

“Lucius!” you cried out, desperation filling your voice.

But your fear deepened as you realized it wasn’t just two horsemen—more were galloping toward you, a dark wave of impending doom closing in.

“Ride faster! Do not stop, no matter what!” Felix commanded the coachman, sword drawn and ready. The soldiers rallied behind him, drawing their weapons and positioning themselves defensively to shield the carriage as more horsemen closed in from all sides. Chaos erupted into a full-fledged battle.

"Cut off the carriage!" a voice pierced through the chaos. A surge of soldiers emerged, and two of them forced the coachman to stop. Overwhelmed with terror, you clutched your little girl tightly as the carriage came to a sudden and forceful halt. In the midst of the turmoil, you felt a sharp pain as your head struck the rough edge of the carriage. The sounds of battle mingled with your daughter’s frightened cries, amplifying the chaos that surrounded you.

“Aurelia! Are you alright?” Decima cried, her fingers brushing the spot where you had struck your head, noticing a trickle of blood oozing down your temple.

“Yes, I believe so. But what about you?”

"Thank Gods, we're alright." She said. You both checked Marcius to see if he's hurt.

Marcius whimpered, crying as tears glistened in his eyes. You leaned down and gently pressed a soothing kiss atop his head.

“What are we going to do now?” Decima murmured.

“I do not know,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, weighed down by uncertainty.

Sitting anxiously in the carriage, you peeked outside through the small window. The cacophony of clashing swords and anguished shouts reached your ears. The oppressive confinement began to suffocate you, and, with a sense of deliberate resolve, you eased the carriage door open. You were feeling trapped, so you sought an opportunity to escape.

The scene outside was a whirlwind of despair. Felix, Cato, and other soldiers fought bravely against others, their swords glinting fiercely and the sound of metal echoing through the woods. Suddenly, a soldier charging to aid you was struck down, an arrow piercing his throat with deadly precision. He crumpled to the ground, the life draining from his eyes, and a cry of horror escaped your lips.

"You fools! Do not harm the princess!"

The words echoed through the chaos like a piercing bell, and their owner was unmistakably Varus. A cold shiver ran down your spine as you saw him stride towards you, determination etched into his features.

Was he here for Marcius?

If he had been scheming alongside Elagabalus all this time, his intentions were as perilous as a hungry wolf’s gaze. Your thoughts raced, and in that frantic moment, instinct kicked in. You lunged for the sword lying abandoned on the ground, the cold steel belonging to a soldier felled by an unseen arrow. It was heavier than you anticipated, a weight that felt foreign in your hands. Memories of Marcus's training flickered in your mind, the lessons with the wooden sword that now seemed a distant memory. You fought against the nervous tremor in your hands and clutched the weapon tighter, forcing yourself to focus.

“It’s dangerous out there; stay inside!” you called to Decima, urgency lacing your voice. Her wide eyes mirrored the turmoil around you, but there was no escape for you or the children. The air was thick with the tension of too many soldiers, their presence forming a formidable wall of steel and intent, sealing off any chance of escape.

Felix jumped in front of Varus, who was approaching you, and made a move to stab him with his sword but failed. Another soldier advanced toward you, and you lifted your sword. It felt heavy in your hands. You tried to lunge but, shaking, fell to your knees. Quickly picking yourself up, you found Varus grabbing you by the arm and lifting you off the ground. “You will hurt yourself with that sword, my lady,” he grinned as he easily took the weapon from you and threw it away.

You glanced at the other soldier who opened the carriage door and forcibly pulled Marcius away from Decima. “No!” you shouted with all your might. You lunged toward him, but Varus's strong arm held you back. “Get your hands off me!”

When Lucius heard your cries, he swung his sword at his opponent before charging at him and plunging his pugio into his back without the other soldier realizing. With a groan of agony, the soldier released Marcius, but Lucius caught him before he could fall to the ground.

“Marcius!” you cried out as you lunged toward him, but once again, your effort fell short. Panicking, you shouted at Varus, “Let go!” as you twisted and turned, struggling against his grip.

Lucius quickly handed Marcius back to Decima and shouted, “Get back in the carriage now!”

He was on his way to save you when a number of arrows suddenly fell onto them; they purposefully pointed them at them rather than at you, which infuriated you. Before she could get to the carriage, Decima was struck, and she and Marcius tumbled to the ground. The shaft of the arrow had become trapped in Marcius' tiny body, precisely in his chest, after piercing Decima's arm around him. In order to avoid crushing him with her own weight, Decima placed her palm on the ground and used her arm for support. You forgot to breathe as Marcius lay there with his eyes closed. "MARCIUS!" you screamed at the top of your lungs. Your entire body shook with pain, shock, and wrath.

Your screams caused Felix Cato Lucius and the others to pause for a moment as they fought their opponents, but only to continue fighting back with more fury and determination.

Varus felt a sense of satisfaction as he saw Marcius lying motionless on the ground. “Kill every last one of them!” he shouted while pulling you closer, away from your family.

You struggled with all your strength, pulling the pugio from its scabbard at Varus' waist and swinging it at his throat with a quick thrust. But he was quicker than you; he caught your hand instantly. However, you could make a cut, just enough for the blood to flow. Groaning, Varus became so furious that he struck you with such force that, before you realized it, you suddenly collapsed onto the dusty ground, and darkness surrounded you like a thick fog, swallowing every trace of light and consciousness.

About thirty-six hours later, Marcus and Octavius finally reached Rome. The streets glistened with rain, reflecting the fading light of the sun as it dipped below the horizon, ceding the sky to the watchful moon. It felt as if the heavens themselves were weeping for the tragedy that had befallen the city below. Peering out from a lofty hill, Marcus inhaled deeply, a sense of homecoming washing over him; yet, he remained blissfully unaware that he had arrived too late.

As they urged their weary horses toward the grand city, an ominous silence enveloped them. Despite their frantic ride, fatigue weighed heavily on their bodies after a relentless day and a half of travel. As they passed under the arch dedicated to Romulus and Remus, a shiver of unease ran through Marcus. The soldiers usually stationed near the gates - silent sentinels of the city - were conspicuously absent.

The streets stretched before them like empty veins, leading ominously toward the Colosseum and the Roman Forum, devoid of the usual life and laughter. It felt as though the city itself had been abandoned, its heart stilled. Dim shadows danced behind the darkened windows of homes and buildings, their inhabitants seemingly swallowed by despair.

The rain continued to fall, each drop echoing softly as the horses’ hooves clattered against the slick stone streets. As they approached a winding path leading to Palatine Hill, Marcus and Octavius exchanged concerned glances, disturbed by the hushed whispers that brushed against their ears like an unsettling breeze. Further along, a massive crowd came into view, their murmurs swelling into a crescendo of grief.

They saw the crowd gathered around Palatine Hill, torches flickering like haunted fireflies in the dusky gloom. A deep sorrow hung in the air, palpable and heavy. Women wept openly, their cries piercing the night, while men and children stood silently, their faces etched with heartache and confusion. The sense of foreboding thickened as Marcus and Octavius realized they had ridden into a storm of misery that had engulfed their beloved city.

Marcus frowned, suspecting more or less what it meant. But soldiers were everywhere, and it was dangerous for him to approach Palatine Hill before he knew for sure what had happened. No one knew he was alive yet, and it was best to keep it that way for a while. You were the only one on his mind, and he needed to make his way to the villa because he was worried about his family. As tired as they were, they had to press on; his concern for his family was overwhelming.

When they soon arrived at the villa, he jumped off his horse. The animal was so exhausted that it did not even move after he dismounted. Marcus's tired legs trembled as they approached the courtyard. There was no sign of life in the villa—no sounds, no lights, nothing. The courtyard, where Marcius had taken his first steps and where the slaves once hurried to do their work, was now eerily quiet.

He glanced at the lectus and the table in the corner and imagined you sitting there when he returned from his evening duties. You would have gotten up immediately to greet him, rushing to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. He then sighed, and he climbed the stairs to your room. The wind blew through the window, causing the tulle to dance around your once cozy, now abandoned bed. As he looked at the bed, all his memories flashed before his eyes, and his heart ached with the feeling of abandonment.

It was too late…

He spotted a delicate piece of his little girl’s swaddling clothes lying on the bed. He picked it up and brought it to his nose, inhaling the sweet, soothing scent that lingered like a cherished memory. Suddenly, his gaze darted toward the wooden closet across the room. He leaped to his feet, urgency propelling him forward. As he neared the closet, a sinking realization washed over him—the shelves had been emptied. Only yours and children's clothes that were missing; Marcus's own clothes remained undisturbed in their place. A flicker of hope ignited within him, a glimmer of what he had suspected.

With quickened steps, he left the room and descended the stairs, where Octavius was just returning from the stables, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Acacius, all the horses and the carriage have been taken,” he said.

“So have the clothes,” Marcus replied.

“Do you think they could be where we discussed earlier?” Octavius asked.

“Let’s get moving,” Marcus urged. But at that moment, a rustling noise from the courtyard near the kitchen caught their attention, snapping them into alertness. Marcus instinctively drew his sword, the blade glinting in the dim light, and signaled for Octavius to follow him.

With caution, Octavius advanced toward the sound, his footsteps calculated, while Marcus broke away to flank from the other side, every muscle tensed and ready.

As the door connecting the kitchen to the back garden creaked shut, Octavius turned back toward the stables, his instincts sharp. Marcus surged into the courtyard, adrenaline coursing through him as he began to close in on the fleeing figure, who seemed to dart away like a shadow.

The cloaked man froze, panic flashing across his face as Marcus intercepted him with skillful precision. With a swift motion, he lifted the hood with the tip of his sword, revealing the identity hidden beneath. The mix of surprise and joy that washed over Marcus was unmistakable.

“Cato?” he exclaimed, disbelief transforming into relief in an instant.

Cato, who had been tightly squeezing his eyes shut, suddenly heard his general’s voice. He opened his eyes and gasped, his gaze widening in surprise. “General!”

Octavius stepped toward them, and as the realization hit him that it was indeed Cato, he swiftly sheathed his sword, the metal sliding with a reassuring click. Cato looked at him, equally puzzled. “Octavius, sir!” He laughed. “You're alive too! You both alive!” He then lunged towards Marcus and hugged him. Marcus smiled as he patted him on the back. “We're alive, Cato, and we're back.”

“Thank the gods!”

“Cato, what were you doing here? Where is everyone?” Octavius asked.

“I—I came here to get some herbs, then I heard horses and hid. I thought it was the soldiers.”

“Did you say herbs?”

Cato lowered his head, his expression shifting to one of deep sorrow as if the weight of his worries hung heavily upon him.

“What happened, Cato? Aurelia, my children... Are they all right?” Marcus's voice trembled with anxiety as he searched Cato’s eyes for answers.

Cato glanced towards the road. “I'll tell you everything, but... Come with me now; it's not safe here anymore, but everyone is all right, hiding in the place we agreed on before.”

“Let’s head there, Octavius,” Marcus urged, his voice steady yet tinged with urgency. He turned to Cato. "But have you come all this way on foot? What of the horse?"

“I’ve hidden it out of sight, sir,” Cato replied, a hint of anxiety in his tone. “Tied it in the bushes.”

“Then come with me,” Marcus instructed, leaping onto his horse with practiced ease before reaching out to help Cato mount. Together, they rode into the dappled shade of the forest, the air rich with the scent of damp earth and the rustle of leaves. As they approached the location Cato had mentioned, Marcus felt a growing sense of unease; this was not the place they had discussed. Instead, they had arrived at an old villa nestled among the trees, its weathered stone walls barely visible through the ivy that clung to them like a shroud. The villa, belonging to his cousin Agrippa, loomed quietly by the river—a ghost of its former grandeur, now vacant since Agrippa was away commanding the northern legions.

This villa served as a contingency plan - a refuge for the most dire of circumstances, especially if Geta were to be deposed and Marcus did not return. Marcus' real plan, however, was to go elsewhere, as it was the safest option away from Rome.

"Why have you brought us here?" Marcus asked, dismounting and surveying their surroundings. "Or?"

“Sir, the soldiers and General Varus intercepted the carriage...” Cato hesitated, his voice faltering. “We had no other choice…”

As soon as Cato stepped into the courtyard, Felix and Lucius switched into action and drew their swords. They exchanged glances and signaled to each other. The struggle for survival and the mission to protect the general's family had quickly forged a bond between them. These two men, once soldiers on opposing fronts, were now united against a common enemy.

When they saw Cato, both breathed a sigh of relief.

“Cato, what took you so long—”

Their words froze in their throats as they noticed two men following him. Felix's eyes widened and his jaw dropped when he recognized Marcus and Octavian. Lucius stared at them in astonishment.

“G-General...” Felix managed to stammer, a mix of disbelief and joy flooding his chest. “General!” he exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Octavius!” he called out, his voice cracking with exuberance.

Two more soldiers approached, equally surprised to see Marcus.

“General!” one of them called out.

“It's really him!” another exclaimed.

One of those soldiers was Aris, who approached Felix with his mouth agape. “Is it really him?” he asked.

“Unless the god Morpheus has put us in a dream...” Felix muttered.

Cato chuckled at this. Lucius rolled his eyes, while Octavius and Marcus exchanged glances.

“Should we poke him?” Aris asked, still in disbelief. Felix poked Aris's shoulder hard.

"Ah! Not me, you fool!" Aris snapped, pointing at Marcus.

When Felix reached out to poke Marcus in the shoulder, Marcus caught his hand and playfully slapped him in the face. "What kind of bad manners is that?" he asked with mock annoyance.

"Look at these dummies, Acacius," Octavius chuckled, Marcus grinning.

Felix and Aris exchanged embarrassed laughter, filled with relief and joy. “I’d recognize that commanding voice anywhere! It’s really them!”

“They're not dead! They're alive!” the group erupted in cheers, their voices echoing together.

Suddenly, a wave of joy swept through them. Felix and Aris hugged Marcus tightly as Lucius sheathed his sword. Marcus, a little shaken by their enthusiastic embrace and moaning a little, still, couldn’t help but laugh as well. Octavius, aware of the wounds on Marcus’s chest and hand, felt a surge of concern. "Stop it, you fools; you’ll make our General regret being alive!" he chastised.

Felix wiped away his tears as he stepped back to look at his face once more. "General, sir, you are alive! You have returned."

Marcus gently touched his shoulder. "Indeed, Felix. I am alive, brother."

"Thank the gods," Aris said, also wiping away his tears.

They touched each other's shoulders and exchanged joyful glances. Lucius stood a little behind, watching the reunion unfold with a smile. After a breath, Marcus turned his gaze toward him and nodded.

"Lucius."

"Acacius," he greeted in return.

Marcus's heart raced as the sound of a baby’s cry pierced the air. He instinctively glanced over Lucius's shoulder and his breath caught at the sight of Tullia and Norell approaching, their faces painted with shock.

“Master!” Tullia exclaimed, her arms wide open and walked towards him. her hands gently resting on his shoulders. “Thank Jupiter! Thank all the gods, you're alive, you've returned!”

“I have, Tullia,” Marcus replied, a broad smile spreading across his face that lit up his weary eyes. He turned to Norell, who cradled her little girl with great tenderness. With a gentle touch, he took the baby into his arms. Norell’s joy was silent, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she offered him a smile that spoke volumes.

As Marcus breathed in the sweet, familiar scent of his child, he bent down to kiss the top of her head, a wave of longing washing over him. He missed her more than words could express.

Turning to Tullia, he asked, “Where are Marcius and Aurelia?”

Tullia’s brow furrowed as she bowed her head, tears beginning to cascade down her cheeks. Marcus quickly returned the baby to Norell’s arms as he saw Lucius and Cato rush into a room.

Hoping to find his answer there, Marcus followed them into a small, dimly lit room, his heart sinking at the sight before him. Marcius lay on a mattress, his small body still and wrapped in bandages. Lucius hurriedly sifted through the herbs and vials Cato had brought, sniffing them with urgency, trying to decipher their purpose, while Marcus approached the bed with a growing sense of dread.

“What happened to him?” he whispered, his voice cracking.

A heavy silence enveloped the room as everyone exchanged looks, each one reflecting their sorrow and concern, but no one found the courage to speak an answer.

In the corner, Decima and Octavius held each other tightly. But Octavius's brow furrowed deeply when he noticed the bandage wrapped around Decima’s upper arm.

“What happened to your arm?” he asked.

Decima was unable to respond; her only answer was a tight embrace, tears flowing freely as she buried her face in his shoulder.

"As we headed towards the location we had discussed, we were suddenly caught off guard by an ambush, sir," Felix said, his voice trembling. "Varus and his men pursued us, and they outnumbered us. Please forgive me." He bowed his head in shame, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his failure.

Marcus gazed at his son, the rising tide of tears shimmering in his eyes like fragile glass.

"An arrow struck him in the upper chest," Lucius said, his hands steady as he poured a healing mixture onto a cloth, the scent of herbs filling the room.

Marcus was frozen in disbelief. He sank to his knees, his lips pressing against his little boy's forehead, warm tears streaming down his cheeks as he gently stroked the boy's hair. "Did you say an arrow?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, the arrow struck Decima’s arm before hitting Marcius. If her arm hadn’t slowed its deadly speed…" Lucius's voice trailed off, and a heavy silence enveloped the room, each person acutely aware of the unspoken truth hanging in the air.

Marcus turned to Decima, taking in her pale face, then back to his son. Lucius worked meticulously, applying a herbal ointment to the wound, the boy's small form trembling slightly with each touch. "Fortunately, the arrowhead didn’t penetrate deeply; he’s still alive," Lucius continued. "It's a miracle for such a small child to survive such an injury - what I'm witnessing is beyond anything I've ever seen in my life. He has beaten death, just like his father, I believe." He gave Marcus a reassuring smile.

Wiping away his tears, Marcus managed a weak smile in return. "Please, do your utmost. Save my son."

"I’m doing everything I can; don’t worry."

"I'm grateful to you, Lucius."

Then Marcus realized that something was missing. “Aurelia must be devastated. Where is she?” he asked.

Everyone lowered their heads. It was a difficult question to answer, and no one had the courage to say that to Marcus.

However, Marcus's patience had run out. He looked at Felix sharply as he approached him. “Forgive me, sir,” he said again, his voice trembling. “I could not protect her.” He bowed his head, unable to meet Marcus's gaze.

“Forgive me, sir,” he said again, his voice trembling. “I could not protect her.” He bowed his head, unable to meet his gaze.

“What do you mean by that? Did she...” Marcus whispered, feeling his heart shatter into pieces. When he looked around, everyone else averted their eyes.

“They took her, sir,” Cato explained. “They hunted us down and ambushed us. They were going to kill us all, but luckily Aris and the others arrived just in time.”

“Varus had already left with Lady Aurelia when Aris showed up. They probably think we've either died or escaped,” he continued.

“We had to come here and hide in case they came looking for us. Besides, Marcius...” Cato hesitated, realizing Marcus’s growing anger.

“Varus, you filthy dog!” Marcus growled, clenching his fists.

“We couldn’t protect Emperor Geta either,” Aris added. “I couldn’t go to help Darius; there were too many of them. Empress Nerissa, Varus, and Elagabalus must have planned this together, but we don’t know much yet.”

"We must save the Lady Aurelia," Octavius said, looking directly at Marcus. "They may also kill her."

Lucius stood up and faced Marcus. “I don’t think they intend to kill her. If that were their aim, they would have done it during the ambush. They were talking about arresting her.”

Marcus turned his back to them, trembling with rage, making a fist to pound it against the stone wall as the weight of the situation consumed him. Ignoring the blood oozing from his hand.

