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kookieskookiejar · 24 days ago

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A Nightwing x Starfire (reader) AU

Synopsis:

Jungkook said goodbye to you years ago when the two of you were just on the cusp of adulthood, he swore he'd never love again if it wasn't you, but fate gives him another chance when you return to earth, he just didn't imagine that it'd feel like there's galaxies between the both of you despite being right next to you.

Warnings under the cut!

Warnings: extreme levels of down badism, brief pining, fluff, smut, unprotected sxx, manhandling. Jungkook calls reader the nickname, Star multiple times.

Jungkook feels alive as he speeds down the streets of Gotham at nearly midnight on his bike, the wind blowing past his face is an exhilaration to him, still within the speed limit, for now, while there's yet to have any crime that he needs to tackle.

Gotham is quiet at this time, crime rate has been driving people away from staying out in the streets after 10pm, sometimes people would choose to linger at busier streets where police are deployed to keep crime at bay, unfortunately for Jungkook, that means he needs to pick up the slack, there never seem to be enough troops, the number of officers decreasing by the year as crimes rates increase, no one wants to risk their life, Jungkook understands, that's what the bat family and the titans are for, as long as his families stand, then Gotham would never end up in the clutches of injustice.

Suddenly, Jungkook picks up a scream at his 9 o'clock, immediately revving his bike to go faster, his head scanning left right and up down to look for the source of the distress.

When he finally locates suspicious sounds coming from an alleyway after several turns, he sees a faint neon green glow ascending into the sky.

Jungkook gets off his bike to inspect the opening of the alleyway, a woman leaves the dark alley with a huff, swinging her handbag back onto her shoulder. Jungkook waits till she leaves before he goes into the alleyway.

A man in a full black attire comes into view, tied up with his own jacket, cursing something about some glow stick bitch.

“Who tied you up?” Jungkook asks while texting Commissioner Gordon with his burner phone to send someone over.

“Some bitch with green powers,” the man says with a huff, having given up escaping at this point, putting up a fight with Nightwing would be suicidal.

“You're sure? Red hair?”

“Didn't see, too dark,” he mutters, squirming in his spot.

“Sit tight, someone's coming to get you,” Jungkook says before pocketing his phone.

Jungkook takes his leave, climbing back onto his bike to wait for the police car.

While he waits, his personal phone rings, he has received a notification, he notes, retrieving his phone, he swipes it open to reveal a text from Barbara.

‘Wanna come over after your patrol?’

‘Can't, got a project I need to finish up tonight after the patrol, next time.’

Jungkook then pockets his phone and focuses back on what the guy said, green powers, and from what he had seen, a figure that flies with a green glow that's all too familiar, if his assumptions are correct, that means you're back on earth.

Does Jungkook actually have a project to finish up? No he doesn't, but did he lie to Barbara in order to get to the bottom of your likely appearance? Yes.

But to Jungkook’s defense, he and Barbara are a strictly no strings attached kind of situation, even though Barbara has always dropped hints about being keen on the idea of taking what they currently have going on to the next level, Jungkook just can't.

It's an open secret at this point, why he's not open to a relationship, and it's also the same reason why he's now taking off to the titans’ tower after the arrival of a police car.

Jungkook immediately dashed into the tech room where he keeps track of all the latest news and happenings within Gotham and other neighbouring cities, including the atmosphere, but before he could check if there was any unusual activity other than Superman's daily fly out for the sun's direct rays, the monitors that show the tower’s live security footage picks up something out of the ordinary, Jungkook clicks onto the panel to enlarge the footage, and immediately he recognises the lock of unnaturally bright red hair flowing in tune with the breeze, the helipad area has always been the windiest.

Jungkook runs out of the tech room and takes the fire escape to the helipad, foregoing the lift. When he finally reached the top, he takes a deep breath to calm himself before he pushes the heavy metal door open.

Jungkook’s eyes lock onto your figure, calmly sitting by the edge of the building with your legs dangling over the air before you caught the sound of the door opening, your head whipping back, your eyes wide as you recognise the person standing behind you, so different yet you still recognise the energy that radiates off of Jungkook.