“I shall rip his lungs out.” He made a promise to himself, gritting his teeth in anger.

You jolted awake, a wave of anguish crashing over you, weaving through both body and soul. The familiar embrace of pain gripped you once again, yet this time felt like a tempest brewing beneath your chin, a painful reminder of yesterday's chaos and the hard knock of a masculine hand against your face. But that was nothing compared to the ache simmering deep within your heart, a gaping wound that throbbed with every beat. Memories surfaced, sharp and intense, and your throat constricted as you struggled to breathe. The image of the arrow striking Marcius' body wouldn't go away, haunting you relentlessly. Suddenly, you gasped for breath as the pain intensified. This pain felt very different from what you felt for Geta and Marcus. You were surprised that you could endure so much suffering, and you truly wondered how you were still alive. A twinge of guilt washed over you when you realized you were angry with the gods for the unbearable tragedies that had befallen you. It was all simply too much—excruciating and overwhelming. Driven by a survival instinct, you felt compelled to find a way to endure this pain, ease it. These feelings ultimately led you to an emotion as powerful as the pain itself: a desire for vengeance.

You slowly opened your eyes. The first thing you noticed was a small window with iron bars set high in a stone wall. Since you were lying against the wall, the sunlight that filtered in didn't reach you. As you began to hear the sounds around you—the clanging of metal as soldiers marched and muttered—you turned your head. You spotted two guards standing with their backs turned behind the iron bars. The cell was larger than the one Macrinus had imprisoned you in before; it contained a mattress, a table, and even food on the table. This must be one of the special cells for an imperial member. That meant you had been brought to Palatine Hill. You pushed back the disheveled hair from your face, which smelled of blood and sweat, and sat up.  Your clothes were in a terrible state, shabby, worn, just like your heart. Geta's blood, still present on you, had a dark red tinge, dried on your light blue stola. Your sobs and cries returned, your heart breaking repeatedly as you thought of Marcus, Geta, and your son Marcius, leaving you feeling as though you were on the verge of losing your grip.

Suddenly, the echo of footsteps broke the silence, sending a rush of anger through your veins as you heard his voice.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Varus said, a sinister grin stretching across his face. He loomed in front of the cold iron bars, his gaze piercing through, studying you with an unsettling intensity.

You clenched the fabric of your dress tightly, the soft texture pressing against your skin, attempting to offer solace. Yet, your body vibrated with an unmistakable fury. Every muscle pulsed with a powerful combination of fear and rage, igniting an intense fire within you that demanded to be unleashed.

"You filthy bastard!" you shouted, lunging at him.

He remained completely still because iron bars stood between him and you, acting as friends to him and enemies to you.

"I'll kill you!" you yelled, gripping the bars. Your pain outweighed your anger. "What did you want from him, a little child? How could you?" Your sobs and cries grew louder.

"Behave yourself, Lady Aurelia," Varus growled threateningly.

"If I don't, what will you do? Will you also murder me? What difference would it make if you killed me as well? You've already killed my son."

"If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it the moment you attempted to kill me, my lady, but if you ever do anything stupid like that again, I'll make sure you meet your son in Elysium."

"Filthy dog!" You shouted. "I swear your death will be by my hand, I swear it!"

Varus angrily struck the iron bars with his hand. "Enough! Stop it!"

"What did you want from him? Why did you—?” You murmured, your knees gave way, and you collapsed, your sobs echoing in the stone cell. It was a plea that would make anyone with a conscience shudder, but Varus was not a man of conscience.

"If you promise to behave, I will let you out of the cell. His Majesty wants to see you," he said, looking at you coldly.

Out of the cell... Perhaps you could have the chance to kill him.

"My Lady, I don't have all day to wait for your answer." He said mockingly.

What an arsehole.

You focused your attention on the gleaming dagger, the pugio, resting at the waist of one of the guards. A surge of determination washed over you as you began to formulate your plan. With a slow nod, you met Varus’s gaze, and his grin widened. “Good. Open the cell,” he commanded.

As the guard unlocked the cell door, you rose to your feet, your heart racing. Your eyes were locked on the pugio, its hilt inviting and within reach. As you stepped out of the cell, a rush of adrenaline coursed through you. You darted past the guard, swiftly lunging for the handle of the dagger at his side, fingers brushing against the cool metal. In an exhilarating instant, you managed to unhook it. But before you could pivot towards Varus, his grip clamped down on your arm, yanking you back.

With a swift motion, he disarmed you, taking the pugio and slamming you against the stone wall. The impact jolted through your body like a thunderclap, a sharp groan escaping your lips as pain radiated from your back, merging humiliation with fury.

"Did your husband teach you to do this, my lady?" You swallowed as he ran the sharp surface of the pugio against your neck. "But he’s gone now, how sad."

Ignoring his amusement, you narrowed your eyes at him. "I may have failed now, but you can be sure that one day I will stick a knife down your stinking throat."

Laughing wickedly, he leaned in, his breath grazing your earlobe, the kind that makes you feel sick to your stomach. "If you weren't such a beautiful and distinguished woman, I would have killed you already."

He returned the pugio to the guard and grabbed your arm, pulling it roughly as he walked. "Enough of this nonsense. “Move.”

As Varus led you from the cell into the Domus Severiana, you surveyed your surroundings, feeling a deep sense of despair. Memories of Geta and Marcus flooded your mind, while the rich, intricate details of the architecture seemed to taunt you. Those cherished images were overshadowed by visions of others—individuals who had proved themselves unworthy of the titles they held. The warmth of this place, which once felt like home, now felt cold and invasive; its calm atmosphere was dimmed by the weight of your sorrow.

When the doors of the Great Hall opened, you stepped inside to face one of the most upsetting sights imaginable. In the same hall where Geta had once greeted you with a warm smile, Elagabalus now occupied Geta's imperial throne, smiling ominously at you. You couldn't decide whether this vision was painful or simply annoying, but it was evident that you were hurt once again. Elagabalus was slightly younger than Geta and a bit taller than Caracalla, but he was clearly more twisted. He pursed his lips as he scrutinized you from head to toe, yet made no effort to rise. Even Caracalla would have stood upon seeing you, but Elagabalus remained smug and unyielding.

"Oh, our beautiful Princess Aurelia!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together, echoing through the hall. "Even in your wretched state, you radiate a certain brilliance; it’s simply extraordinary." His words felt like daggers, cutting deeper as he reveled in your predicament.

Your body moved involuntarily toward him, the urge to lunge and grab him by the throat overwhelming you. However, Varus tightened his grip, indifferent to the pain it caused you. Anyways, no matter what he did, you knew he couldn't hurt you anymore, not after what he did.

"I must say that I am truly sorry for all of this, my dear," he continued. "If only your late husband, Acacius, had responded differently to the message I sent him and followed my request, perhaps we wouldn’t be in this situation. Just look at you; that’s all—"

"Don't you dare speak his name!" you snarled, fierce anger boiling within you as your voice broke through the tension.

"Hmm, I understand that emotions are running high, and you're feeling hurt and frustrated," he replied with an air of condescension, "But I must insist that you do not interrupt me again.”

You gave him a stern look. "Or what? What are you going to do? Torture me? Kill me? Then do it."

He shook his head repeatedly. "No, no, no. You are not an ordinary woman. The citizens of Rome are already experiencing..." he thought of the right words. "...considerable unrest," pursed his lips. "I do not wish to further provoke their discontent. They hold you in high regard. Therefore, I will determine your fate after the funeral.”

"Funeral," you whispered.

“I am not so devoid of compassion as to deny my cousin a proper funeral,” he responded smugly. “That is the purpose of my summons. If you wish to pay your respects, he is located in the other hall; the guards will take you there. Tomorrow, in a grand ceremony, the people of Rome will bid him farewell, and I will officially declare myself emperor.” His tone conveyed a sense of excitement.

“You monster! Traitor! It’s all your fault!” You shouted as you lunged at him. A familiar face stopped you this time. You were so distraught that you didn’t realize Darius was there until he grasped your arm.

“Darius, let me go! I'll kill him!”

Elagabalus tilted his head to the side, his expression a blend of astonishment and amusement. “Well, what General Varus said about you was true, I see,” he remarked, his voice dripping with playful curiosity.

Varus smirked. "I can tell she's got a fighting spirit, your highness."

Elagabalus erupted into laughter, a sound that rang with a mocking cadence, inciting a flame of anger within you.

“My lady, please calm yourself,” Darius urged, his voice gentle yet firm.

You shoved his hands away defensively, the frustration boiling over. “Are you on his side too? My brother Geta cared for you!”

“I’m only doing my duty, my lady,” he replied. “Serving the emperor is my only obligation.” As he spoke, a suggestive glint flickered in his eyes, leaving you uncertain of his intentions.

"I liked you, Commander Darius. You deserve your title," Elagabalus said with a grin. Darius bowed respectfully in response.

As you observed him, you weren't completely sure, but it seemed like Darius was putting on an act. Nevertheless, you felt anger towards him for not being able to protect Geta.

Suddenly, the heavy door swung open, and the guards stormed in, dragging Nerissa by the arm. She struggled against their grip, defiance etched across her face, just as you had.

“Oh, there’s Empress Nerissa. Come closer, dear,” he gestured to her, a wicked glint in his eyes. It was difficult to discern his thoughts.

“Elagabalus! You bastard! You promised I would return to Athens, my home!” she shouted, her voice filled with indignation.

“Oh, about that... Well, circumstances have forced me to change my mind,” he replied, standing up and adjusting his ornate toga. It was hard to look at him in that attire; he reminded you of Geta. “When the Athenians decided to side with Geta and betray me, I had to revise my plans. I hope you understand. After all, it was a matter of mutual interest,” he said with a sneer.

“What about my son? Why did you take him from me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Did you really think I would let you flee with a Roman prince, the heir to the throne? Are you truly that foolish?”

Nerissa's eyes reflected obvious disappointment. He had a point. Had she truly betrayed Geta for a foolish plan? It was frustrating that she trusted Elagabalus more easily than Geta. A surge of anger coursed through you again, as if you could reach out and strangle Nerissa with your bare hands, but worry for your nephew, Publius, held you back.

“If a hair on his head has been harmed, I will ruin you!” You yelled at him.“

"I am certain of that, my lady." He smirked. "Besides, I don't intend to hurt him," he then stood up, continued. "The death of his father and another prince have already angered the people enough; I don't want to give them another reason to revolt. I need the people of Rome to love me and respect me."

“They will never love you! You murdered their emperor and imprisoned his son, his heir! They will hate you!” Nerissa shouted angrily.

“I murdered him?" He said raising his eyebrows, "I didn't do anything, remember? It was you,” he grinned cruelly. "They have always resented you for being Greek, and this incident will only amplify their desire to place blame. They’ve been waiting for a reason, and you’ve just handed it to them.”

“I'll kill you!” She shrieked, jumping forward to him. One of the guards grabbed her by the arm.

“Lock her up, she is to be executed with the other Greeks.”

“No!”

You wanted to smile cruelly at Nerissa's shouts of protest, but you couldn’t. The thought of Publius being completely orphaned overshadowed everything else. Nerissa's desire for revenge led to a huge mistake, which she likely regrets; ultimately, she destroyed her life, her son’s life, and yours.

Elagabalus approached you, you had seen the pure evil in his eyes before, in Caracalla's eyes.

"As for you..."

"Do you intend to execute me as well?"

He chuckled, a mix of hysteria and amusement. "Certainly not. Why would I take such a drastic step? I told you, the people hold you in high regard, much like their disdain for Nerissa. I see a valuable opportunity here and would prefer to have you on my side."

Though seething with anger, you couldn't help but laugh in disbelief. “That will never happen.”

He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows in implication. “What about your nephew Publius? You wouldn’t want to lose him too, would you?”

Understanding his implication, you felt too trapped to respond, and the pain returned as tears streamed down your face. He continued.

“Actually, I was planning to get rid of him along with his mother, but when Varus made a mistake and got your son killed, I realized that I have no other choice left. It was the only thing that could persuade you to cooperate. You are a smart woman; I am certain that you understand exactly what I mean."

Your silence gave him confidence; he sensed your defeat, and a satisfied smile spread across his face as he approached you.

"What kind of monster are you to take my son's life, call it a mistake, and threaten me with my nephew?" You muttered, lacking the strength to bark or fight any longer.

“Alright, enough talk,” he said, looking at the guards. “Take her. Have her bathed and changed. Assign two men to guard her. We’ll speak again after the funeral, princess. Remember, your nephew’s life is in your hands, so I suggest you behave yourself.”

Ignoring his disturbing smile, you glanced at Darius as Varus pulled you out of the hall. He looked sad when he met your eyes, but you were too angry with him to care.

Geta's lifeless body lay on a marble slab in the center of the great hall, covered with a white cloth embroidered with gold. It was difficult to look at him; his skin was so pale, and his lips so blue, that you had to grip the edge of the marble slab for support. The lamentations of the vestal priestesses rose around you as you placed coins to pay Charon on Geta's eyelids. Your fingers trembled as you touched his golden hair. Tears streamed down your face, wetting his colorless, lifeless skin as you leaned down to kiss his forehead. You tried to ignore the members of the Senate gathered around you, along with their wives and the murmurs of the Patricians. You could not bear to hear any words of consolation; you were too tired to endure it any longer.

You felt exhausted to attend the solemn funeral ceremony, yet Elagabalus dragged you with him. Varus’ men shadowed you like ominous specters, their presence a constant reminder of your captivity. It was infuriating; you felt as though you were a ghost, wandering through a fog of despair, a living dead among the mourning throng.

Desperation clawed at your chest as your eyes scanned the sea of unfamiliar faces, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone familiar—perhaps Lucius, Cato, or Felix. You yearned for a sign, a whisper of news that Marcius was alive, but all you found were stranger faces. It felt like everyone had turned their backs on you, leaving you in this bleak nightmare of solitude.

As you stood before the blazing pyre, the flames licking greedily at Geta's lifeless form, sorrow overwhelmed you. The crackling fire echoed the sound of your heart breaking. Tears streamed down your face, hot and relentless, as Geta’s final words reverberated in your mind: “In his absence, you will be under my protection.”

You didn't know when this nightmare would end, you just wanted to beg the gods to take your life, but not without revenge. You didn't know when or how, but you would take your revenge, it was the only thing that kept you strong. Varus and Elagabalus may have seen it as surrender, but they were unaware that you were just waiting for the right moment.

Far away in the crowd, hidden from view, Marcus was present. Cloaked in black, he lurked in the shadows, but he was there. His heart surged with life once he caught sight of you in the distance. He yearned to push through the masses and reach you, ready to slaıghter anyone who dare to stand in his way. However, he knew he couldn't do that—not yet. All he could do was watch you helplessly from afar. Patience had never been so difficult for him, and of all the moments of helplessness he had endured, this was the most excruciating.

“Sir, what do we do?” Octavius asked.

“I am the only one among us whose face less recognizable to them. I will approach and retrieve him,” Lucius said.

Marcus touched his shoulder. “Be careful.”

As Lucius moved carefully through the crowd, he, like Marcus, couldn’t help but glance in your direction, worried about you. But he had to find Darius. When you briefly looked over, you recognized Lucius’s face, and your heart began to race. You kept your excitement in check, not wanting Varus to become suspicious; he had seen him before.

Lucius... If he was alive, did that mean the others were too? You were desperate to find out, but all you could do was stand there, and you hated it.

Darius quickly identified Lucius and grasped the meaning behind his signal. He discreetly turned to assess the positions of Varus and Elagabalus, taking the opportunity to position one of his most trusted men in his place. He then began to follow Lucius at a safe distance, relieved to see that Varus was momentarily preoccupied.

Anxiety coiled in your stomach as you imagined the exchange between Darius and Lucius. Would he intend to send you a message? "Marcius, please let him be alive," you prayed to the gods, your heart swelling with a glimmer of hope. It felt almost reassuring to see Lucius again, especially when you felt so alone. At least Lucius was alive; at least you hadn't lost him yet.

While you were waiting for Darius to return, Elagabalus was eager to leave and signaled to the guards, who parted to help him through. The crowd was in a dismal mood—filled with mourning, anger, and sadness—and they definitely weren't ready to accept Elagabalus as emperor. However, you could tell they had a great respect for you. You were certain that he would use that respect to manipulate you into following him from now on, threatening you with Publius if you refused. But you didn't want to leave; you just wanted to see Lucius one more time and find out what he had told Darius. Unfortunately, you now found yourself as Elagabalus' puppet; he wanted you to escort him to Palatine Hill, and you had no choice but to obey.

The next day, as you sat helplessly in your cell, anxiously awaiting news of Lucius and your children, you heard footsteps approaching. You stood up immediately, hoping it could be Darius. One of the guards ordered others  to open the cell door and looked at you with a firm expression.

"My lady, come with me," he said, gently gesturing for you to follow.

You complied and walked in the direction he indicated. Together, you stepped out into the courtyard. As you walked alongside the guard toward the great hall, disappointment settled in your stomach like a stone. You did not wish to see Elagabalus—not now, not ever. Inside the hall, Darius stood with an empty expression that offered no comfort.

"Aurelia! Come, I have good news for you," Elagabalus exclaimed excitedly.

But as you locked eyes with Varus standing ominously beside him, a foreboding sense of dread washed over you. What he deemed "good news" felt like a cruel jest.

"I will be crowned today," he proclaimed, his voice echoing through the hall, "and I have decided to hold a public banquet in the Roman Forum tomorrow to celebrate."

You rolled your eyes. As if you gave a damn. I hope people of Rome stab you to death at that banquet, you thought.

“It's not wise to keep mourning so short, though nothing about you is wise,” you muttered.

“Oh, I like your frankness, it's much better than cowardly lying.” He gestured for you to come closer.

Reluctantly, you obeyed.

“I want you with me at the banquette.”

“That’s hardly surprising. Is that what you consider good news?” you replied, skepticism dripping from your tone.

"Right, the good news is that I can't keep you in a cell any longer, so I've decided that you will stay in the Domus Tiberiana. Even better, your nephew Publius will be there with you. See? I'm not that cruel."

His lighthearted remarks left you feeling unsettled, though the prospect of having Publius by your side provided some relief.

“What? Aren’t you going to express your gratitude? How rude of you,” he taunted.

Was he truly joking?

"I'm sure you placed lots of guards in there. It sounds like a bigger cell to me," you remarked, rolling your eyes.

"For your protection and little Publius, dear," he replied with a grin.

"I think you need more protection," you hinted. "Especially from me."

He chuckled and glanced at Varus. "What a woman! She never gives up, does she?"

"She certainly doesn't," Varus said, smiling at you.

You averted your gaze from both of them.

"What do you say we share our decision with her?"

"As you wish, Your Majesty," Varus replied, his voice tinged with excitement.

“Varus has done so much for me; I owe him my very presence here. Therefore, I wish to reward him with something worthy.”

"I don’t care what kind of reward he receives!" you shouted, your frustration boiling over.

He crossed his arms, a glint of foreboding hidden behind his smile. "You should, because you are the reward."

A shiver ran down your spine. "Excuse me?"

"General Varus is an honorable man who deserves respect. He merits a good marriage, and since you are a widow, you are his best potential match."

You shook your head fervently, disbelief etched on your face. "Never…’" you mumbled, the mere thought twisting your stomach into knots. "I would never marry him! Never!"

Elagabalus frowned, his expression suddenly serious. "I believe you misunderstand me, Aurelia. I'm not seeking your opinion."

Varus cleared his throat, bowing his head slightly. "This marriage would be the greatest honor I could ever receive, Your Majesty. I am truly grateful."

"Good, then let the preparations begin,’" Elagabalus declared, an air of finality tinging his words.

It was all too much. You wanted to scream, to fight against the tide of fate that threatened to engulf you, but you felt paralyzed, trembling with fear and anger. The worst torment imaginable seemed to come for you at every turn, leaving you struggling to find the strength to continue living in such a harrowing reality.

“How is his condition?” Marcus asked, anxiety tightening his voice. Marcius lay still, his eyes closed and face pale, every shallow breath causing his small chest to rise and fall.

“He’s better,” Lucius replied. “He’s fighting with everything he has, I assure you.” He hesitated for a moment, glancing down at the swelling around the injury. “Infection is starting to build up, though. I need to prepare some more ointment.”

“When will he open his eyes?” Marcus asked, his voice shaking.

He sighed, “We’ll have to wait a bit longer for that. Rest assured, I’m doing everything I can.”

“I can't thank you enough, Lucius. You’re my brother now,” Marcus said sincerely.

Lucius nodded and smiled at him before leaving the room.

After he left, Marcus sat beside his little boy, thinking of you as he stroked his head. "My son, are you waiting for your mother to open her eyes? I promise I will bring her back," he said. He bent down to kiss the top of his son's head.

As he sat there, his gaze landed on a familiar dress among the items brought from the villa. He picked it up, the fabric delicate in his fingers, and brought it to his nose. The scent—your scent—enveloped him like a cherished memory. He returned to the bed, sinking into the fabric's embrace as he buried his nose in it once more.

"Aurelia, my beloved wife, my radiant sun. How can I find rest in this dark abyss while you are imprisoned in their merciless grasp? How can I remain still, waiting patiently, when I know you are alone in anguish, tears brimming in your eyes? Every moment without you feels like an endless dungeon, suffocating and cold," he said, his voice choked as he wiped the warm tears cascading down his cheeks.

His gaze shifted to Marcius, who murmuring softly in his dreams. “My son, you were born into a world besieged by ruthless tyrants and treacherous souls. They will always covet what you possess and conspire to bring you harm simply because of who you are destined to be. But you must stand resolute; you must never yield to their demands. You will emerge as a valiant and honorable warrior, just like me, and you will place the traitors where they belong—defeated and discredited. An honorable warrior does not take what is not rightfully theirs and does not fall without a fierce struggle.”

There was a soft knock at the door and Marcus got up to open it. It was Cato. "Sir, Commander Darius is here."

"Let's go," he said, closing the door quietly behind him as he left the room. He hoped Darius had news of you.

Everyone had gathered in the courtyard, waiting for Marcus to arrive. When Darius saw Marcus, he pushed back his hood and saluted him. “General.”

“Darius, have you spoken to Lady Aurelia?” Marcus asked, his tone filled with hope.

Darius shook his head. “Unfortunately, sir, I didn’t have a chance." He exhaled nervously. "Lady Aurelia is no longer being held in the cell.”

Marcus frowned. “How so? Where is she?”

“Elagabalus had her sent to the Domus Tiberiana. He also had Publius sent with her, claiming he was not that cruel when he said that, that bastard,” Darius growled.

“At least she won't be stuck in a cell; she'll be more comfortable in the palace,” Marcus muttered, the pain evident in his voice when he says that.

“Perhaps, sir, but he has clearly lost his sanity. Elagabalus is preparing to negotiate a deal with the Carthaginians. He asserts that it is a promise made in exchange for the throne.”

“What specific terms does this deal involve?”

“He intends to relinquish the southern territories to the Carthaginians, which includes the significant cities of Alexandria and Sicily,” he explained.

“He’s truly gone mad!” Octavius bellowed, his voice echoing like thunder in the dimly lit chamber. “We can’t let this happen; we must take action immediately. Sir?”

The room fell silent, all eyes turning to Marcus, awaiting his response.

"Of course we won't let him, we'll bury him in that throne! We need to be clever about this. Fortunately, he still has Darius by his side, and we should use that to our advantage to devise a smart plan. We will involve the senators who remain loyal to Geta. But until then, we must all conceal the fact that we are alive. This is crucial. Do you all understand?”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Octavius looked uneasy. “Sir, I can accept our situation, but it pains me that all of Rome believes you are dead. It's so unfair.”

“We must be patient, Octavius,” Marcus said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “These are just a few of the obstacles we face, but they will not stop us.”

Darius exhaled. "Acacius, your death is officially recorded, and the law is unforgiving in this matter."

Marcus frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I apologize for saying this, but, according to law, Lady Aurelia is now a widow, and—"

"And? Darius, what are you saying?" Marcus asked.

Taking another deep breath, Darius said while locking his eyes on Marcus', "Elagabalus is setting a marriage arrangement between Lady Aurelia and Varus."

A palpable silence descended upon the room as everyone looked at Marcus wide-eyed.

In a sudden burst of anger, Marcus grabbed Darius by the collar and shouted, "What did you just say? Tell me this isn't true!"

Darius lowered his head and replied, "I'm sorry, Acacius, but I heard it with my own ears. He's already ordered preparations to begin."

"What nonsense!" Aris shouted.

"We must kill him at once!" Felix added.

"We can't allow it!" Cato protested.

"Acacius, let’s move and take him down right now," Octavius said, then he turned Darius. "Darius, gather all the praetorians and together we will kill this cunt tonight!"

Darius shook his head. “I wish I could, but Varus commands too many, having dismissed and suspended several of my men. They are closely observing my every move, and the risk is too great. If we were to fail, it could endanger Lady Aurelia or Publius. And, I am well aware that the Domus Tiberiana is filled with soldiers whom he chose specifically."

Marcus stood in the dim glow of flickering torches, his heart racing as silence surrounded him like a heavy shroud. He had to act, he had to do something. "I have to see her," he burst out, desperation lacing his voice.

"They've already taken her to the Domus Tiberiana," Darius cautioned.. "You can't go in there. If they recognize you..."

"She has been through worse than any of us! It’s a miracle she’s still holding on. She needs to know I’m alive — she needs to know her son Marcius is alive. I can’t bear the thought of her all alone there." His voice grew softer, filled with a deep yearning. "I just need to see her, even if only for a moment."

Darius ran a hand through his hair, contemplating. "Well, we can’t enter through the main gate, but perhaps there’s a way through the river. You know, Emperor Geta once considered imprisoning his mother, Julia Domna, there before sending her into exile." He paused, his eyes brightening with the spark of an idea. "I ordered my men to scout potential escape routes, and there’s one Varus's men are completely unaware of. It leads from the river straight to the west courtyard and then to the baths — it’s a drainage route."

"That’s brilliant!" Marcus said. "If I can navigate to the baths, I might be able to slip past the soldiers guarding the inside."

"We’ll help you," Octavius insisted, his face set with determination.

"No, we can’t draw attention. I have to go alone," Marcus protested. "I don’t intend to spill any blood; I just need to see Aurelia."

Octavius shook his head fiercely. "I refuse to send you in there alone."

"It's a risk we can't take, Octavius."

Darius glanced at him. "It certainly is, but Acacius, I’m curious."

"About what?"

"Are you as skilled at climbing as you are at fighting?"

"You doubt my abilities?" Marcus teased.

"Consider that I never asked," Darius smirked.

"What about the soldiers in the courtyard and around garden sir?" Cato inquired.

"I can handle that," Lucius chimed in, approaching them with a smug smile.

"Without detected? How?" Marcus asked, his curiosity piqued. "

"I'll explain if you allow me to accompany you," Lucius replied with a sly smile. "Besides, I'm much better at climbing than any of you.”

The Domus Tiberiana was a long-abandoned palace located in the northwestern corner of the Palatine Hill. Unlike the Domus Severiana, its entrance was not from the main road but rather further inland. It featured a large gate with iron bars, and one had to pass through an extensive garden to reach the courtyard. By the time you arrived, the slaves and guards meant to serve you were already present. When the soldiers brought you into this modest palace, especially in comparison to others, around noon, it felt as if you were entering into a cell again—only larger. The heavy thud of the door slamming shut made you feel like you were cut off from everything outside. You couldn’t shake the feeling of being trapped like a tiger in a cage, just like one you’d seen in the dim underground passage of the Colosseum. It hit you that, much like that tiger, you were going to be used when the time was right. At least the tiger had it better, you thought; its death would be quick and decisive, and it might take a few of its enemies down with it.

But you?

You felt completely helpless against your foes, stuck with nothing but the weight of your situation. You had yet to avenge the loss of Marcus, your son, your little girl, and your brother Geta. They had all been taken from you one by one, and it felt as if you could barely breathe without them. Damn survival instinct, you thought. It wouldn't be long, though; you had to make sure Varus was dead before you could reunite them in the afterlife. Then it wouldn't be an issue to die.

That evening, as you looked out over the Tiber River from the balcony of what was supposed to be your new room, you realized how lonely you were. You could no longer trust the slaves who assisted you with changing and brought you food, nor could you rely on the guards in the courtyard and at the entrance. As you gazed at the hill ahead, thoughts of Marcus filled your mind. Just beyond that hill lay your villa and meadow, and you would have given anything to return to those days.

“If only I had stopped Marcus that day and somehow prevented him from leaving,” you sighed to yourself. Accepting the reality that he was no longer alive was unbearable; it felt as if it would swallow you whole, leaving nothing behind.

Publius' presence beside you provided a semblance of strength, much like the burning desire for vengeance within you. He was a perfect copy of his father, with the same eyes and hair, and that was all that was left of Geta. Looking at him, memories of Marcius flooded your mind. A part of you wanted to believe he was still alive, but your logic insisted he couldn't have survived the arrow.

And your little girl? You could barely bear to think of her; she was so tiny, the mere thought of anything happening to her made you shudder. Beneath all this pain, it felt as if the temple of Jupiter had collapsed, crushing you beneath its great marble pillars.

Just then, there was a knock at the door, and one of the slaves entered with your permission. "My lady, General Varus is here," he said, then left the room.

General... you thought. There was only one general for you.

But this could be an opportunity. If you could be alone with him, maybe you had a chance. You desperately wished you had the knife Marcus gave you on your ankle right now. But it wasn't, and you had to deal with it in another way. Your gaze was fixed on the knife on the tray that the slaves had brought. It had been intended for cutting bread; it was small, but it would do. You picked it up and examined it. It wasn't as sharp as your knife, but if you could aim for the right spot, or stab with it... You recalled everything Marcus had taught you, trying to memorize each lesson. It was extremely difficult to plan this attack against a soldier, especially a commander. You had only one chance, and failure was not an option since you had already attempted to attack him twice before.

You tucked the knife between the fabric of your belt and checked it before leaving the room. Taking a deep breath, you left to meet him.

"You can do this, you can do this," you murmured to yourself as you walked down the corridor to the courtyard. Varus stood in the corner, examining the bust of Emperor Nero. Your confidence grew when you saw he was unarmored, wearing his official toga in shades of purple and blue. He was actually quite vulnerable, as his back was turned. However, he quickly turned around when he heard your footsteps.

“Lady Aurelia,” he said.

You averted your gaze. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

“I realize you don't like me, but you must respect me.”

“Respect is earned. It’s not something you get from clothes or rank. And I promise you, you'll never earn my respect.”

He grinned as he approached you. “Is that so? I'm a determined man, Aurelia. I always get what I desire; you can see that from my current position.” He continued walking towards you, causing you to instinctively take a step back. “You were something I desired, too, and I’m about to have you. Perhaps I won’t earn your respect, but I will gain something else.”

You felt nauseous as he observed your body with a hungry, wolf-like stare. Instead of slapping him, you decided to provoke him; deliberately, you took another step backward. “What is it?” you asked, playing the fool.

He looked suspicious as he kept walking towards you, and it seemed like he was enjoying it. With nowhere else to go, you leaned against the wall, standing at attention with one hand on your belt as he took another step closer. “You and everything that belongs to you,” he said.

You were taken aback when he cupped your chin in his large hand firmly. His eyes were fixed on your lips, and you knew it was the perfect moment.

You drew the knife from your belt with your right hand, aimed it at his stomach and tried to stab him there. Though not as deep as you would have wished, the knife managed to pierce his abdomen and toga. Seizing the opportunity presented by his astonishment, you lunged at him again, this time aiming for his neck. You resisted with all your strength as he held you tightly by both arms, but eventually your smaller frame was no match for his strength, and you succumbed to the struggle. But not before you cut his bare arm deep enough to draw blood. Groaning in pain, he grabbed your hair and pulled viciously, then slammed you to the ground.

"You stubborn whore!" he shouted as he stared down at his bleeding wound in shock.

The look of bewilderment on his face made you laugh as you slowly pushed yourself up from the stone floor. He came up angrily, grabbing your hair. "I won't do anything to your face to make you appear ugly at the wedding, but I promise that once you become my wife, I will do things to you that will make you wish you had never been born!"

He shouted and shoved you. You fell to the ground once more, and as your cheek pressed against the cold stone floor, tears began to flow—not because you were hurt, but because you had missed your chance.

The slaves had heard the noises, and while Varus was leaving the palace, they came to you and helped lift you from the ground. You ordered them to leave you alone and not to enter the courtyard to disturb you again.

It was so close; you almost killed him, but the opportunity had slipped away. You picked up the knife from the floor and sat on the lectus. You could never marry him—no, you could never be someone else's wife, and you could never let him touch you. Instead, death was a better option. As you looked at the knife, you actually thought it might be a good thing to take your own life right there, right now. Then there would be no princess for Varus to wed, nor for Elagabalus to use her power for his benefit. Moreover, it was the only way to relieve all your pain, you knew it.

Marcus and Lucius were being overly cautious as they sneaked along the banks of the Tiber and into the underground corridors of the Domus Tiberiana. It was a short but troubling path. According to Darius' account, they first had to pass through Velabrum and climb the walls leading from the edge of the Magna Mater temple to the south garden of the palace. Lucius was just as good at climbing as he claimed to be, chuckling while Marcus panted a little.

“If I were your age, I’d climb faster than you, I promise.”

“Or, are you complaining about your age, General?”

“Never! I’m just saying the conditions aren’t equal.”

Lucius jumped into the garden, waiting for him. “Fair enough. Where to now?”

“To Domitian's ramp. That will take us directly to the inner courtyard.” Marcus gestured for Lucius to crouch. “There it is,” he said, pointing ahead.

“This looks like a ramp with a lot of turns, and I see some soldiers.”

“Praetorians,” Marcus hissed. “I count three. No one would dare sneak in here; most of them are guarding the entrance. If we can get past these two, the others will be easier to deal with. Remember, we can’t let them see us. Killing is not an option. Knocking them out is a last resort, though I’m not sure how you’re going to do that.”

“You don’t trust me, General? You’re hurting my feelings.”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “If I didn’t trust you, I would have come alone.”

Lucius looked at him earnestly. “I’m here for her. I’ll give you all the time you need, but remember, you’re the one they think is dead. Don't expose yourself to anyone. I won’t let her get hurt again because of you.”

Marcus gave him a stern look. “I’m already here because I can’t bear to see her hurt anymore. So stop getting on my nerves and follow me.”

“After you,” Lucius growled.

They both tried to be very quiet as they climbed up the ramp. When the first guard turned his back, they hurried around the corner, passing him and the second guard. But when they reached the courtyard, they saw two guards standing side by side in a corner. To get behind them, they would have to go around the fountain, but that seemed too risky. Just then, one of the guards moved into the garden, giving them the opportunity to approach the other guard from behind.

It was impossible to reach the other courtyard without passing him, so they had to neutralise him. Lucius poured a small vial of herbal medicine onto a cloth and, reaching from behind, forced the guard to sniff it. The guard struggled, but the overpowering scent made him lose consciousness. They quickly hid him in a nearby bush.

"Impressive, what is this?" Marcus asked while looking around.

"Hyoscyamus niger," Lucius replied. "It has a knockout effect, and this is a concentrated essence I made. He'll come to his senses in the morning."

"Good. Her chambers should be located in the courtyard beyond."

"Very well, I'll wait here for your return."

Marcus nodded, but before he could take a step forward, Lucius called out to him, “Be careful.”

“You too,” Marcus replied.

Once he reached the courtyard, Marcus noticed that it was quiet; no one was around. He cursed under his breath when he spotted two guards near the entrance, close to the stairs leading to your chambers. Although they couldn't hear him from that distance, it was still too dangerous—he needed to find another route.

As he turned toward the courtyard, he caught sight of a woman with her back turned to him. The color of her hair, how it fell over her shoulder, and her posture made his heart skip a beat. It was definitely you.

He glanced around before taking a cautious step closer. The courtyard was deserted; not a slave or anyone else was in sight. The guards wouldn’t be here at this hour, and he wouldn’t have cared if they were. He longed to see your face, to touch your skin, to hear your voice—and now, here was his chance.

As you looked at the knife in your hand, the weight of guilt for what you were about to do filled your mind. “It's just a cut,” you reminded yourself. “You know where to cut; just do it.” Taking a deep breath, you pressed the knife just above the carotid artery. “If you're alive, forgive me, Marcus,” you thought, hearing light footsteps approaching from behind. You didn't turn around; you couldn't let anyone stop you now. Marcus hadn't seen the knife in your hand and was unaware of your intentions. He pushed back his hood and smiled as he took in your appearance from behind.

“My lady...”

This voice... That velvety, deep voice that your ears had longed to hear once more. The voice you never thought you would hear again. You were so surprised that, for a moment, you forgot you were holding a knife. Your hand began to tremble, and the sharp edge of the blade cut your skin, leaving a thin line. But you didn’t care; you didn’t even feel it. Your whole body was numbed by the desire to see the face of the voice’s owner.

When you stood up, turned around, and finally saw his face, your entire body began to shake as if you were about to have a stroke. You even forgot how to breathe. As you stared at him with your mouth agape, he stepped closer and looked at you with that wonderful smile. When he touched your face with his hands, tears began to flood your eyes, followed by uncontrollable sobs. Suddenly he realised the cut on your neck, and the knife in your hand. He immediately picked up the knife.

“Aurelia, what were you doing—”

The concern etched on his handsome face took your breath away. How stunningly beautiful he looked…

“Marcus,” you whispered, still in disbelief at his presence. “Is this really you? Am I dead? Or have you resurrected?”

His warm brown eyes sparkled as they locked onto yours, radiating a sense of comfort and love. “No, my love. You are not dead, and I am not resurrected. I have navigated and dismantled all the enemy's traps and came back to you.”

Overwhelmed with emotion, you leaped into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his chest. As he held you close, the rhythm of his heartbeat felt like a soothing lullaby, and he tenderly stroked your hair, bringing a few strands to his nose to inhale your familiar, heavenly scent. In that moment, his heart soared, relieved to be in this blissful haven once again. It felt so divine to be enveloped by his strong arms that you shut your eyes tight, praying this wasn’t just a dream.

“You never left, anyway,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “You’ve always been with me. Everywhere I turned, there you were. If my soul hasn’t departed from my body, it’s because I hold onto the belief that you are alive, Marcus.”

He ran his lips through your hair and kissed your forehead. "How could I ever leave you and our children? I would rise again, even if I died, just to look into your beautiful eyes one more time and hear your sweet voice again."

His words sent a delicate ache through your heart at the mention of “our children.” As tears streamed down your cheeks, he took your hands—still encircling his neck—and kissed them with an air of reverence. Then, he tenderly examined the cut on your neck, his gaze filled with concern.