“Didn't know you still lived here,” you say before patting the spot next to you, “join me.”

Jungkook silently walks to you, taking a seat next to you, as close to you as possible before he scans your face, you've grown into your features so beautifully from when he had last seen you when you were both teenagers, a little bit more mature, more woman, for a lack of better wording, not that Jungkook could think up of anything right now other than that he's glad that you're back.

“You came back,” Jungkook says, still in disbelief, he thinks he's dreaming and fears that he might wake up at any moment.

“Yeah, the whole ruling over the planet thing isn't really my thing,” you say with a shrug.

“How did you convince your aunt and uncle to let you go?” Jungkook asks before he realised that he still has his mask on, yanking it off his head and pocketing it quickly, he even catches a ghost of a smile on your lips before you school your face back to a neutral expression.

‘Why are you being so distant towards him?’ Jungkook wonders to himself.

“My other cousin offered to take over the throne through a battle that I lost intentionally,” you explain, the throne would've been yours ages ago if your sister hadn't framed you for killing your own parents, but he knows you never wanted to rule the planet.

“How long have you been back?” Jungkook asks, you don't look like you just got back, you have regular clothes on, why didn't you look for him first thing you got back?

“Almost a week, crashed at Raven’s place,” you say offhandedly, as if you didn't send Jungkook’s mind spiralling, the most forefront question in his mind on repeat right now questioning if what the two of you had was merely a fever dream.

“I'm glad you're back, I really am, the team isn't the same without you,” Jungkook says, but he feels like he's got a mouthful of sand weighing his words down.

“I thought you're more of a solo act now, Raven’s told me all about your promotion, Nightwing,” you tease, your first smile of the night, Jungkook notes, at least you're genuinely happy for him.

“Yeah, Bruce had me promoted because he wants to spend more time with Selina,” Jungkook jokes, laughing at his own joke, but when he realises what position he's in right now, he sombers up, suddenly things aren't so funny anymore, if Bruce could get his happy ending, then could he get his?

“They seem like a happy couple, can't wait for the wedding,” you say while nodding your head, as if you're very certain that the two would end up being wedded.

“I sure hope they do end up together forever, the last thing I'd want is for Bruce to be in a pissy mood all the time,” Jungkook says with a sigh, knowing Bruce's temper, “speaking of forever, will you ever return back to Tamaran, or are you staying on earth permanently?” Jungkook asks, he couldn't help it, he has to know if he has a chance with you.

“It depends, I'll stay on earth if I'm given a reason to,” you say with a quick glance to Jungkook before you quickly change the topic, “how about we get back to your patrol? I'm sure you stopped halfway because you saw a glimpse of me during it, I'll join you, it's been so long since we last did this,” you say before getting up and walking back to the fire escape.

Jungkook follows you wordlessly like a lovesick puppy, he can't help it, he finally feels like he has something to look forward to other than catching crooks and passing tests.

When he follows you down the stairs, he sees your fit more closely under the help of the fluorescent lights, and Jungkook curses internally when he catches sight of your bubble butt in no other than the iconic juicy couture tight sweats that have a bejewelled juicy stamped across your cheeks, the pink velvet material sticking close to your skin.

A little too soon for his liking, the both of you have reached the living area, and to Jungkook’s shock, you strip right in front of him, revealing a new suit underneath the matching set, a bodysuit with tiny gems of many shades of purple and green, the familiar red gem from your old suit remains its position beneath your clavicle.

“Wow,” Jungkook says, starstruck, your suit, your body, he'd get down on his knees right now to beg if you asked, and your new boots, they go as far as your uppertighs, how did he not catch the tip of your boots just now?

“Yeah, the old suit doesn't fit all that well anymore and it was customary for me to get a new one once I became ruler, is it too much?” you question with a twirl and Jungkook feels the breath being knocked out of himself at the sight of your body being wrapped up so prettily in your new suit.

“No, not at all, you look beautiful,” Jungkook sputters before pressing the button that calls the lift up to this floor, and fortunately for him, it arrives sooner than expected so he doesn't have to look like a loser in front of you anymore.

“Thank you, your new suit looks great on you as well,” you say, complimenting him, and Jungkook has never been more glad about his mop of hair covering the tips of his ears, you've never said the same for his Robin costume, in fact, sometimes you'd say it was cute because of all the bright colours, just to annoy him, “a bit different from the Robin suit, but not in a bad way, just makes me realise how much we've grown,” you say say with a bittersweet sigh, in a blink of an eye the two of you are now in your 20s, and Jungkook has grown into a man so suddenly.

“I'm still the same Jungkook you've always known, nothing’s changed, Star,” Jungkook insists, stepping closer to you, but to his misfortune, the lift doors slid open and you moved away from him, excited to see the changes of the garage after so many years.

“We've all changed, Jungkook, change is inevitable, see, you even have a new bike, I love the blue highlights,” you gushed, taking a closer look when Jungkook turned it on through the comms on his suit.

“I could take you for a spin instead of flying,” Jungkook offers as he leans on his bike, gazing at you intently to scan for your reaction, but he's quickly sidetracked, god, you're so pretty.

“It's better to scan from below and above, Kook,” you explain, brushing off his offer without a second of hesitation, but Jungkook isn't the type to give up, he's Nightwing, for fuck’s sake.

“I'll drop you off after the bridge, how's that sound? You've never ridden this bike before, I swear it's even better than the old one,” Jungkook says, even throwing in his puppy eyes that he knows you can't resist to convince you.

“Fine,” you lament with a roll of your eyes, “and you said you never changed, you used to hate it when I asked to go for a spin behind you when we were kids,” you say with a huff as you watch him swing a leg over the huge thing, why is his suit so damn skintight, it's too distracting.

“That's because we were kids and I was being a dick, I let you ride behind me when we started-,” Jungkook cuts himself off, he doesn't want to acknowledge the fact that the two of you are no longer together, that he might never be yours ever again.

“This does feel sturdier than the last one,” you say offhandedly as you climb up behind Jungkook, trying your best to leave a gap between your bodies.

“It goes faster too, Bruce had the old one made to be ‘teen safe’, so you gotta hold on tight,” Jungkook says, albeit still distracted by the messy thoughts in his head.

‘Get your head out of the gutter, damn it,’ Jungkook cursed at himself as he puts on his helmet, then with a kick of his leg, he started the engine and took off.

Immediately he hears you curse by his ear and feels your body fall against his due to the force of the sudden speed, the feeling so familiar but so different, and intrusively, Jungkook thinks it'd feel even better if both of you didn't have any clothes on right now, but he quickly buries that thought into the back of his head before he sports a half mass in front of you, and he before he knows it, the connection bridge between the tower and town comes to an end, so he hits the brakes and lets you fly off on your own, tailing your route via his bike, your beautiful silhouette painting the night sky a pretty shade of neon green wherever you go.

To Jungkook’s surprise, Gotham is quiet tonight, as if all the criminals, other than the one from earlier, decided to take this random Tuesday night off, and so the patrol was coming to an end, that is, until he sees you flying down to check something out a few meters away, and so Jungkook speeds down to meet you, expecting to beat up someone, he quickly unseaths his pair of escrima sticks, quickly advancing to where he'd last caught your green glow, but instead of seeing you in action, he sees you crouched next to a thin and frail old woman next to a dumpster.

“Hey, how about I give you some money for the night to find somewhere to stay for a few days and have some actual meals-

“I can't accept that, child, I'm a nuisance enough as it is, homeless at such an old age,” she says with a shake of her head at her own misfortune.

“What's up?” Jungkook asks you, trying to assess the situation at hand now that he's not in offense mode, putting his escrima sticks away.

“This grandma here, her husband recently passed away and the old man didn't leave her anything in the will and instead signed everything away to the mistress’s family, including their own home, she's been trying to look for a job, but no one's willing to hire an old woman for all the jobs she went interviews for,” you explain.