“My beautiful princess,” he said softly, “I see the pain you’ve endured and the wounds in your heart. I have come to cleanse you of all your suffering and heal your wounds.” He then kissed your lips with deep longing.

As you reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, your heart ached with the weight of unspoken fears. “Marcus, our son... our daughter... I couldn't protect them,” you confessed, your gaze drooping as despair clouded your vision. But to your astonishment, you watched as a warm smile spread across his lips. He leaned closer, brushing his lips against yours once more, tenderly, almost reverently. “They’re alive, my love,” he reassured you.

He pressed another kiss to your lips, savoring the moment, realizing just how deeply he had missed the look of sweet surprise on your face, every subtle gesture, every intricate detail of your being.

“Is that true?” you asked, hope creeping into your voice.

“It’s true, my love. Believe me, my darling."

Suddenly, a huge smile spread across his face, and your sobs turned into giggles as you hugged him again. It was almost as if all your wounds had healed; you felt alive once more.

“Thank the gods, Marcus. It’s so good to touch you again, to be wrapped in your arms. With you here, I feel complete,” you breathed.

He held you close, pressing you tightly against him, resting his chin atop your head as if anchoring you both in that perfect moment. “So am I, my love, you are my reason for being. Forgive me for being late; I will never let you suffer such pain again,” he promised with a fierce intensity.

“Now that you’re here, touching me, all my pain has vanished,” you whispered, overwhelmed by the warmth of his presence.

A playful grin spread across his face, and he leaned down to claim your lips once more, kissing you deeply, passionately, and with an abundance of love. As he pulled you closer, he lifted you up and spun you around, your delighted giggles ringing out like music in the courtyard.

But the enchantment was abruptly shattered as you heard footsteps approaching, dragging you back to the bittersweet reality of your surroundings.

“I can’t let them see me,” Marcus said anxiously.

“Hide over there,” you said pointing to the space behind the column. He lovingly kissed your hand before finding his hiding spot.

One of the guards stopped when he saw you. “My lady? I heard a noise. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, you can return to your post. I will retire to my room now,” you replied, a calm authority laced in your voice.

He dipped his head in respect, turning on his heel and walking away. Once he was out of sight, you turned to Marcus. “Come with me.” You took his hand, your grip firm as if afraid you might lose him if you didn't hold on tight.

Marcus smiled as he walked beside you, admiring your beautiful face. His heart felt light as he accompanied you to your chambers, a smile dancing on his lips.

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[leaawrites]

Dreams of forbidden territory

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: one dream and feelings will be spilled from both sides.

Warnings: Sexual content (really minimum but still, 18+, mdni), sexual reference, Best Friend's sister, reader is insecure of her legs, this is probably the smuttiest I'll ever write.

Wordcount: 3.3k

Masterlist

His teeth scraped down her hips. His hands were placed on her waist, holding her down. Low humming sounds vibrating on her skin making her moan in the quiet. He looked up at her, squeezing her flesh under his hands in disapproval.

“Gotta keep quiet, princess,” he told her, tatting her at her behavior. “Can’t have him find out.”

The scene replayed on her mind ever since she woke up from it. Trying to wrap her mind around who he meant - who wasn’t supposed to find out? - but then it hit her. Max, her brother. He couldn’t find out she had a sex dream about his best friend. The best friend who was now sat opposite her, eating his breakfast in peace. He noticed her staring but he ignored it, thinking she was annoyed at him again.

Truth been told, she was. If there was anything that made her annoyed at him was that nothing after that sequence she saw happened. When she tried falling asleep again, it didn’t work. She couldn’t escape into the dream again. Not even her own creativity was capable to figure out how it would’ve ended. She didn’t know what he was like, she also couldn’t make up her mind as to what he might be like.

“You’ve got a staring problem or something?” Lando asked, making her snap out of her trance.

Blinking at him before muttering a soft ‘sorry’ and going back to her own food. He looked at her confused, normally she would roll her eyes and say something in a sarcastic manner to him. But not today, and not until the end of the week.

It was always just him catching her staring at him or somewhere in the room for a long time, then she would say sorry and act like he caught her in an embarrassing situation. Like she smashed a plate that he considered his favourite or like she accidentally was the reason for one of his races failing.

Even Max noticed, asking Lando about it but he couldn’t give him more of an answer than, “I don’t know, mate. Maybe she just needs some time. Let her be.” They agreed ro wait until Sunday to ask her, both convinced that she would act normal by then. But the time they gave her was up and she still avoided him.most of the time.

The image was printed in her mind, never leaving her alone. He was always there, whether it be physically or in her daydreams. She saw them together everywhere. Not just fucking but also cuddling, sharing kisses, joking around together. She watched him from her seat around the pool. Watched his arms move smoothly through the water, but all she could think about them in the water together. Laughing and play fighting.

Max sat down next to her, without her noticing, observing her staring at Lando. A few other friends sat around the pool as well and more than enough times, Lando’s swimming session was stopped by one of the talking to him. He answered while swimming until even his stamina was used up and he leaned against the edge of the pool to talk to them.

“You’re not being very subtle,” Max commented, making her jump in surprise at his sudden appearance. She really didn’t notice him sitting down next to her.

“What are you talking about?” She asked, her face looking back towards the book in her lap, though her eyes still slipped up towards the man in the water now and then. Her lips pulling themselves up as he laughed. The sound ringing through the air, finding it’s way to her heart once again.

“You like him, clearly.” Max looked away from her towards Lando, seeing the boys own eyes falling onto his sister as he climbed out of the pool and sat down next to a friend. “Tell him.”

The girl’s mouth flew open in shock at the suggestion. “Definitely not.”

“Why not?” Max continued asking, nudging her arm with his elbow.

The girl was silent for a moment. Why not? It was a simple question, which required a simple answer. “He most likely doesn’t like me back.”

“You don’t know that.” He knew, trying to get your sister and your best friend dating wasn’t the ideal plan for him, but he knew Lando and even though the boy was reckless most times and a playboy to say the least, he also saw the side of him that was caring and kind and loving. He knew him longer than anyone and he knew that Lando cared for his sister. Even without asking he would know, simply from the way he spoke to her and the way he looked at her. But none of the two would say anything. They were playing it safe and Max finally had enough.

“Alright,” he finally answered, shrugging and standing up. Walking over towards Lando and his other friend, joining their conversation.

Why not?

The day was nearing an end, the sun setting over the Portuguese landscape. A orange pink sky forming above her. Y/n watched the sky as it changed colors, she watched them appear and fade. She watched them reemerge and wished she could be as pretty as the sky. Whether it was day or night - rainy or sunny - it always looked pretty.

A knock was heard outside the door and she though about sending whoever was stood there away, but she knew she couldn’t. May made plans for a restaurant and they were probably already waiting for her.

Stepping back inside the room, Y/n saw Lando leaning against the door frame, watching her. She moved her head to the side, asking him what he was doing here in silence. It had always been like this. They would communicate without talking, always knowing what the other was saying.

“Max told me to call you down,” he explained. They were in fact running a bit behind schedule, but Lando didn’t seemed faced by it.

“OK, tell him I’ll be right there,” she said, walking over to the mirror, expecting him to go, and flattening out the long flowy skirt she chose.

He was still watching her.

“Why are you always wearing long skirts?” Lando asked all of a sudden.

She locked eyes with him through the mirror, furrowing her eyebrows in need of an explanation to his question. Which he gladly gave, truly interested.

“I mean, even at the beach you wear a long cover up. And when we go out you always wear long pants or skirts or dresses. Why don’t you wear a pair of shorts or a short skirt when it’s half burning outside?” He asked, taking a step closer to her.

Y/n frowned. She owned shorts and short dresses and skirts but she never thought they looked good. Was he implying the long looked good neither? Did nothing look good on her? Is that what he was saying?

Lando could see the thoughts entering her brain. The bad ones. The ones that made him want to love her even more.

Walking behind her, Lando put his hands on the fabric of her skirt, taking as much of it in his hands as he could and making it shorter with every second, until he reached her upper thighs. Holding it there, he looked at her now exposed legs. If he pulled it even higher he was sure he could get a glimpse of her underwear, but he wouldn’t do that. Not without knowing how she would feel about it first.

“It’s looking good,” he whispered, before letting the fabric fall again and stepping back from her. What he wouldn’t do to show her just how beautiful she truly was. What he wouldn’t do to make her see herself the way he sees her. If it wasn’t for Max she would already be his. But Lando knew, that if he made a move Max would surely make sure they would never see each other again. He didn’t want that. So, he sat quietly, watching from the sidelines when he met her in a club or they were out in the same friend group, flirting with other guys that couldn’t even treat her half as good as he could.

For a moment she couldn’t believe she was alive, breathing. Her mind stopped functioning the moment he stood behind her, his hands on her legs for a second before exposing her legs. Looking at the closet in her room and remembering the one short piece she brought to the trip. She would wear that sometime probably now, making sure he was there to see. But now they had to go.

Both appearing together at the bottom of the steps, Max rolled his eyes at the pair. “What have you been doing there so long?” He asked, receiving a smirk from Lando in return, but he knew nothing happened. At least nothing too sexual. Y/n hid her face from Max, still blushing at the simple touch from Lando.

“Ready to eat?” Pietra asked from the door, Max’s car keys dangling in between her fingers. The others already drove to the restaurant, making sure their reservation wouldn’t blow off. Leaving the four to arrive later. With Max driving, Pietra normally sat in the front though now, she climbed in the backseat, pulling Y/n with her, much to Lando’s demise.

On the way to the place, Pietra opened the notes app on her phone titling the new file: Wtf happened in your room?

Handing it over to the girl, Y/n looked at her with a smile at first, deciding whether she should tell her or not, but eventually she gave in, writing every detail down. From the leaning against the door frame and the staring to the words he spoke. She told her everything. And she watched while Pietra read it, slower than she hoped, her mouth wide open in shock by the end of it.

Quickly she tipped something back. Handing the phone over again, Y/n read: Holy shitttttttt. That boy’s in love with you, I swear. Make sure to remind me to buy you more short pieces.

Y/n rolled her eyes, giving the phone back and turning away from the blonde, looking out the window.

The place was nice. Filled completely. No table was empty and when Max said his name to the girl at the entrance, she made a move for them to follow her. It was also minimal spacious, making them all walk in a line behind each other. Lando’s hand almost immediately made it’s way towards her back whenever they walked past a group of guys or a tight space. It was almost a regular touch for them, but ever since that night she couldn’t think straight. And a once innocent touch now made her mind wander to different things. Like how he would push her body down at the same place on her back while he fucked her from behind.

Quickly blinking the thoughts away, she didn’t even notice that they arrived at the table, or how Lando caught her snapping out of something, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden.

“You okay?” He asked, leaning closer to her ear in order for the others not to hear. Although they were focused on their own conversation, you never knew when someone was eavesdropping.

The girl jumped slightly at his voice so near to her ear, his breath grazing her skin softly. It was warm against her cold flesh.

She nodded, avoiding his eyes. She didn’t want to know which thoughts would enter her mind while looking into his eyes.

Lando furrowed his eyebrows, she was still avoiding him the way she did most of the week now. It made him almost furious. Why wouldn’t she look at him? Did he do something wrong? Was it something he said? Placing his hand on her thigh he tried to get her attention back, but she wouldn’t give it to him. Shuffling a bit away from him to let him know he better take his hand away from her. Which he did. But not without even more questions on his mind. What the fuck was that about now?

For the whole evening, Y/n avoided Lando, conversing with people longer than him that she didn’t even know half as good as him.

Pietra watched them, as did Max, and both looked at each other, knowing something was definitely wrong. But what was it?

“Hey Y/n?” Pietra called over the table, catching the girls attention, as well as Lando’s. “What do you say, I give you 10 pounds of you take one of the guys over there on the table home.” She pointed towards one of the tables to their right.

A group of young, fairly attractive men sat there. One was turning towards their table almost every second, looking at her. Everyone at their table looked at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. But not Lando. He had his gaze fixed on the table, especially the dude staring at her. His girl. But not really. It was his fault she wasn’t his, so who was he to say something against a bet? It was just a bet, he tried to calm himself down, nothing else. Just a bet.

She wanted to say yes, to take one of them home and make her forget for even just one night. But then she felt his hand against her leg again. Not because he placed it there on purpose, but because it simply slipped there. Before he noticed himself, she felt his hand almost trembling against her leg. Apologizing as he noticed, pulling it back immediately. Would it be a normal night he would’ve let it sit there. Though nothing seemed normal anymore. At least not until they got back from this vacation. Lando would go back to traveling the world, barely thinking of her other than when Max mentioned her once or maybe even twice. Y/n would go back to her own job, her own place. Her own life. Should she really accept P’s offer?

“Not for 10 pounds, babe,” Y/n answered, making Pietra scoff at her behavior. Looking over at Lando’s hand, laying in his lap, she saw it stopped shaking. And she saw him inhale deeply like he held his breath for the last seconds. This wasn’t all because of the possibility of her going home with someone else, was it?

As they finished up and payed all their part, Lando made his way towards Max’s car, with Max hanging from his shoulder, drunk. Y/n couldn’t believe he got drunk that quick. Laughing whenever he tripped over his own feet, almost taking Lando down with him.

“Stop laughing,” Lando told her, but she didn’t. She simply couldn’t. “Open the door,” he ordered to her, standing in front of the back seat door.

“Yes, sir,” she said in a jokingly manner.

Unlocking the car and opening the door, she heard him mutter: “Fuck, don’t say that when your brother’s here.”

She stopped moving for a second, before continuing opening the door and quickly climbing in the passenger seat, praying Pietra was the one driving. But when the blonde opened the other back seat door, Y/n knew she was fucked. Lando climbed into the driver seat and started the car, not acknowledging what he said, praying she didn’t hear him.

But she did. And God, how clear it was in her ears.

They drove back home, embracing the evening air. Low music was coming from the stereo, Y/n’s Spotify playlist she made for Lando and herself years ago. Mostly Taylor Swift, but also some other pieces. Humming the melody to every song and singing a few lines every now and then until they arrived.

Lando stared at her in awe whenever he heard her voice, and though she didn’t notice, Pietra clearly did. Sending him a smirk when he looked in the rear view. He sighed quietly, he was down bad. For someone he shouldn’t like more than his best friend’s little sister.

Getting Max into bed was a horror. Pietra was already somewhat of a pro in it, though she still appreciated the help she received from the other two. Telling them goodnight before shoeing the pair out in the quiet, dark hallway.

“I’m gonna go to bed now,” Y/n said, pointing towards her room and start walking. Ignoring his gaze once again. Closing the door behind her.

Before Lando could stop himself, or even think about what he was doing, he followed her steps. Opening the door and stepping into the room. He didn’t think of the possibility of her already undressing herself, getting ready for bed, until he saw her, standing with her back towards him in only her shirt and panties. A black lace garment.

“Fuck,” he breathed out at the sight of her.

Y/n turned around, her eyes wide, backing away from him, but he already saw what she tried to hide. He was staring at her legs.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Lando,” the girl said, turning around again. Her face hot. She couldn’t face him now, not like this. “What are you doing here? You know there’s something called knocking,” she lectured him, making him chuckle.

“I’m not mad about it.” Fuck it, he thought, if this was it now, at least he saw her how he always desired to see her.

“What?” She asked, turning her head around to look at him, trying to catch his eyes, but she wasn’t able to. His eyes were definitely not fixed on the back of her head.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” He blurted out, only now remembering what he came for.

“I’m not avoiding you,” she defended herself, knowing that wasn’t the truth. She didn’t want to, but she had to.

“Darling, don’t act like I’m stupid,” he told her. Her bottom lip slipping between her teeth at the nickname, her eyes closing for a second.

What did she have to lose now? He stood in her bedroom with her half naked, staring at her ass without much shyness. There had to be something in his feelings towards her, right?

“I had a dream,” she confessed, looking at the wall.

“What did you dream?” He asked absentmindedly.

“Your teeth were moving down my hips,” she said, making him close his eyes to see the image she painted in front of his eyes. “And you told me to keep quiet.”

“Why did I tell you that? Would wanna hear your pretty sounds every day.” There was no room for any form of uncomfortably now between them. They were simply honest and needy.

“Because of Max.” At his mention Lando’s eyes opened again. Right, that’s why he usually overthought everything with her.

The silence was deafening and she knew that that was the wrong thing to say in that moment. She was sure she was back to being little Y/n, the sister of his best friend. Nothing more.

His hands found her waist, pulling her closer. Y/n gasped at the contact, holding her breath. His lips were traveling down her neck. She moved her head to give him more skin to cherish.

“If you don’t say anything, I won’t too,” he told her, turning her to press their fronts together. His pinky sticking in front of her face for her to take. She did. Taking his hand in hers after that and putting two of his fingers into her mouth, sucking on them slowly, making him groan in pleasure.

“I’ll treat you so nice, I promise,” Lando whispered, before taking his fingers from her mouth and capturing her lips with his. Walking backwards and letting them sink on the mattress slowly.

[arc-misadventures]

The Little Girl in the White Coat

Ruby: Ahh?!

Summer: What's wrong, Ruby?

Ruby: I burnt my marshmallow...

Tai: Give it here, Ruby. You can have mine, mine is nice, and brown!

Ruby: Yay! Thanks, Dad!

Qrow: How's yours coming along, Firecracker?

Yang: It's great! If Mom would stop stealing my marshmallows!

Raven: What?! I take offence to that! I did not steal my daughters marshmallows!

Tai: I can see the chocolate on your cheek from your last smore, Dear.

Raven: Ahh crap...

Qrow: Hahaha!

Tai: Alright girls, it's getting late, we best head to bed.

Ruby: What?!

Yang: No!

Tai: Come on girls it's late.

Ruby: Not until you tell us a story!

Yang: A scary ghost story!

Qrow: Well... we are around a campfire, and it is late at night. Its a perfect time for scary ghost stories!

Summer: Okay, but only one ghost story then off to bed with the both of you.

RY: Yay!

Tai: So, who has a scary ghost story. Ray, you got a scary ghost story to tell?

Raven: G-Ghost story?! N-N-N-No! I don't have anything to share!

Summer: Is, Raven...?

Qrow: Afraid of ghosts? Absolutely!

Summer: Oh? Oh that's good to know~!

Tai: What about you, Qrow?

Qrow: The clan didn't really tell scary stories. What about you?

Tai: Dad, never told me any stories around the campfire.

Summer: Well, looks like it's up to me then.

Ruby: You have a ghost story to tell, Mom?!

Yang: Is it scary?!

Summer: Mmm... It is a ghost story, but it's not a scary ghost story.

RY: Nawww...

Summer: But, it's also a story of a hero!

Ruby: A hero?!

Yang: A ghost story about a hero? That doesn't make sense.

Summer: Yes! This is a ghost story about the, Rusted Ghost!

Yang: The Rusted Ghost...?

Ruby: Can ghosts get rusty?

Summer: No, this is just the name of this particular ghost. Now then, you've all heard of the, Rusted Knight before?

Yang: Yeah! From that, Ever After book you read us!

Ruby: The Rusted Knight is the coolest!

Summer: Well, what if I told you a story about how the spirit, the ghost of the, Rusted Knight appears in this world too!

Ruby: What!

Yang: Is that true?!

Summer: Yes! Now then, this is a story about a young girl, no older than you, Yang. A young girl traveling through the woods, she was dressed in her favourite white coat, caring loafs of freshly baked bread to give to her loving grandfather!

Ruby: Bread? Why not smores?

Tai: You can't have another smore, Ruby.

Ruby: Nawww...

Yang: Keep going, Mom!

Summer: Well, as the little girl in the white coat was making her way through the woods, a pack of, Beowulf's jumped out of the bushes surrounding the little girl in the white coat!

Yang: Ahh?!

Ruby: Beowulf's?!

Summer: Yes! Beowulf's! They had come there to steal the little girl with the white coat basket! The evil, Beowulf's wanted all of her freshly baked bread for themselves! But, as the little girl in the white coat was cowering away from the, Beowulf's clutching her basket of bread in her hands. A rustling from the bushes was heard, and out from the bushes emerged, the Rusted Ghost!

Summer: The Rusted Ghost wore stunning pale white armour, he wore a helmet with slit groves in it. The ghost wore an off white cloak billowing in the wind. The ghosts armour was covered in gold that filled crevices in his shattered, and broken armour. The gold bled off across the armour, giving it the appearance of rust! He had a longsword, wrapped in a faded deep blue cloth along the hilt rested against his hip.

Summer: As he neared the monsters he pointed at the monsters, he spoke in a silent yet booming voice demanded that these monsters leave her alone! The Beowulf's all pointed, and laughed at him, they said they weren't going to do anything. That they were going to take the little girl in the white coat bread, and eat it all up!

Summer: But, the Rusted Ghost merely sighed as he drew his sword! And, as the Beowulf's saw this, and they charged him!

Ruby: No?!

Yang: They attacked him?!

Summer: Yes! They charged at the, Rusted Ghost! They bared their fangs at him, but the, Rusted Ghost stood it's ground! As the first, Beowulf lunged at him, his rusted blade flew through the air with a white, and golden blur as it sliced through one, Beowulf after another!

Summer: And, as the last, Beowulf fell, it's body fading into black smoke, disappearing, and blowing away before it even reached the ground! The Rusted Ghost looked around before sheathing it's blade, it walked along the ground with heavy, yet silent steps as it came closer to the girl in the white coat. The Rusted Ghost knelt before the girl, and ask if she was alright.

Summer: The Rusted Ghost asked the little girl in the white coat if she was alright, she said she was fine. The Rusted Ghost asked why she was alone in the woods, she said she was on her way to give this bread to her grandfather. The Rusted Ghost said it would protect the little girl in the white coat all the way to her grandfathers home.

Summer: So, the little girl in the white coat walked alongside the, Rusted Ghost. They walked towards her grandfather's home, as the little girl in the white coat saw her grandfathers house in the distance she ran towards it. She knocked on her grandfathers door, and her saw his dear grandfather. She leapt into his arms as she told him the story of her encounter with the, Rusted Ghost.

Summer: But, as the little girl in the white coat pointed towards the, Rusted Ghost, she pointed towards an empty path that lead out of the woods. The Rusted Ghost was gone! The little girl in the white coat cried out that it was just there, but the grandfather just laughed as he rubbed the little girl in the white coat hair, and brought her inside into enjoy some strawberry jam on a slice of freshly baked bread.

Summer: And, while the little girl in the white coat was sad that the, Rusted Ghost left, the Rusted Ghost was needed elsewhere. For there were other little girls, and boys out there in the world that needed the help from the, Rusted Ghost.

Summer: And, that my girls is the story of, 'The Little Girl in the White Coat, and the Rusted Ghost.' What do you think?

Ruby: That was an amazing story mom!

Yang: That was a great story mom!

Ruby: Another! Anoth... yawnnnnn... another story...

Tai: I don't think so, Ruby, looks like your body is saying it's time for bed. Come on, let's get to bed.

Ruby: But, I don't wanna... Zzzzz...

Qrow: Haha! And, she's out like a light!

Raven: Come on my little dragon, it's time for you to go to bed too.

Yang: Alright, Mom. Goodnight, Mommy.

Summer: Goodnight, Yang.

~~~

Tai: Okay, the girls have been put to bed.

Raven: And, since the kids are asleep, the drinks are out!

Qrow: Yes! Toss a can here!

Raven: Here ya go little brother. Tai, you want one?

Tai: Sure toss it here.

Raven: Here you go. Sunny?

Summer: Hmm?

Raven: You want a beer?

Summer: Oh? No, no thank you.

Raven: Suit yourself.

Qrow: Ahhh! Now this is how you finish a night: Sitting by all your friends around a campfire, drinking a beer under the stars!

Tai: It sure is.

Raven: Ahh~! That hits the spot... So, Summer?

Summer: Yes?

Raven: 'The Little Girl in the White Coat, and the, Rusted Ghost...' You know, I've heard plenty of stories about the, Rusted Ghost, but I've never heard that one before.

Tai: You've heard ghost stories about the, Rusted Ghost? I thought you bandits would tell horror ghost stories around the campfire, not stories about the, Rusted Ghost.

Qrow: No, we've heard quite a few stories about the, Rusted Ghost. but, I've never heard that one before either.

Raven: Did you just make that one on the spot?

Summer: On the spot? No... Well... I... I just tweaked it.

Raven: You 'tweaked it?'

Tai: What do you mean by that?

Summer: Well... The little girl in the white coat, doesn't sound so different than the little girl in the white cloak.

Qrow: The little girl in the white cloak?

Tai: The white cloak?

Raven: Wait, was this story about you?

Summer: Some of it, the real story is actually rather... dark.

Qrow: What do you mean by that?

Summer: ...

Summer: This story takes place when I was fourteen. I was in a small town with my grandfather, I was training to become a, Huntress, and my grandfather took me to this small town dealing with, Grimm attacks.

Summer: While my grandfather was talking to the mayor, two men came to me panicking, they told me they saw some, Grimm. Not thinking about it I followed them, but as we got deeper into the woods, three more men came out of the trees, and jumped me.

Qrow: They what?!

Tai: They jumped you...?!

Summer: Yeah... Two of them forced me to the ground holding my arms as I struggled in vain to get them off. Another kept there hand over my mouth so I couldn't scream for help as another man loomed over me...

Summer: He said I was stupid little girl... A wanna be, Huntress falling for such a simple little trap. Wanting to be the hero, not thinking about running straight into danger.

Summer: His companion... one of the men who tricked me into coming into the woods told the man to shut up, and get on with it already...

Summer: The man standing over me laughed as he told him to shut up, that he was just, 'savouring the moment.' After that, he ripped up my corset, then he tore off my skirt, next was my undershirt... Then lastly... he ripped of my bra...

Summer: Three men were holding me down, another was standing by watching, and the last one was kneeling over me, stripping me naked... In that moment... even after years of facing down hordes of, Grimm, I've never been more scared in all my life. Even now, just talking about it sends chills down my spine...

Tai: Summer... Y-You don't need to continue if...

Summer: No... No, you three are my family... You deserve to know this story. Besides... as scary as this all was, it ends on a somewhat pleasant note...

Raven: How the fuck does a story about almost being rapped end pleasantly?!

Summer: Because I wasn't rapped.

Tai: Oh thank gods...

Qrow: Gods... You scared the shit out of us, Summer! Gods, Raven hand me another beer, I'm going to need it.

Raven: Okay, but I get the other one. Hell, I think I better break out another six pack.

Tai: Good idea...

Qrow: I hate to saying this, but... can you please continue, Summer?

Summer: Okay... Well as I was struggling in vain to break away, there wasn't much a fourteen year old could do to get four fully grown men off of her. A voice, a voice as silent as the nights sky, but boomed with the echoing roar of a thunderstorm spoke up.

Summer: It asked what was going on, the man standing by the side told the man to go fuck off. The voice spoke again, asking what they was doing with that girl, to me. The man laughed as he said that they were going to have some fun with me. In a quiet yet commanding voice I heard the words, 'I see.' I then heard the sound of shuffling of metal as heavy, yet light footsteps neared me.

Summer: The voice said one thing, 'Let the girl go, or die.' The man laughed, and told the man to fuck off. Then, I heard the sound of the drawing of steel, then I heard a small thud, followed by an even heavier thud. The man who tore up my clothes then got up, he pulled a dagger from his waist, and told the man he had fucked up. He then screamed, and fell to the ground clutching the severed stump where his hand once was. Then I heard another sound, the sound of a mans throat being cut.

Summer: As I saw that man's body fall, dead upon the ground, I finally saw my saviour... It was just as I described him to the girls...

Summer: Dressd in full plate armour as white as bleached bones... Antique gold running around the trim of the armour, and filling in the cracks of their broken armour, fading off the white giving it's rusted hue. A long sword with a white blade, and golden antique pommel, and handguard, with a faded deep blue leather around the hilt. He wore a matching bone white cape with gold bleeding off of it that flapped in a calm breeze.

Summer: What stood out to me the most was it's helmet. It was a faceless, emotionless, and yet... I could feel an intense gaze, a silent rage, that held an absolute authority, and control over this situation.

Summer: I had heard stories, even heard rumors, but in that moment all of them were true. That the, Rusted Ghost, no... that the spirit of the, Rusted Knight was real.

Summer: One of the men that was holding me down let go, and charged at the, Rusted Knight. He fell after the brush of one swing of it's sword. The other two men let go of me, pulling out their knives, and charged him. The first one fell when a sword was thrusted through his chest, his body fell onto the ground the, Rusted Knights sword still buried in his chest.

Summer: The last man was grabbed by the throat, and hoisted into the air, turning his body around before slamming his body on the ground. He cried out in pain, and then in fear as the, Rusted knights armoured boot slammed down, crushing the mans skull into a pile paste...

Tai: He crushed his head with his foot?!

Qrow: Damn... talk about a brutal takedown...

Summer: The Rusted Knight's back was facing towards me when it did this, but I distinctly remember the sound, and the way the mans blood splashed about...

Summer: After this mans... execution. The Rusted Knight pulled out it's sword from the dead man's body, flicking the blood off it's blade before sheathing it. It walked over to me, and knelt down in front of me. I covered myself the best I could with my cloak to give myself a modicum of dignity.

Summer: His voice was so calming, even though it felt so cold... But, it said to me... 'Little girl in the white cloak... are you alright?'

Summer: I said I was fine. Well, mostly fine. I was almost rapped just then... But, the Rusted Knight asked if I could stand, and I did after I steadied my nerves. The Rusted Knight then said it would guide me back to the town. The Rusted Knight never spoke another word after that, and yet, despite this intimidating, and commanding aura that the, Rusted Knight had. I've never felt more safe with the, Rusted Knight than in all of my life.

Tai: What? I thought you felt safest in my arms?

Summer: Oh, don't be so jealous, Dear~! There is a difference in filling safe within your lovers arms, and a knight in shinning armour. Much less one of myth, and legend.

Tai: Still bet you feel safer with me... You feel safest in my arms don't you, Raven!

Raven: Are your arms my wife's arms?

Tai: N-No...?

Raven: There's your answer.

Tai: Ohh...

Qrow: Pff! Hahaha! Suck it, Tai! You're not your wife's knight in shinning armour!

Tai: Shut up...

Summer: Hahaha. Well, after we reached the edge of the forest to the village, the Rusted Knight stopped, and gestured towards the town. That this was as far as it would go. I saw my grandfather, and I ran towards. My grandfather saw me, and came running towards me, grabbing me, and then screaming at the residents of the town as he saw the condition of my clothing. I told my grandfather that despite my appearance I was fine, I told him that I was saved, saved by the spirit of the, Rusted Knight.

Summer: My grandfather said that was ridiculous, but as I pointed to the woods where I came from, the Rusted Knight was no longer there. And, while my grandfather didn't believe me about the whole, Rusted Knight bit, he was forced to believe that someone did save me when he found my would be rapists mangled corpses. After that we went home, and that's the end of my story.

Tai: Whoa... That's... That's a hell of a story...

Summer: You believe me?

Tai: Of course I do, we all do, right guys?

Raven: You're my wife, Summer. I know how good of a liar you are.

Qrow: Or, more correctly, how bad of a liar you are.

Summer: I'm not that bad! R-Right...?

TQR: Ahh-hahaha!

Raven: No, you're worse than that.

Summer: Hey!

Qrow: So, did anything happen after you were nearly... Uhh...?! A-After you met the spirit of the, Rusted Knight?

Summer: Well, I never strayed far from my grandfather, or my teammates after that. But, one day when I was on another mission with my grandfather. I saw this old lady at a shire, it was a shire dedicated to the, Rusted Knight. I told my story to the old lady about my encounter with the, Rusted Knight. She was one of the few people who believed my story about my encounter with the, Rusted Knight.

Tai: Did this old shrine lady believe in your story?

Summer: Yes. She was one of the few people to believe my story wholeheartedly. After that she gave me this charm.

Raven: Oh, so that's what that pendant you hang around your neck is.

Summer: Yep, it may be nothing more simple than a simple copy of the, Rusted knights helmet, which bares a striking resemblance to the real, Rusted Knight's helmet.

Qrow: Does it now?

Tai: It is a nice design...

Raven: So, it's a good luck charm of sorts?

Summer: It certainly is to me. I was wearing it when I was made team leader. I was wearing it when the three of us became a couple, I was wearing it when we got married, and when I gave birth to my adorable little rosebud! To me, this charm, meeting the, Rusted Knight has been the greatest possession I've ever been given. Well, second only to my wedding ring~!

Tai: Pff... Now you're just saying that to butter me up.

Summer: Is it working~?

Tai: ...

Tai: Yes...

Summer: Hehehe~!

Qrow: Well, looks like we got our scary ghost story after all...

Raven: I would have preferred a scary monster story than that. But, it's still a hell of a scary story...

Tai: I'll say...

Summer: Well, even after all that had happened, I still wish I could see the, Rusted Knight one more time. I never got to say thank you to him for saving me. I was so in shocked over everything that had happened that it never crossed my mind.

Tai: Wait, did you say, 'Him?'

Summer: Oh, yeah I did.

Tai: What makes you think that the, Rusted Knight was a guy?

Summer: W-Well... The body's shape, and the voice were certainly a mans voice. But, what mostly stood out to me was the, Rusted Knight's eyes...

Qrow: Eyes? The Rusted Knight has eyes?

Raven: And, you saw them?

Summer: I did. When the, Rusted Knight knelt before me, he was at eye level with me. I saw the most beautiful blue eyes~! They were a deep cerulean blue that glowed with an ethereal beauty that was captivating to behold... I fell in love with men having blue eyes that day onward~!

Tai: Oh, so that's why you fell in love with me, because I have blue eyes?!

Qrow: Damn talk about being jealous.

Raven: Even I'm a little jealous... Oh well, maybe there is still a chance you'll see the, Rusted Knight in the future, Summer. In one way, or another.

Summer: One way, or another? What do you mean by that?

Raven: One of the stories we were told is that the, Rusted Knight exists on a whole different plane of reality.

Summer: Wha...?

Raven: They say that, Rusted Knight existence is on a whole different plane then ours. Sometimes they appear as a child, an old man, or the knight we all know. They say as a child the spirit of the, Rusted Knight brings joy, and happiness. The old man brings wisdom, and knowledge to those in need. And, the Rusted Knight is the warrior that protects all those that are in need. They say that there are even more forms than that.

Qrow: Yeah, I've heard a story that, Rusted Knight is a spirit that reincarnates into a new body every generation. So who knows, you may meet your, Rusted Knight in another way in the future.

Summer: Oh well, considering the circumstance under how I first met the, Rusted Knight, I would prefer that's how I meet them again.

Qrow: I'll say...

Tai: Well, if by some miracle you do meet again, do let us know how it went.

Summer: Will do. Now then, let's all head to bed, It's getting late, and the girls have school in the morning.

Qrow: Damn... I'd like to stay up more, and chat. But, Sunny's right, we best get to bed. Dealing with the girls antics is already hard enough with a hangover. I don't want to imagine dealing with them when I'm also sleep deprived...

Raven: Now that sounds like a nightmare, and a half.

Tai: Well, you heard the little lady: Off to bed everyone!

Qrow: Sweet dreams guys. And, Summer, don't dream too much about knights in rusty armour saving you. You don't want your husband, and wife getting jealous now do you?

Summer: I don't have that many dreams about the, Rusted Knight saving me!

TR: Say what now...?

Summer: Uh oh...