“Hey, it's not the end of the world, ma'am, do you know the stew kitchen in Chinatown? They have rooms above the store for people who need a place to stay, as long as you're willing to help with the volunteer work in any way in your capacity, maybe you can help with the kitchen work?” Jungkook suggests, and the old lady thanks him profusely for the suggestion, “here, take the money and look for a nearby hotel to stay for the night, order some food for tonight and tomorrow's breakfast, then take a cab to Chinatown tomorrow, alright?” Jungkook says as he fishes out his wallet from the side, pulling out enough money to last her a few days, just in case she needs to rest up longer at wherever she's staying at.

“Thank you so much, you two youngsters are too kind, thank you,” she says with a bow before the two of you guide her to the nearest hotel, which is only a few blocks away.

“So much for ‘I’ when you clearly don't have any money on you,” Jungkook teases, and for a moment, you don't know what he meant, until you recall the moment when he joined the conversation and what you had said.

“Oh come on, I'm not the heir to Wayne Enterprise here,” you say as a defense, shoving Jungkook playfully before you take flight again, but before you could get too far, Jungkook calls out to you.

“How about a race on the rooftops? First one to reach the bridge wins,” Jungkook suggests, and he knows it's an offer you won't turn down, the two of you used to love being a menace on all the rooftops, sometimes you'd run to the Wayne Tower just to piss him off.

“Oh you're going down, Jeon,” you say before you fly down to grasp his arms with your hands, Jungkook’s gotten much heavier than when you last did this, but you still manage to toss him up the nearest roof and begin the race.

Running side by side until a building is too tall to be reached by foot, you would fly and Jungkook would employ his trusty grappling hook gun, and you haven't felt this free in ages.

Jungkook could tell that whatever worries you had are now momentarily faded to the back of your head as you laugh at a particularly odd office garden rooftop landscape.

Soon the race comes to an end, and it seems like you were about to win, but Jungkook had purposefully fell back to do this, instead of reaching for his grappling hook gun for the final leap, he reaches for his lasso gun, aiming it at you, letting the ropes encase you.

“Jungkook! What the fuck are you up to, oh my god,” you demand in disbelief, you can't for the life of you put up with this man and the antics he springs on you, and to think he did some growing up while you were gone.

“If I didn't lasso you up, you'd fly all the way back to the tower,” Jungkook says with a tut as he reigns you in, until he successfully pulls you into his embrace, a gasp leaving your lips at the lack of distance between the two of you.

“Okay, cowboy, I think it's time to let me go, you caught me, breaking the rules to do it by the way, I don't think I agreed to a chase but a race,” you say as you wiggle in his hold, seeing if you can break free without breaking his new toy.

“It was too tempting, thought I'd try out this new tool, you know,” Jungkook says with a shrug and that smug expression on his face that unfortunately for you, still gives you butterflies.

“Aw, did daddy get you new toys?” you tease, but you regret it in an instant when you see the way his eyes darken.

“Don't you call him that,” Jungkook warns as his grip on you tightens, almost bruising, and you really shouldn't say what's on your mind right now, but you can't help but give into the temptation, blaming the fact that being so close to Jungkook derails all common sense from your head.

“Why not? Who should I be calling that then?” you retort, chest heaving in anticipation of Jungkook’s next move.

But when his eyes snap to your lips, you feel like a bucket of cold water washed over you, waking you up from whatever charm Jungkook had you on, pushing him away with both palms on his sturdy chest.

“We shouldn't,” you say as you try your best to loosen yourself from his hold with no avail, you forgot how annoying you used to find his little toys to be.

“Why not? Why are you acting so distant? Why can't we go back to how things were between us? You said you're not leaving, are you planning to leave earth again?” Jungkook asks as he feels his heart sink, like his whole world is crumbling around him, which is ironic because his whole world now resides in his arms.

“Kook, I don't want to get between you and Barbara, I don't want to wreck whatever you have going on with her, it's wrong and unfair to her,” you explain, after giving up on escaping his hold.

“Sweetheart, whatever I have going on with Barbara, it's casual, just an easy stress relief for me, she's nothing to me, whatever I have going on with her, it comes to an end, I feel nothing for her, it's always been you, all this time, since we were kids, I love you, Star,” Jungkook confesses, he sounds like such a jerk to Barbara, but he doesn't give a fuck as long as you get the message that he's all in for you, that he'd give up the world for you.