~~~

Years Later

~~~

Summer: Now then... Where are our girls?

Raven: This place hasn't changed much since we attended, Beacon.

Summer: Considering, Ozpin is as stagnated as a mountain, it's not a surprise it hasn't changed.

Raven: There's certainly a lot of people here. I didn't know that many people came for parent visiting day.

Summer: That's only because you, and Qrow hid in our dorm room because you don't have any parents to visit you

Raven: Oh shush you! Now then, let's go find our ki...?!

: Mommmm!

Summer: Hmm? Ooph?!

: Mom! It's so good to see you!

Summer: Ow... Oh, Ruby? Oh it's good to see you too my little girl~! You've gotten stronger, you nearly knocked me down with your semblance.

Ruby: I've been training really hard! Me, and my teammates are doing really good!

Summer: Oh, and where are your fellow teammates?

Ruby: Oh, well, my partner's older sister came today so she's spending time with her big sis. Yang's partners mother came by so she's speaking with her.

Raven: Speaking of, where is my little brat?

Ruby: Oh, she's talking with her partners mom, getting gossip so she can tease her with later. They're in the cafeteria.

Raven: Ahh, that's my girl. Now then, I'll go see what my little brat is up to. I'll see you girls later.

Summer: So, besides your teammates have you made any other friends?

Ruby: Oh, yeah I have! I've made friends with a fellow team, Team JNPR! I'm especially close with their team leader! His name is, Jaune Arc!

Summer: Oh, how close are you two? Can I expect him to visit us all at home any time soon?

Ruby: Mom?! I'm not... We're not like that! Besides... his partner already has dibs on him...

Summer: Oh~? Well, maybe you can share him, just like your mom, and Raven.

Ruby: Mom?!

Summer: Ah-hahahaha!

Ruby: Ohhh!

Ruby: Hmmm? Oh there's dad! DADDDDD!

Summer: Whoo?! My, she’s gotten faster! Well, I'm glad to see she's enjoying herself here.

: Hmmm? You look like an older, Ruby. Are you perhaps, Ruby's mother, Summer?

Summer: Hmm? Why yes, I am. My name is Summer Rose who are... you...?

: Hello! I'm a friend of, Ruby's. My name is, Jaune Arc! It's a pleasure to meet you!

Summer: L-Like wise...? White armour... A longsword with a golden guard, and pommel wrapped in blue leather... And, glowing deep cerulean blue eyes...

Jaune: Is something wrong, Mrs. Rose?

Summer: N-N-No! Nothing's wrong, it's just... your armour, and weapon... It looked similar to someone I knew...

Jaune: Oh really? Anyone I'd know?

Summer: Not likely. The person I knew existed long before my daughter, or you were born.

Jaune: Oh, that's a shame. Ahh well, if there's nothing to be done about it, then that's that.

Summer: Did... Did anyone ever tell you that your eyes... That your eyes seem to glow?

Jaune: A few people have actually. I just think I have bright blue eyes that just makes them look shiny.

Summer: Ohh... that makes sense... Hmm? Oh, your bracer, was it broken?

Jaune: Hmm? Oh yeah, it was broken. Well, cracked would be a more appropriate description. My fellow classmate, a brute with a large war hammer crashed down on my bracer during a training bout, cracking it. But, as you can see, I repaired it.

Summer: But, how did you repair it? Normally when you repair armour that's been cracked you reforge it, right?

Jaune: Normally yes. But, my ancestor learned about this technique in, Mantle called, Kintsugi. It's usually used to repair broken pottery, and the like. But, my ancestor figured out a way to use it to repair armour, and weapons. Despite how it looks, it actually makes my gear stronger than it originally was.

Summer: Oh my, that's an interesting technique, I would love to learn it.

Jaune: Sorry, I'm afraid I can't tell you, Mrs. Rose. It is a family secret after all.

Summer: Then perhaps you could marry one of my daughters, and have one of them tell me?

Jaune: I doubt that would work. Ruby is more likely to ask me to marry her for my families chocolate chip cookie recipe.

Summer: Ah-haha~! Now that sounds like my little girl.

Jaune: Yeah, a lot of our bets are, Ruby demanding cookies from me. I'm getting a little tired of baking cookies, but it's not as bad as my teammates pancake obsession, so I'll take what I can get.

Summer: Well, there's always that one teammates with food obsession. My husband has this strange obsession with pickles.

Jaune: Pickles? Never really cared for them myself, but to each their own.

Summer: Yes, that how things...?!

Tai: Qrow?! No picking fights with the, Schnee girl!

Raven: Fuck her up little bro!

Summer: Haa... I best get going, the last thing I want is my teammates being called to the principles office, especially since we've all graduated.

Jaune: That'd certainly be funny as hell though.

Summer: Yeah it would be... Well, I best get going, it was a pleasure talking to you, Mr. Arc.

Jaune: It was my pleasure...

Summer: Okay what are they up...?!

Jaune: Little girl in the white cloak.

Summer: Wait, WHAT?!

Summer: How do you know that... Name...?

Summer: ...

Summer: What...? Where did he...?

Ruby: Mom! Come quick! Uncle Qrow is tearing up the courtyard fighting my teammates big sister! You got to stop him!

Summer: What, but... Where did, Jaune go?!

Ruby: Oh you were talking to, Jaune?

Summer: Yeah, he was just here. But, I turned my back to him, and he was just disappeared...

Ruby: Oh yeah, Jaune does that sometime. Honestly I think it's his semblance, or something.

Summer: D-Do you think I could talk to him again?

Ruby: Yeah, sure! But, why do you want to do that?

Summer: I just... I just wanted to say thank you...

[tadpolesonalgae]

I'd assume it was unwanted?

Azriel x reader

a/n: something short, because I've been tired lately (a total of 130 hours worked over a fortnight)

warnings: like, the tiniest smidge of angst; some Azriel fluff ;)

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

"So, how has it been going?"

Your brows furrow slightly, glancing at him confusedly, before a bright grin explodes across your mouth, bringing a twinkle to your mate's eyes. "Someone took one!!" You exclaim, jumping up and down, lightly patting your hands together as that warm and bubbly feeling swooshes through your body, heart soaring with pride. "I checked the basket this morning and the beetle scarf had been taken!"

Azriel smiles, one of those smiles you know he can't help, wrapping his arms around you tight. You allow him to for a few moments, before wriggling free and shoving your hand into your pocket, fishing about for a bit before pulling free a folded note. Your eyes are still bright and crinkled at the edges as you show it to him.

Winter will be a little easier now.

Thank you for the scarf.

Azriel's features soften as his eyes run across the handwritten note, pulling you close once more, lips grazing the crown of your head. You squeeze him back, inhaling the warm scent of him, pulling him down in lungfuls and trying to keep from jumping with joy.

You pull away firmly, a big smile on your face as you pluck the note from his fingers. "I'm going to work on the next one," you tell him, softly, "Can you handle dinner? I want to try and finish this one off tonight."

"As long as you remember to get up and stretch," Azriel returns, equally hushed, pressing a kiss to your brow. "And you have to promise to pay attention to me over supper. I know you enjoy knitting but I miss you sometimes, okay?"

You smile, pressing into his warmth. "I will," you whisper, pushing up onto your tiptoes to kiss his soft mouth, nipping once at his lower lip before pulling away. Azriel chuckles, squeezing your waist before releasing you, watching fondly as you patter away toward the living room where you'll take up your knitting needles and nestle yourself into the indentation he's made in one of the armchairs a distance from the fireplace.

He's happy you've found something to focus yourself on, at least for a little while.

He knows how loud your mind can get, when not preoccupied.

--------

"Have you stretched even once today?"

You start, blinking up from your knitting needles, apparently having not heard him enter.

He sighs, guessing the answer will not be what he's hoping for.

"Come on," Azriel encourages, moving over to where you're seated, holding out his palms. "We're going for a walk. Up you get."

You pull a face. "I just need to do a few more rows...? Then I'll be done...!"

Azriel raises a brow, "How many more?" Your lips purse, averting your eyes, huddling deeper into the armchair. The edges of his mouth pull upwards, shaking his head. "Come on, you know you need to stretch. Have you been doing this all day?"

"But I want to get as many done as possible," you grumble, getting to your feet and carefully setting aside your knitting. "It's coming up for winter, and I feel like I'll be better able to speak with other people if I have this going for me..."

"And taking a few hours a day to stretch and keep your blood flowing won't hinder that," Azriel assures, voice lowered as his hands wrap themselves cosily around your waist. "So come out with me, and keep yourself in good health."

You roll your eyes, but hurry to get ready. You can check the community basket outside your house on the way out. See if anymore notes have appeared since the first one from a week ago.

--------

Frost has begun swirling itself onto leaves in the mornings, etching its pretty patterns into the window panes, setting the puddles of water that gather in the uneven pathways that join the streets.

You know things have been difficult in this town, and people are working hard to rebuilt what was lost. Helping each other out when they can, coming together to share joy, keeping each other afloat. More than ever it's needed, as winter looms ahead.

How badly you want to be a part of that community.

--------

The notes have been dwindling, but that's to be expected as winter melts into spring, and spring into summer. They're always a joy to receive, and you keep them in a small box by your bedside, a separate, smaller compartment for the notes left by Cassian, who tried to alter his handwriting so you wouldn't know it was him. You appreciate the effort, and you know he means well - you'd undoubtedly do the same if it was any of the others; it's important to support friends and family - but it would be nice to hear from other people in the community you're trying to integrate yourself into.

People aren't in need of jumpers and scarves as much in the warmer months, but still, you want to have enough in when the frost returns. You know how much you enjoy the fresh mince pies the baker sometimes has out at the end of a day - Azriel doesn't enjoy sugar as much as you, so you'll end up taking one and offering him a bite, which he usually accepts. And you know how happy the baker is whenever you thank her for sharing the ones she hasn't managed to sell that day, so they aren't wasted.

At the new year, Azriel had mentioned a small gathering that took place in the local temple on the seventh day of the week. A day for crafts and creation, for anyone to join.

At first you'd been nervous to attend, but it had been that group that had suggested placing a box, pad, and pencil out for anyone who might want to leave a note. Some people might be too anxious otherwise, one had reasoned, and you'd noticed a little change at first, but sure enough after a while the scarves would continue disappearing without a note left behind for you to know if they'd been a help or not.

It's become a routine by this point: knitting in the afternoons and evenings, taking a walk around the village with Azriel, then returning back to eat, and promptly falling into bed, lights out. And in the evenings when Azriel is feeling more relaxed, he'll accompany you in the living room, signing papers and jotting down notes in his diary while you keep tucked to your armchair, needles clicking occasionally as you continue winding the yarn into warm, colourful patterns.

You sever the yarn, tying off that final row, and slowly get to your feet, knees making a clicking noise as you stiffly make your way across the room to Azriel, holding out the child-sized blanket you've finally completed after a fortnight of work. Your eyes are drooping, knuckles stiff and achey, but you hold it up for him to look at, smiling brightly. "What do you think?"

Azriel sets his work aside, that familiar smile curving his soft mouth as he takes a look at the patterns, the even spread of the stitches, tension carefully measured. All the hours of work put into creation. "It's lovely," he murmurs, slowly making his way down the blanket, taking his time with each pattern, occasionally turning the knit over to have a look at the flip side. "You're sure you want to give this one up? It's so beautiful."

You laugh, "what would either of us need it for? It's far too small." You seat yourself on the arm of his chair, hand settling on his shoulder. "I'll miss it a little, though." You whisper, leaning into him as you look at the blanket. "I've never tried doing so many patterns in one piece. Usually scarves I just repeat the same ones - this is the first time I've done so many alternations."

"You think it's one of your best?" Azriel murmurs, glancing up at you.

"Definitely." You smile, nodding. "It's going to keep someone very warm, this winter."

--------

There's no note, and it's gone.

Teeth prod at the interior of your lower lip, shoulders sloping a little.

It had been your best work so far.

You heave a sigh - neither you nor Azriel would have any use for it, you remind yourself. It's good that someone else has it now, hopefully keeping a little loved one warm. Warding the cold nights away.

You take the pencil in your hand, but the point is still sharp. Still fine for use. And the pad is still full, at least a few dozen thin sheets of note paper left beside the empty, open basket.

You don't knit that day, deciding to give yourself some rest, taking Azriel's place in the armchair and huddling down until he's finished with work. Inhaling the remnants of his scent from where they're clinging to the fibres of the fabric.

The hours fly by, then a familiar palm is resting on your shoulder, guiding you back to consciousness. His scent is much more concentrated now he's near, and you take a deep inhale of him, arms lethargically wrapping around his neck. A chuckle tickles your throat, then his own arms are sweeping beneath you, pulling you from the comfy chair and into his comfier lap. "Ready to walk?" He murmurs, fingers grazing your hair, playfully stroking patterns down your back while his shadows weave between your fingers, tentatively roaming over you, making their analyses of the day, checking your state.

"Is it time for a walk already?" You mumble through a yawn, shifting closer to him, greedily taking down as much of his heat as you can. "It was morning just a few minutes ago..."

"You're going to be awake all night if you don't expend some energy," Azriel chuckles, getting the both of you to your feet, guiding you to the front door.

It's already fairly dark by the time you're outdoors, a cool breeze skittering up your sleeves, making you shiver. Azriel notices, pulling you closer, "think you can make the ribbing a little tighter? The wind will be kept out then." You hum noncommittally, not particularly stirred by the option, just hugging your scarf tighter.

There are still quite a few people out, and you can't really help the way your eyes stray, hopefully searching for a familiar pattern, or series of colours.

Maybe you should take a break from knitting for a while. Give yourself some time to rest in the evenings once you're finished working, instead of trying to relax yourself with a different form of work.

Hobbies are supposed to be fun.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

standing ovation | chaos fc

summary: monkey scores a goal to qualify england for the euros in 2025 in switzerland and decides to celebrate with the fans much to leahs' disagreement about it not being safe

chaos fc masterlist

"This is it. This is the game, let's 'ave it!" You're bouncing with energy as you exit the bus, arriving outside the stadium in Sweden, ahead of the game tonight.

It's an important game, it will be the one to decide whether your team will qualify for the Euros, or not.

You're beyond excited about it!

"Bet you a tenner you'll score the goal for us to win," Grace chimes in, appearing off the bus behind you.

"Pfft, easy money," Your confident, fauxing to wipe dust off your shoulders, "Prepare to hand over your money, Clinton Cards!"

"Alright, that'll do. Come on, inside and stop winding everyone up," Leah ushers you inside with her hand, "Got your boots and everything?"

You faux a distressed expression, "Oh, damn it..."

"Monkey," Leah groans.

"Ha, gotcha!" You replace your weary look with a mischievous smirk.

Leah swats your shoulder, "You little..."

"Swear jar!" You chime in, continuing to grin cheekily, "You swear and you have to put money in, remember?"

"Even when Buddy's not here, I'm still being reminded about that bloody jar," Leah huffs, shaking her head as she proceeds to get the music ready for the changing room, taking the job as team DJ very seriously.

"Swear jar," You repeat, mischievously, "Don't worry, I can always put the money in me pocket for now for safe keepin' if you'd like?"

"Come on. Get in!" You scream aloud, flailing your arms up in the air in celebration, "Ave' it!"

The roar of the crowd is deafening as you slot the ball past the keeper and into the net. It's an absolute stunner of a goal, the kind that will make the highlight reel for years to come.

The stadium erupts, the fans screaming themselves hoarse as the announcer confirms it.

You have scored the goal that has officially qualified England for the 2025 Euros.

It feels like a true dream come true.

You were already running toward the stands with your arms outstretched, your grin brighter than the floodlights overhead.

"Monkey! Don't even think about it," Leah's voice cut through the noise, sharp and commanding, but it fell on deaf ears -- You are too wrapped up in the moment to take notice of her words.

Before anyone can stop you, you vault over the barrier, straight into the crowd of jubilant England fans. They all surge towards you, a chaotic wave of hands and flags and chants of your name.

No matter how much you hate your biological name, for the moment you are too buzzing to care about it.

You were lost in a sea of people, your jersey being pulled and tousled as you basked in their adoration.

Leah is on her feet in an instant, shoving past all her teammates on the bench, "What on earth is she playing at?" She mutters, storming ahead of the chaos.

Her own heart is pounding, not from pride but from pure, unfiltered panic.

"That little menace. She's going to get herself killed," Leah speaks aloud to one of her teammates, none in particular.

It takes several stewards to untangle you from the crowd and guide her back toward the pitch, your cheeks are flushed with exhilaration and your hair is a mess. You're practically glowing as you jogged back, waving to the fans one last time.

Leah's waiting for her on the sideline, arms crossed, her expression thunderous.

"Hi, Mum," You chirp, flashing Leah a cheeky grin as your voice drips with faux innocence.

Leah, however, didn't say a word. Instead, she reaches her hand out and clips her around the ear--not hard, but enough to make a point.

"Ow," You yelp, rubbing the spot with a pout, "What was that for?"

"What the hell were you thinking?" Leah barks in disbelief, crossing her arms over her chest, "You scared the life out of me then! You can't just jump in a crowd like that. Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? You... You could have been killed!"

"Well, I think that might be a tad dramatic," You defend with hand gestures, "I was only celebratin'. Did you see me goal? It was epic!"

"Yeah, it was fantastic, Menace, but you running into the crowd like that-- You could have been seriously injured!" Leah's own pride was shadowed by her panic and fear for your safety, "You need to seriously think before doin' something like that, alright?"

You shuffle on your feet, the adrenaline of the moment giving way to sheepish guilt, "M' sorry, Mum... I didn't think."

Leah sighs, her anger softening as she pulls you into a brief, firm hug, "Just don't do it again, alright? You really scared me then."

"Gotcha," You mumble against Leah's shoulder, not wasting the time to speak again, "But you gotta admit, it was a really sick goal, wasn't it, Le?"

Leah huffs a reluctant laugh, ruffling your hair, "Yeah, it was a pretty sick goal, my girl," She agrees, "Maybe next time, you can celebrate a little less chaotically, yeah?"

You reply with a cheeky grin, "Ye' course, but no promises." Pulling away, your eyes scan around the stadium, "Aye, Clinton Cards! You owe me a tenner, remember? Cough up!"

Grace loudly from where she’s still celebrating with the rest of the team, “You actually scored the winner?! You jammy little–”

“Swear jar!” You cut in before she can finish, pointing at her smugly.

“Urgh,” Grace rolls her eyes, reluctantly digging into her pocket and pulling out a ten-pound note, “You’re unbearable sometimes, you know that?” She grumbles, shoving it into your hand.

“Cheers mate,” You say, tucking it safely in your sock for now, “That’s going towards my Haribo stash.”

“Absolutely not,” Leah chimes in, shaking her head at you before wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “Come on, Menace, we’ve got press to do before you can start robbing everyone blind.”

The adrenaline is still buzzing in your veins as you walk back toward the changing rooms, soaking in every bit of the moment. Fans are still chanting outside, and you can hear your name mixed in with the noise.

Leah keeps you close, her protective instincts still on high alert after your little stunt, “You’re not doing post-match alone,” She tells you firmly.

“Awh, shucks. Seriously? I was planning to tell them about the belter of a goal I scored!” You reply, still grinning from ear to ear, “You have to tell them how good it was!”

Leah huffs and rolls her eyes teasingly, “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, I’ll make sure everyone knows how little menace is a star.”

You’re lad into the post-match interview room alongside Leah and Sarina, the space packed with reporters, and your eyes widen slightly, “Geesh, this is a lot of reporters in one room, ain’t it?”

That one earns a round of laughter from the reporters. You feel proud of that one.

“Kid! Congratulations on the goal!” One of them shouts in your direction.

You blush bashfully, “Aw, thanks. You guys just keepin’ me humble as ever— Where do I sit?”

“Over here, next to me,” Leah points to the seat beside her.

“Gotcha! Oo, these seats are comfy,” It’s a comment that earns another chuckle from several of the reporters before they fire away with the questions while you glance at Leah, nudging her, “Hey, Le. You know that scene in Ted Lasso? It feels just like that, right?”

“Just sit down, Monkey,” Leah sighs, though there’s a hint of amusement in her voice.

You do, but after a while, the words start blending together. You end up tuning out completely–until someone directs a question at you.

“Huh? Sorry, I wasn’t listening then…” You admit, sheepishly.

The reporter cracks an amused smile, “How are you feeling about scoring the goal that qualified England for the Euros?”

“Oh, uhm, well I’m absolutely buzzin’, to be honest! Best night of my life, and also…” You pause, reaching into your sock to pull out a crumpled tenner, “Clinton Cards–aka Grace Clinton, obviously–owed me a tenner, so I’m quids in! Bloody brilliant!”

Leah groans, shaking her head, “Monkey!”

Your eyes widen in realisation, “Oh, shit, I’m not allowed to swear am I?”

“Monkey!” Leah shoots you a firm look.

“Oh, right… Yeah, I just did it again, didn’t I?” You flash a sheepish grin directly into the camera.

The interviewer chuckles. “Well, congratulations again. I’m sure England fans everywhere will be celebrating this win tonight!”

“Cheers, mate!” You beam, proud of yourself.

A member of England’s staff steps forward, “I think that concludes the post-match interview for now. Thanks, everyone.”

As you saunter back toward the changing rooms, you shoot Leah a smug smile, “I rocked that interview, didn’t I?”

“You certainly did,” Leah chuckles, shaking her head as she guides you along, “Mind you, next time maybe avoid swearing on live TV?”

“I couldn’t help it, I was ecstatic!” You exclaim.

“Now you owe money to the swear jar,” Leah teases, ruffling your hair.

“Oh for fu…fudge sakes,” You correct yourself just in time.

Leah smirks, “That was a close one then.”

“Phew, I nearly lost out on the money I made,” You comment, pretending to wipe the traces of sweat off your forehead.

When you step into the changing room, the team erupts into cheers, showering you with water bottles and clapping you on the back.

“Here’s our little superstar!” Ella shouts.

“Who’re you callin’ little? I’m almost as tall as you!” You insist before attempting to try and square up to her.

“You absolute legend, kid!” Georgia cackles, “That goal was insane, but what the hell were you thinking diving into the crowd like that?”

You shrug carelessly, “It was a moment of passion, I guess. I thought the fans would like it!”

“Maybe next time, don’t nearly give Leah a heart attack, yeah?” Millie smirks, nodding towards the blonde, who is still very much watching you like a hawk.

Leah sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “She’s lucky I love her so much, that’s all I’m sayin’ but I’m bound to have grey hairs before I turn 30 at this rate.”

You flash her your best innocent smile before plopping down on the bench, basking in the moment as your teammates continue to celebrate around you.

“You’re not tired already are you?” Keira chuckles, nudging you playfully.

“It’s hard work bein’ the hero,” You sigh dramatically, stretching out across the bench, “Can’t lie, I’m knackered.”

“What? As if!” Keira scoffed, shaking her head.

“Come on, get up and dance, kid!” Lucy encourages, leaving you with no choice but to get up and join in the celebrations, “It’s not every day you score the goal to qualify us for the Euros! Make the most of it!”

The celebrations are still in full swing–you’ve already danced around the changing room, celebrated with the team, and made sure to rub it in Grace’s face that she owed you that tenner.

But there’s still one thing missing. One person missing that you need to see.

Leah has barely let you out of her sight since The Incident, keeping you within arm’s reach at all times. But the moment she gets caught up talking to Sarina, you see your chance to escape.

Without hesitation, you dart off, weaving through the tunnel and making a beeline for the pitch.

“Whoa, Monkey!” Leah’s panicked voice echoes behind you, “Menace! Where are you goin’? Come back here!” Her footsteps pound against the ground as she takes off after you.

You don’t even bother to look back, just wave a hand over your shoulder, “Relax, Le. It’s fine. I’m only goin’ to get Buddy!”

Leah stumbles to a stop, exhaling sharply before groaning in exasperation, “You’re such a menace, I swear to God,” She mutters, rubbing a hand over her face before jogging after you.

As you reach the stands, you immediately spot Buddy, curled up on Jacob’s lap with her head resting against his shoulder, her tiny hands wrapped securely around his neck.

“Guess who,” You tease, crouching behind her chair with a grin.

Buddy sleepily lifts her head, blinking blearily before gasping dramatically, “Monkey!” Her exhaustion vanishes in an instant, replaced by pure excitement, “Ou’re ‘ere!”

“I am, I’ve missed you, Buddy!” Without hesitation, you scoop your favourite little sidekick into your arms, holding her close, “Did you see my goal?”

“Ou’ scored, Monkey!” Buddy exclaims, eyes wide with admiration.

“I did! Proper pocket-rocket, weren’t it?” You grin, ruffling her hair.

“We also saw you running into the stands,” Amanda chimes in, raising a knowing eyebrow.

“Oh, I bet Leah had a field day trying to get you out of there,” Jacob adds with a smirk.

“I wasn’t impressed, believe me,” Leah huffs, finally catching up, still looking slightly frazzled.

“Mummy!” Buddy wriggles in your arms, reaching out with grabby hands, “Mummy! Mummy!”

“Traitor,” You mumble, narrowing your eyes playfully at your favourite little buddy.

Leah’s frustration melts away in an instant as she scoops Buddy into her arms, “Hi, my Bubba,” She murmurs, pressing a kiss to Buddy’s temple, “Oh, am I happy to see you!”

“Oh, and here’s the buzz kill,” You joke, earning a snicker from Jacob.

“Oi, watch it, you,” Leah warns, though there’s no real heat behind her words as she adjusts Buddy on her hip, “You’re lucky you didn’t get hurt pulling a stunt like that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” You wave her off with a grin, “But it was fun though!”

Leah shoots you a disapproving look before turning her attention back to Buddy, “Did you like the game, Bubba?”

Buddy nods furiously, curling her little fingers into Leah’s shirt, “Mummy, ‘ou did an okay job out there,” She informs her seriously.

Leah fauxes a playful gasp, “Just okay?”

“Uh-huh. Monks’ did better. She scored!” Buddy insists, nodding decisively.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Leah hums before launching a tickle attack.

Buddy shrieks with laughter, squirming in her arms, “N… No, Mummy! Stop–I… Ou’ did a good job too!”

Leah grins, finally letting up, “That’s what I thought.”

You lean against the railing, smirking, “See? Even Buddy agrees–I’m the real MVP tonight.”

Leah rolls her eyes but pulls you into a side hug anyway, “Yeah, yeah, Monkey. Just try not to give me a heart attack next time, alright?”

“No promises,” You chirp, flashing her a cheeky grin.

Leah groans while Buddy, ever the little echo, claps her hands and shouts, “No promises!”

You snort, ruffling your favourite little buddy’s curls. “That’s my girl, Buddy,” You grin before pulling out your phone, “Whoa, check it out–I’m trending on Twitter!” 

© scribblesofagoonerr

[woncheolisms]

gentle. (aone takanobu x reader)

summary: he’s not the same with you as he is with everyone else

word count: 1,399

warnings: swearing, but pretty fluffy otherwise, fem!reader, high school setting

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

this is written for @honeybleed’s Underrated Character event! I had so much fun writing this because it’s the perfect opportunity to give love to our blorbo aone (he deserves the world).

After Date Tech's loss to Seijoh at the Inter High preliminaries, you didn't know what exactly to do with yourself.

You had been managing the team since your first year. The previous manager hadn't really stayed to show you the ropes, and you had to learn everything from scratch. You had often felt lost and disoriented, and it felt like you were drowning as the novice team built themselves slowly but surely.

You truly felt that this time around, Date Tech's Iron Wall would be strong enough to get you all to Nationals. Now, not only did you have to stomach that loss, you had to deal with the fact that your precious third years were leaving.

You felt like you were drowning all over again, like you had back in your very first week with the team. Like you had no clue what to do. As you sat on the steps outside the volleyball gym on campus, you contemplated your next move. How the team would operate with Futakuchi as the new Captain. How you all had to somehow hone the talent in your inexperienced new setter, Koganegawa. It all seemed like too much work. How were you supposed to manage it all?

You nearly jumped out of your skin when something moved in your peripheral vision and you realized it was Aone, sitting on the steps next to you. When had he gotten here?

"You scared me!" You breathed, laughing a bit. It was almost comical how someone as huge and imposing as Aone could somehow make himself so invisible. But considering how quiet he was, it wasn't surprising to you.

Aone didn't react to your words, but his stare was intense on your face, eyeing you closely before he reached a finger out to poke at the skin under your eyes. Oh.

You felt your face heat a little at his touch, but you gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Aone. Just a little tired."

It seemed like he didn't believe you, the scowl between his eyebrows only deepening. You fidgeted a bit.

From your very first day managing Date Tech's volleyball club, you had had a soft spot for Aone Takanobu. He was, by all means, a scary looking dude. Taller than any boy you knew, and built like a brick wall. Despite his massive size, he was agile too, a very scary combination. Silver hair, a deep scowl that always seemed to twist his face (you later realized that he wasn't scowling, it was just the lack of eyebrows that made it appear so). It was no wonder people tiptoed around him.

But two years on the same team, spending every day together, meant that you knew Aone in ways that his audience did not. His personality was anything but scary. He was as docile as they came, and slowly but surely, you felt yourself drawn to his quiet disposition. In the storm that came with Futakuchi constantly butting heads with your third years, Aone was the silent bubble you found comfort in. He knew you inside out, and he was perceptive. Like right now, pointing out the dark circles under your eyes with an uncharacteristically gentle touch.

No wonder you had an embarrassing crush on him.

He kept an intense stare on you, his way of insisting there was something wrong. You shook your head again, sighing. You knew he wouldn't let this go. So you let yourself vent, letting out every dark and uncertain emotion inside you.

You ranted about everything that was plaguing your mind, body turned towards Aone but curled into yourself. You pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them to curl into yourself as you spoke, looking up at the boy next to you every now and then.

Aone did not interrupt. He never interrupted. He let you go on and on about how you didn't think Futakuchi was mature enough to lead a team, or how Koganegawa was nowhere near ready to stand on a court. All your doubts were spilled out into the air surrounding you, welcomed by Aone as he sat and listened to everything you had to say. His eyes did not leave you once, but he didn’t react in any other way.

"Sometimes I think you are the only thing holding the Iron Wall together." You gave him a little smile. "And I don't know how you do it."

When you finally finished, silence stretched between the two of you, as if everything around you was absorbing your words. You watched Aone, waiting for him to lean towards you and nod encouragingly, like he did whenever you had one of these ranting sessions.

"I do it because of you."

Your eyes widened, not expecting that he would speak. You knew Aone, and you knew he wasn’t a talker. He loathed having to voice anything because he felt like he didn’t have anything to say which wasn’t already understood. His voice was hoarse and deep, making your breath catch.

"Do what?" You asked, not understanding his words.

"You said I hold the Iron Wall together." He continued, and you basked in the sound of his voice. It was so rare for him to say anything. You wanted to savor it while it lasted.

"I do it because of you. I see how hard you work for this team. And it makes me work hard too. For you."

Your heart was beating a mile a minute, trying to catch up to his words and process them. You felt like your entire face was on fire, your breath stuttering. Aone did not look at you, instead staring at the ground before him. Your eyes caught his porcelain pale skin, eyeing how the back of his neck flushed red. The sight made you giddy.

"Aone…." You breathed, feeling truly speechless. Which wasn't like you at all. Between the two of you, you talked and Aone listened. For the first time, the roles were reversed.

Aone shifted a bit, still not looking at you. "Don't worry too much. You will figure it out like you always do. And I'll be here for you."

His sentences were simple. Yet to you, it felt like he was waxing poetic. You couldn't help your wide smile, shuffling closer to Aone and placing your head on his shoulder. You felt infinitely lighter, like all of what you were worried about didn’t matter at all when Aone was right there with you.

"Thank you." You whispered.

You felt Aone nudge at you gently, his way of saying 'you're welcome'. You let yourself bask in his touch, cheek pressed to his bicep, feeling how your heart pounded in your chest.

Multiple steps sounded on the ground, and then a sharp voice broke through the silence.

"You lovebirds done? Come on, let's get pork buns and then head home. I'm hungry!"

You sighed and rolled your eyes, pulling away from Aone to glare at Futakuchi, who was standing a few feet away while the team lingered behind him. They had all changed out of their sweaty practice clothes, bags slung over their shoulders and ready to leave. You saw Koganegawa peek at you from behind him, his mouth open comically wide.

"Eh? I didn't know our manager and Aone-san were dating!"

Before you could protest, Aone was lumbering onto his feet and grabbing your hand, pulling you up with him. His giant hand enveloped yours completely (you were giddy as you observed this fact), and he didn't let go as he walked past Futakuchi, who had an annoyingly smug grin on his face. You knew you wouldn't hear the end of this.

"Yeah, stay away from her, Kogane!" He called, being obnoxiously loud on purpose. He was definitely trying to goad you two, as was his nature. "You don't wanna know how pissy Aone gets when other guys flirt with her."

Your eyes widened, looking up at the boy in question. Aone pointedly looked away from you, but his grip on your hand tightened, and you could see the same blush creep up his neck and to his ears.

You grinned all the way to the convenience store, and then all the way home too, basking in the new information Futakuchi had spilled, as well as the tight grip Aone had on your hand.

He didn't let go even once.

[amyzworldds]

hi how are you? I would like to ask if you could write about svt x 14th member like she after an accident (for example) fell into a coma and came to her senses after some time and no one knew about it except for a few people and during the opening of the world tour she effectively appears on stage during the performance of her part and like this surprised the whole world? and the members themselves on stage

I hope I wrote everything clearly (I just used a translator)

Title: Shattered Roads

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3

Y/N’s solo debut prep silences Seventeen’s dorm, the boys clinging to her cardboard cutout—until a devastating car accident lands her in a coma. Torn between tour duties and despair, they rally for her recovery. Pairing: Seventeen x 14th member Genre: Fluff, Humor

Seventeen had been a ghost town without Y/N. She was still their wild 14th member, but lately, she’d been swallowed by her solo debut prep—a five-song album with one music videos, a whirlwind of late-night recording sessions and choreography plotting. She’d been gone from the dorm for months, only popping in past midnight, a blurry shadow crashing into her room before anyone could catch her. The last song was in the can, and tomorrow, she’d start filming her first MV. But at the dorm? Chaos was on life support without her.

The living room was a scene straight out of a melodrama. DK sat cross-legged beside Y/N’s life-sized cardboard standee—still sporting its smug photoshoot grin—clutching a tissue and fake-sobbing like he’d lost his soulmate. “Hyung, now I get it!” he wailed, throwing an arm around the cutout. “She got this thing so we wouldn’t miss her, but I miss her so much it hurts! Look at me, talking to cardboard like a loser!” Tears (mostly imaginary) streamed down his face as he hugged the standee, rocking back and forth.

Hoshi stumbled in, eyes red from his own fake crying, and dove onto DK, wrapping him in a bear hug. “She’s gone, DK! Gone forever!” he howled, shaking DK like they were in a tragic K-drama. “All we’ve got is this flat Y/N! She’s not even 3D anymore! I can’t hear her yelling at me for leaving my socks on the couch—or see her jumping around like a deranged opera star! I’m in withdrawal!” He flopped onto the floor, clutching DK’s leg, while the standee stared blankly at their meltdown.

The dorm had been too quiet without her chaos. No Y/N screeching, “Vernon, your dishes are a biohazard—clean them!” No off-key belting of random ballads while she spun around the kitchen like a tornado. No dragging Dino into tiktok trends at 3 am or forcing Seungkwan to play the villain in her unhinged mini-dramas (complete with bad wigs she’d ordered online). They’d only catch glimpses of her during group schedules—her laughing with staff, then vanishing—or hear her stumble in late, too tired to cause trouble. The silence was deafening, and they were losing it.

Woozi lounged on the couch, smirking like a smug cat who’d caught the canary. He’d been Y/N’s shadow through her album prep—co-writing, producing, guiding her every step. “You guys are pathetic,” he said, arms crossed, grin wicked. “Me? I’ve been with her the whole time. Heard every note, fixed every lyric. You’re crying over cardboard while I’m living the dream.”

Dino, sprawled nearby, rolled his eyes so hard they nearly fell out. “Oh, shut up, Woozi hyung!” he snapped, tossing a pillow at him. “You’re so smug, acting like you’re her bestie now! You’re the one who used to whine, ‘Y/N, stop singing off-key, my ears are bleeding!’ Hypocrite!”

“Yeah, well, I’m a hero now,” Woozi shot back, dodging the pillow. “She needs me. You’re just jealous you’re stuck with that—” he pointed at the standee—“thing!”

The members had turned the standee into a coping mechanism. Seungcheol had dragged it to the kitchen one night, plopping it at the table with a plate of ramen. “Eat up, Cardboard Y/N,” he’d muttered, half-delirious. “Maybe you’ll turn real and yell at me again.” Mingyu had caught Vernon talking to it—“So, uh, how’s your day?”—like it might answer. Hoshi even tried feeding it a chip, then cried when it didn’t crunch. They were a mess.

That night, past 1 am, Y/N finally dragged herself home, expecting a quiet dorm. Instead, she heard muffled wails from the living room. Peeking around the corner, she saw the full circus: DK and Hoshi on the floor, sobbing into each other’s arms, Seungkwan fake-weeping into a cushion—“She’s never coming back!”—and Joshua muttering to the standee, “Tell her we’re sorry for… uh, whatever we did!” Woozi smirked from the couch, while Dino glared, plotting his next pillow attack.

Y/N’s tired face split into a grin. She tiptoed in, then burst into the room like a sunbeam on steroids, throwing her arms wide. “Surprise, losers! Your sunshine is back!” She strutted to her standee, slapped a hand on its shoulder, and beamed. “See? I told you you’d miss me! This is why I got this baby—to keep you sane! Should I order 13 more? One for each of your rooms? Imagine waking up to my face every day!”

The room went dead silent. Thirteen pairs of eyes stared at her, mid-sob, mid-smirk, mid-pillow-throw. Then, like a switch flipped, they snapped into denial mode.

Hoshi scrambled up, wiping his fake tears. “Who said we missed you?!” he barked, voice cracking. “We were just… uh… practicing for a drama audition! Right, DK?”

“Yeah!” DK yelped, jumping to his feet and brushing off his shirt. “Totally acting! Oscar-worthy stuff! We didn’t miss your yelling or anything!”

Mingyu crossed his arms, sniffing. “Pfft, you think we care? I love the quiet! No one nagging me about dishes—it’s a dream!”

Seungkwan flipped his hair, scoffing. “Exactly! I’ve been sleeping great without you blasting tiktok at 3 am!”

“And I don’t miss your bad singing!” Dino added, glaring, though his lip wobbled. “Not one bit!”

Woozi just shrugged, still smug. “I saw her yesterday, so I’m fine. You guys are the dramatic ones.”

Y/N smirked, hands on her hips, watching them flail. “Oh, really? So, you weren’t just sobbing into my cardboard self like it’s your last lifeline? Dokyeom oppa, your tears are still wet! Hoshi oppa, you’re hugging it right now!”

Hoshi yelped, realizing he’d instinctively grabbed the standee mid-denial, and dropped it like it was on fire. “No, I wasn’t! It hugged me first!”

“It’s cardboard, you idiot!” Seungkwan shouted, smacking his arm.

DK pointed at her, desperate. “We were just… uh… testing its sturdiness! Yeah! Quality control!”

“Sure, and I’m the queen of silence,” Y/N fired back, cackling so hard she nearly fell over. “You guys are terrible liars! Admit it—you missed me so bad you’re talking to a flat version of me!”

“Never!” Mingyu roared, stomping his foot, only to trip over a sock he’d left on the floor—ironic perfection. “Ow! Okay, maybe a little!”

The room erupted—Y/N laughing her head off, the members shouting denials over each other, and the standee toppling onto Hoshi, who screamed, “It’s alive! She’s back to haunt us!” Seungcheol groaned, “I need a vacation,” while Woozi smirked, “Told you she’d win.”

Y/N wiped tears of laughter, grinning like a victorious gremlin. “You’re all stuck with me—and maybe 13 more standees! Night, losers!” She strutted to her room, leaving them in chaos, still yelling over each other about how they “totally didn’t miss her” while secretly plotting to steal the standee back.

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

The sun hadn’t even peeked over the horizon, but Y/N was already up, bleary-eyed and shuffling around the dorm kitchen like a zombie in tiger slippers. Her phone buzzed nonstop on the counter—Manager Kim, blowing up her line with calls and texts: “Y/N, wake up! MV shoot prep starts now!” She groaned, rubbing her eyes, and grabbed a box of cereal, muttering, “Can’t a girl eat in peace?” The rest of Seventeen was still lost in dreamland, snoring through the chaos of her solo debut prep. Five songs, one music videos—she’d been a ghost for months, and today was the big day: filming her first MV.

Seungcheol, the ever-reliable leader, stumbled in, hair a mess but eyes sharp. He spotted Y/N fumbling with the cereal box—half the puffs spilling onto the counter—and ruffled her hair with a sleepy grin. “Morning, troublemaker. You’re up early for once.”