“Really? You don't have any feelings for Barbara?” you ask again, just to be certain, you could always tell when he lied as a kid, you just have to look into his eyes closer, just to see if he has even a sliver of doubt.

“No, but I do know that I love you, with all my heart,” Jungkook says once more before he steals a quick peck of your lips, god, he can taste the grape flavoured lip balm on you, and he thinks he's found a new addiction.

“I love you too, Jungkook, now if you could be a gentleman and let me go, that would be great,” you say before you feel the ropes around you loosen, but just as quickly, Jungkook’s arms are around you again, that bright smile that you missed all these years is back on his beautiful face.

“How did you find out about Barbara anyways?” Jungkook asks, head tilted to a side like that would instantly help him think clearer about the situation, cute that he still has this habit, you thought to yourself.

“Raven,” that one word and Jungkook makes a fuss about how she's always so privy to her own privacy and never about his.

“Oh come on, I would've found out one way or another, could've just tailed you myself,” you say with a shrug, and both of you know you're right, it's how you found out all the surprises Jungkook was planning for you back then when you were dating after all.

“Ride back with me,” Jungkook suggests, and you give in, letting him hold your hand, leading you to where his bike is parked, camouflaged with its invisibility feature.

“Did this thing drive itself like the last one?” you ask as you spot the bike right in front of you knowing that it sure wasn't half an hour ago, to which Jungkook tells you that it does in fact have a self driving mode, and so you formulate something in your mind that probably breaks like ten traffic laws at once.

When you told Jungkook to lie down facing you instead of the road on his bike, he thought you were joking, until you straddled him and told him to put the bike on self driving mode, that's when he pieced two and two together, and Jungkook’s never been more grateful for technology, oh and also his strong thigh muscles, because he's damn sure if he's any weaker, he would've been faced down on the road right now instead of groaning into your lips as he indulges in the feeling of having you grind down on his boner as the two of you zoom past empty traffic, he needs to tell Alfred to wipe the traffic cameras later, he thinks to himself before he feels your hand gripping his cock through his suit, breaking his chain of thoughts.

“Baby, when did you get this adventurous?” Jungkook asks with a shake of his head in disbelief as he feels your hand wander from his length to his chest, groping around, trying your best to find his nipples as you take his earlobe between your lips, biting playfully.

“Just making up for lost time,” you reply quickly before you finally found one of his nipples, lightly pinching the sensitive bud, which garners quite the enthusiasm from his junior down there, twitching beneath your clothed core.

“We have all the time in the world, and also, we're back to headquarters,” Jungkook notifies you before he tells you to shift so he can park his bike.

In the meantime, you let your eyes wander around the garage, taking in the changes, there's way more vehicles here now, in the past there was only Jungkook’s bike and the Cyborg truck that Mingyu used to ferry all of you around town, now there's a fleet of supercars lined up next to each other.

“They're all yours?”, you ask as you let Jungkook carry you down his bike, even though both of you know damn well you're more than capable of getting off yourself.

“Yeah,” Jungkook says with a shrug like they're mere toy cars, well to him they might be, especially in terms of financial value.

“Nice, it's been so long since I drove, can't wait to take them for a spin,” you say offhandedly, but you see Jungkook tense up immediately.

“Babe, come on, the last time you drove-

“Oh come on, I just suck at parking, that's what boyfriends are for anyways, and yeah it's been years but I'm sure it'll be fine, I have a license, remember?” you deadpan, ignoring the million dollar jackpot look Jungkook is currently sporting.

“What did you just say?” Jungkook asks, that stupid goofy smile still on his face as he reaches for you, resting his hands on your hips.

“That I'm driving one of these bad boys, so you can either panic in the passenger seat or not be in the car at all,” you say with finality, you'll steal his car keys if you have to, you're sure you can find his car keys somewhere in this damn building.

“Nuh uh, you're not getting out of this, missy, repeat the first part,” Jungkook says, but before he could corner you to the nearest wall, you escape from his embrace.

“Only if you catch me!” you holler as you run to the lift at top speed, shutting the doors in Jungkook’s face.