“Blame Managernim,” Y/N grumbled, yawning. “He’s been calling since 4 am I’m basically a corpse right now, Cheol oppa.”

“A corpse who’s about to slay her MV shoot,” he teased, nudging her aside. “Move, I’ll handle this. You’ll starve before you get there.” He poured the cereal, added milk without drowning it (a skill Y/N never mastered), and then pulled out a little bento box from the fridge. “Here—kimbap. The boys made it last night while you were passed out. Figured you’d need fuel.”

Y/N blinked at the neatly packed rolls, seaweed glistening with sesame oil. “You guys made this? For me? When did you even have time?!”

“After you crashed at, like, 2 am,” Seungcheol said, smirking. “Hoshi almost set the kitchen on fire, and Mingyu cried when he cut the carrots wonky, but we pulled it off. Don’t tell them I told you—it’s supposed to be a ‘cool oppa’ surprise.”

“Too late, I’m telling everyone,” Y/N snickered, grabbing a spoon. “This is blackmail material. Hoshi oppa with a fire extinguisher? Gold.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes but followed her outside, coffee mug in hand, to wait for the manager’s van. The sky was still dark, the air chilly, and Y/N yawned into her hoodie sleeve. When the van pulled up, Seungcheol pulled her into a bear hug. “Good luck, kid. Knock ‘em dead today—we’re proud of you. We’ll swing by later, so don’t slack off.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/N mumbled, half-asleep, giving a floppy wave as she climbed in. “See you, Cheol oppa.” She conked out against the window before the van even hit the main road.

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

At the filming location, Y/N sat in the makeup chair, still groggy as the artists dabbed foundation on her face. She clutched her kimbap box like a treasure, suddenly perking up. “Look at this!” she chirped, holding it up to the makeup noona. “My oppas made me kimbap! Handmade! They’re total disasters in the kitchen, but they did it for me! Isn’t that cute?!”

The noona laughed, brushing blush on her cheeks. “That’s adorable! You’ve got 13 big brothers wrapped around your finger.”

“More like 13 clowns,” Y/N grinned, snapping a quick pic of the kimbap—perfectly imperfect rolls with a sticky note that said “Don’t mess up, maknae!” in Seungkwan’s scrawl. She posted it to Weverse with the caption: “Oppas made me food so I don’t die on set. Hoshi-oppa almost burned the dorm down. Send help.” Carats lost it in the comments: “HOSHI WITH A FIRE EXTINGUISHER?? VIDEO OR IT DIDN’T HAPPEN!”

The shoot was a marathon—hours of dancing, posing, and pretending she wasn’t about to collapse. Halfway through a dramatic scene—Y/N mid-spin in a sparkly outfit—the studio doors creaked open. She didn’t notice, too focused on not tripping over her own feet. But behind a stack of props, 13 chaos gremlins lurked, armed with balloons, a bouquet of flowers bigger than Dino’s head, and a lopsided cake with “CONGRATS Y/N, OUR SOLO STAR!” iced in wobbly letters. Vernon held a camera, filming for future content or some future blackmail reel, whispering, “This is gonna be epic.”

The director yelled, “Cut!” and Y/N slumped, panting. “Finally! Can I sit now? My legs are noodles!” Before anyone could answer, the members exploded from their hiding spot like a pack of feral cheerleaders.

“SURPRISE, Y/N-IE!” Hoshi bellowed, leading the charge, balloons bouncing everywhere. He tripped over a cable, nearly face-planting, but recovered with a tiger roar.

DK sprinted in, waving the bouquet like a madman. “OUR MAKNAE’S A SOLO QUEEN! WE BROUGHT FLOWERS!” He shoved them at her, petals flying into her face.

Mingyu held the cake aloft, grinning. “AND CAKE! I DIDN’T BURN IT THIS TIME—WELL, ALMOST, BUT IT’S FINE!”

Y/N yelped as they swarmed her, 13 bodies crashing into a group hug that nearly knocked her over. “WHAT IS HAPPENING?! GUYS, I’M SWEATY—GET OFF!” she screeched, flailing, but her grin betrayed her.

Seungcheol laughed, ruffling her hair again. “We told you we’d come! You think we’d miss your big day? Congrats, kid!”

Woozi smirked, arms crossed. “Yeah, I helped write the songs, but these clowns insisted on this circus. You’re welcome.”

“Shut up, Woozi-hyung!” Dino snapped, shoving him. “You’re not the only hero here! We all forced her to do this solo thing—she kept writing songs and hiding them, so we bullied her into it!”

“Bullied?!” Y/N gasped, swatting him. “You mean you whined, ‘Y/N-ah, you have to debut solo, we already did!’ until I gave in! I was fine being the group chaos agent!”

“And now you’re a chaos star!” Joshua chimed in, handing her a balloon. “We’re proud—also, we miss you yelling at us, so this is selfish too.”

Seungkwan started belting a made-up congratulatory song—“Oh, Y/N, our shining maknae, you dance so great, don’t be late, solo queen supreme!”—and the others joined, off-key and ridiculous. Hoshi added a tiger growl mid-verse, DK harmonized into a screech, and Vernon accidentally popped a balloon, yelping, “MY BAD!” The crew cracked up, filming the madness.

Y/N doubled over, laughing so hard she nearly dropped the cake Mingyu thrust into her hands. “You guys are insane! Balloons? Flowers? This cake looks like it’s melting—did Hoshi-oppa sneeze on it?!”

“I DID NOT!” Hoshi protested, lunging at her. “I ONLY LICKED IT ONCE—KIDDING, KIDDING!”

“You’re disgusting!” she shrieked, shoving him off as the others piled on again, hugging and chanting, “Y/N! Y/N! SOLO STAR!”

Vernon zoomed in with the camera, narrating, “Day 1 of Y/N’s MV shoot: the hyungs lose their minds. Hoshi’s a hazard, Mingyu’s cake’s a crime scene, and Seungkwan’s singing needs a mute button. Cut!”

Manager Kim, watching from the sidelines, cackled. “This is why I love managing you idiots—never a dull moment.”

Y/N wiped laugh-tears, clutching her kimbap box from earlier. “You guys are the worst—and the best. Thanks for this… and the kimbap. I’m not crying, it’s just glitter in my eyes!”

“Sure it is,” Jeonghan teased, pinching her cheek. “Now eat that cake before Mingyu sits on it.”

“I WOULD NOT!” Mingyu roared, only to trip over a balloon string, sending the cake wobbling. “OKAY, MAYBE I WOULD—SAVE IT!”

The shoot wrapped with the members cheering her on, stuffing her with cake, and promising to crash her next filming day too. Y/N grinned, surrounded by her chaotic family, knowing her solo debut was theirs as much as hers—forced or not.

[crimsonbubble]

hard dom sangie we all say in unison

Silence Speaks Volumes

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, praise, exhibitionism, mirror sex, fingering, edging, orgasm control *not proofread, just pure horny*

[IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT HERE WE ARE] throws this and runs

taglist (dm to be tagged); @sidusvenari @sugarnspice630 @ravenempress101 @autieofthevalley @linearities @wisejudgedragonhairdo @madiexuberant @mifuelarts @straytiny127 @yun-fangz @huen1ngk41 @juyeonshour @uniq-tastic @hongjng8 @miyaluvvsyou @everyonewooeverywhere @hongjoongtime117 @oddracha @kingbloopter @jay-0n3s @ane1o2 @jelly1117 @aftertherain-atr @k-zuzu @lxnnrobin @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @lezleegerguson-120

The dinner with your family was a success, a major one as Yeosang could barely keep his hands off your thigh. His restraint wore thin as you watched you with dazed eyes. You had caught his gaze multiple times but each time his eyes grew darker.

You had gone to the bathroom to freshen up, nearly jumping out of your skin when Yeosang weaseled his way in. His hands found your hips immediately, his nails digging into the fabric of your dress. He pressed himself against your back, his head falling onto your shoulder.

His lips were gentle as he kissed up your neck, his hands pushing your dress over your hips. You tried to turn around but Yeosang was quick to press you into the counter. "Nuh uh, I want you to watch yourself, honey." Your face flushed as Yeosang didn't bother to pull your panties off, merely tugging them to the side as he rubbed his thumb over your leaking cunt. An unexpected moan let your lips as he pressed slow and torturous circles against your clit.

"Now now, you don't want your parents hearing us do you?" His voice came out like silk ribbons, tying themselves around you as he bent you over the bathroom counter. Just as you pursed your lips, Yeosang was quick to press his fingers to your twitching hole. The stretch was pleasurable, a burn that seared your nerves.

His pace turned brutal fast, a constant pressure on your sweet spot as he fingered you open. He all but pinned you to the counter, letting his fingers hit any and every pleasure point in your body. Yeosang wrapped himself around you, an arm around your waist as you pushed forward against his hands.

"Easy now honey, not too loud." His voice is now a hushed whisper as he split your pussy on his fingers. He pressed his palm flat against you, digging the heel of his palm into your swollen clit. You slapped a hand over your mouth as you tried to minimize the whorish moans threatening to leave your body. You peered at him through wet eyelashes, whining against your hands as he all but smiled as if he wasn't ruining your pussy with just his fingers.

He could feel you clench around his fingers, the distant look in your eyes gave away how close you were. Just as you were to topple over the edge, Yeosang pulled away and a knock was heard on the door followed by your motjers voice. "We'll be out in a minute." He was quick to drive away your mom, laughing to himself at your helpless expression.

He made sure you met his eyes as he brought his fingers up to his lips. Yeosang was beaming as he sucked his own fingers, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you with intent. He was quick to fix your appearance with a clean hand, unlocking the door and pushing you ahead. He washed his hands with a smug expression, coming out of the bathroom with nothing but satisfaction written on his face.

He met your eyes again, sending you a quick wink as he went to talk with your family again.

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 23

So ch 25 will be the Bruce thingy- have fun with this one 🥹

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 23 >>next

“That’s an insane thing to ask out of me.” You raised an eyebrow at the two men sitting before you. “Sounds like fun. I’ll do it.” Lex just raised an eyebrow as you shrugged. “Just like that? No ‘how dare you dicks do something so stupidly suicidal’, no ‘I should put you both in my pocket dimensions for eternity’ just- I’ll do it?” Slade huffed. “Have you never heard of don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“I don’t know how you were raised, Wilson, but she and I are street kids. Nothing comes for free.” Your laugh drew the men’s attention. “Cynical. But the truth. I need the distraction after what happened to mom… and I want a small favor in exchange. Have y’all ever been on the Justice League’s space station?” The men glanced at each other before leaning in closer to you, their interest piqued. “No.”

“You’re about to be.” You nod towards the wall behind Lex, the one made of just glass. Your unimpressed look stuck on the second Superman, flexing and making faces. Kon-El stopped only when he turned around and saw Luthor's ashamed look and the unmoved faces of you and the other man.

Lex sighed and pressed a button, a panel of glass going down to allow the young man inside. And the young adult was quick to introduce himself. “-between us, I’m the better Superman.” Kon puffed his chest, forgetting for a moment why he was so willing to be close to Lex. “I prefer Bizarro.” The reply earned a stammer from Kon while Slade hid the amused smile behind his glass. “I take it the JL has agreed?” The young man cleared his throat. “Uh- yes. Tomorrow night at 5, so that everyone has a clear schedule and will be there.”

“Good. Tell them I’ll bring company, and to hold their shit to themselves until after the meeting.” You get up as Kon starts talking again. “You know, Jon talked quite a bit about you, and mom would love to see you again, and I heard you like animals- My grandparents got these fluffy cows, they’re real cute-“ He stopped when a flash of a green light and the sound of a door opening appeared, his eyes barely catching Slade leave and not even noticing where the light came from.

“Wha- where’d she go?” Kon turns and asks Lex. “Just missed your opportunity, smooth operator.” Lex rolled his eyes. “Some word of advice-“ Kon snorted at that, lifting off the ground. “From you? Never.” And just like that, the young man was gone too, leaving his creator pouting.

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“What do you have to say for yourself?” Damian had barely walked inside the manor before his father and Tim, alongside Jason, accosted him. Granted, the teen wasn’t listening to his father; his glare was instead glued to Drake and Todd's snickering forms. Smirking as the others came to see what was happening, his eyes locked with Grayson’s.

“I didn’t come back empty-handed, father. I have information you wouldn’t be able to find on the internet.” Bruce’s jaw clenched at that, but he was interested. “And Talia?” Damian just raised an eyebrow. “She’s a grown woman, vaccinated, I’m sure she’s doing just fine wherever she is.”

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“Are you fucking crazy?!” You yell while diving straight for Talia, who jumped off a skyscraper. The woman simply smiled as you wrapped your arms around her, slowly coming to a stop so you wouldn’t snap her neck. “Perhaps. But you caught me, and I have what I wanted. Your undivided attention.” Talia wraps her arm around your shoulders.

She doesn’t let you speak, smirking at your twitching eye. “I won’t let you get rid of me just because my son made a mistake, a grave one, sure, but a mistake. I grew attached to you and your family in the short time we have known each other, and I won’t let go so easily.”

She was as crazy as she was beautiful. “Lady-“ and she shushed you. “I won’t go anywhere until you accept the fact that you can’t get rid of me.” Maybe you should take Lex up on that family vacation, you definitely needed it. Your mom definitely did after that Levy fucker. You take a deep breath in, exhaling softly. “You’re lucky I have to be somewhere in a few hours and don’t have the time to argue.” You mumble and start flying towards her apartment, ignoring the way she smiled so smugly.

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Everyone in the meeting room of the JL's space station seemed to quiet down once Batman crashed into his chair, hands covering his face as the smug Red Hood smiled brighter than ever. It was a terrifying sight. “ ’Ello there, Batsy… You good?” John Constantine asked, the only one brave enough to ask.

The bat man dragged his hands down his face, letting them dangle over his knees. “Sorceress may be dating Deathstroke and Luthor at the same time.” The chaos his words brought only made Jason happier. “My condolences-“ Diana was quickly cut off by Richard Grayson, who finally processed what the older man said. “No- You’re lying, it's not a funny joke B. We've been through this, you're not quite funny-” Denial. His smile was bright, but his eyes were dead inside. “Our sister knows better than to associate with that little-“ Anger. “Does she? Unless Slade told her she wouldn’t, because we sure as hell didn’t tell her that. By the way, look at this one- they’re so cute together.”

Jason knew he was pushing it with the photo of you holding Lex on your shoulder and Slade under your arm, face unimpressed as the men seemed to be pouting while Mark was dealing with some monster behind your form. “No. No- it’s- she’s just doing a job- or it’s mind control-“ Bargaining. “Oh my god- we fucked her up mentally so bad she’s seeking the attention we didn’t give her in old men.” Dick cried. Depression. His gaze raised to the smug Jailbird. “You’re a liar- you liar-liar pants on fire!” Acceptance- oh… Never mind, we’re back to denial.

“He must be lying.” Damian’s voice was heard through the coms, the boy having been grounded until further notice. “She likes the drama and to annoy them, she would never think of such an atrocity… I refuse to believe she has such low standards.” Of course, Jason was lying. But he had accomplices that would make the family question reality.

Speaking of, a green portal opened a few feet away from the Justice League members. The first one to walk through was you. “A few important people to the mission are about to come through. I expect you all to meet them with no threats, just like they will.” You didn’t let them finish, starting to introduce. “This is the director of the Global Defense Agency, Cecil Stedman.”

“Allen of Unopa, a representative of the Coalition of Planets, and Thaedus, the founder of the Coalition of Planets.” Allen was quick to smile and greet everyone while you smile softly as Mark stepped through. “And, of course, my brother, Invincible, and my father, Omni-Man.” Some members tensed as Nolan stepped through the portal. “And Lex Luthor and Deathstroke? Was that it?” Slade nodded, taking your left while Lex stood at your right. Dick was ready to crash out, his fingers itching for a fight. “I understand why they are here.” Hawkman grunted, nodding to the other before turning his glare to Slade and Luthor. “But what relevance do they have in all of this?”

“That’s a piece of information to give the next time. We’re still working to see if the information given checks out.” Your response was as professional as it could be, not giving away anything before shrugging. “And maybe I need a piece of eye candy from time to time since I have to deal with you lot.” Jason could cry with happiness as the rest of the bats crashed into their chairs. It was evil what you two had come up with- well, what he came up with and what you, and the others played along with just because you were bored. Another man came through, followed by yet another man and woman. “And this is Harvey Dent.” Your hand moved to the two behind him. “Tucker Garnet and Jessica Lament, our legal team.”

“In exchange for your help with re-introducing Omni-Man to Earth, we’re willing to share what we know about the Viltrumites and how to stop them. Even offer some help dealing with the little traitor you have running around.” Cecil redirected the attention when he saw Red Robin raise his hand toward the assassin, ready to complain as well. “They’ve been dealt with. Intergalactic prison.” Hal Jordan shrugs. “Right…” Harvey mumbled before clearing his throat. “Here are the papers you need to sign before we talk.”

“What reassurance do we have that you do know how to deal with the Viltrumites? You have one on your side, how will that amount to anything when an army of thousands will come?” At the questions posed by Red Robin, Thaedus was quick to speak up. “He’s not the only Viltrumite that changed sides. And he isn’t the first.” He stepped forward. “I was the first one to rebel against the empire. I was the one who killed the first Viltrumite Emperor, Argall. I founded the Coalition of Planets specifically to fight against the empire.”

“And you’re wrong in your assumption. Their propaganda may have spread far and wide, but the plague wiped most of us out. There’s less than 50 remaining Viltrumites.” Nolan continued. His eyes slowly turned towards his kids as he rested his hand on your shoulder, a proud smile taking over him. “Maybe three less.” Bruce frowned at the insinuation and at the smug smirk that grew on your face. First Joker and now some Viltrumites… would you have been different if he was the father you deserved? He straightened at the thought. Of course, you would have been- this- you being so okay with murder is due to Nolan’s indoctrination, he was sure of it. Well… He was deluding himself to believe that.

“Oh- how nice, we have words-“ Cecil quickly interrupted Hawkman. “You have the only thing that will save your public image. Sign the damn papers so we all can get what we want. Us more allies against the genociders and you keeping the image of the good guys.”  Duke is the first one to get up and grab a paper, with Stephanie and Cassandra quickly following. In the end, everyone did.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It’s been hours of debriefing for both Nolan’s reintroduction and the information of Viltrumites, mainly correcting the deeply embedded propaganda they took as fact. You were tired. So tired. Mainly of how Dick looked at you like a hurt little puppy.

Granted, Lex saved you with a nudge, showing you the time. “Well, I’m sure you all can carry on without us. We have to be present for our reservations.” You smile as you get up from your seat. “A reservation is more important than-“ You quickly frowned as you glared at Superman. “If you dare stop me from spending time with my boos at The Ritz I’ll bite your head off.”

As you three left, Jason hid his laugh behind a cough. Now, while the bat crew cringed at the use of endearment, Nightwing was straight up losing it. The man gagged audibly, sliding down the chair to his knees before curling up on the floor, shaking. “Isn’t the Ritz closed at this hour?” Diana’s question made the man shudder at the thought, immediately getting back to his knees to grab at Batman. “I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them all.” Richard hissed, shaking the man. Kon, decided to get up and move to the other side of the room, to stretch his legs. No other reason. “I don’t know man.” Jason started up, mixing the pot as he smiled under his mask. “It’s kind of cute she calls them her boos.” Dick gagged once more, crumbling to the ground with a whimper. “My birdie- my innocent baby sis-“

Batman could only watch as his oldest started crying- or maybe just hyperventilating, he wasn’t quite sure. “I second Richard.” The older man could only sigh as Damian’s voice cracked through the coms. He… He dreaded the thought that, perhaps, letting go of his no-killing rule would be beneficial. His eyes drifted to Nolan and Mark, who decided to pick up a conversation with Jason. Maybe…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“You lied to them so easily. You’re a terrible liar, usually.” Lex brought up as he changed from his costume to a more space-appropriate suit as Slade did the same. “I’m a terrible liar if I have to come up with something on barely a second, give me a minute or a whole day, and I’ll have a whole story made up.” You shrug.

“Have you ever lied to us like that?” Slade couldn’t help the curiosity that shone through. “What would I gain from that? Lex gives me money when I just straight up ask, and you bring me trinkets from your missions without me even having to mention it. There’s literally no use for me to lie.”

Lex came out with his space suit helmet in hand. “Did you have to call us your boos?” You just smirked. “It was the cringier option. I’m more of ‘my heart’ type of endearment.” Slade looked at you with a smirk on his smug mug. “Is that what you called Giganta on your very short-lived escapade?”

“How about we don’t talk about that?” Lex tutted at your failed diversion. “Aw, did she break your heart?” You gave the bald man a blank stare. “I will throw you into a black hole.” He just laughed.

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