“God damn it, I forgot how she drives me mad,” Jungkook mutters to himself as he watches the lift stop at the 4th floor before he dashes to the fire escape to track you down, but knowing you, you would take the stairs to other floors to throw him off your trail.

‘I got my work cut out for me, don't I?’ Jungkook thought to himself with a sigh.

There isn't much at 4th floor, just a storage room for weapons, numerous floors before the top floors are for storage, not enough space for anything else, even though he catches a whiff of the scent of your perfume, he knows you're long gone, as confirmed by the lift’s panel now showing that you're at the 35th floor, where the main floor resides, Jungkook decides to take the lift this time round, just in case you decide to play a prank on him and head back down the lower floors.

When he reached his destination, he catches a glimpse of green glow in the dark at the corridor which leads to the rooms, he knows you're leaving him crumbs to follow, so he plays along, chasing the green glow until it disappears down a hallway, when he sees the observation deck at the end, he wonders if you're waiting for him there, that's where the two of you had your first time after all, but when he gets there, it's empty, so Jungkook goes to his next best guess, your room, scanning his face at the security pad before the automated doors slide open to reveal you, standing in the dark other than the light emitting from your hand as a makeshift torch light, looking at all your old photos that you had hung on the wall.

“Caught you,” Jungkook says as he wraps an arm around you, noticing that you've changed into an old sweater of yours, and suddenly he feels like nothing really ever changed, you're still you and he's still the Jungkook that has always felt love and affection towards you.

“Took you long enough,” you say with an exasperated sigh.

“Well, someone decided to change routes last minute, speaking of change, I didn't move any of your stuff, just came in here to clean from time to time,” Jungkook didn't let the cleaners go in your room, he didn't want anything out of order if you ever came back.

“Thank you, thought Mingyu would've converted my room into a gaming room by the time I got back,” you joke, but deep down you always had a gut feeling that Jungkook would leave your room as it is.

“He's moved in with Sarah and they only come back to visit from time to time during semester break or long weekends, so a gaming room would be Sarah’s issue now,” Jungkook explains with a chuckle knowing damn well Sarah isn't going to let him have a gaming room.

“I'm glad they finally got together,” you still remember the days of Mingyu downloading random foreign languages to impress Sarah when they volunteered at the pet shelter together.

“Mhm, I think you owe me a label too,” Jungkook says, laying kisses on your neck where the sweater is swooped down, trying to get as much exposed skin as possible.

“How about you show me you're worthy of the label first?” you retort, turning to face him because you know he'd be caught off guard, and true to your assumptions, he looks damn cute with his mouth popped open in shock and eyebrows shot up his forehead before he quickly composes himself, now his gaze is dangerous, like a predator that stumbled upon his prey.

“Oh baby, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into,” Jungkook says before he pushes you onto your bed, caging you with his arms, but before he could take things up a notch, you push his lips away with a palm.

“Not in front of my kids, babe,” you say before Jungkook looks at you all confused, that is until you reach a hand out to ‘pet’ your snoopy plushie, one of the many plushies on your bed.

“Seriously?” Jungkook questions ludicrously, eyeing all of your plushies with a frown, he's getting cockblocked by plushies, of all things.

“Seriously, it's either we're doing this in your room or you're not getting no pussy,” you say, definitely not up for debate with that stern tone of yours.

“Fuck it, fine,” Jungkook says before he scoops you up in his arms without any strain, as if you weigh as much as a feather.

“Fuck, you could've just let me walk, it's just two steps,” you say as you hold onto Jungkook’s shoulders for dear life, shaken up by how quickly he had you up in his arms.

“Can't risk you running away again,” Jungkook says as he scans his palm to unlock his room, crossing the last few steps to toss you on his comfy bed unceremoniously before getting back into the previous position he was in back in your room.

“Have you ever brought her here?” there you go running your mouth with something stupid, but you couldn't help it, scanning his face.

“I'd never bring her up here, the Titans Tower is our place, even if by some miracle, I managed to move on enough to marry someone, it'd still feel wrong to bring them up here, that's such a jerk thing to say, but I'll never have to worry about that anymore,” Jungkook says before he resumes kissing you, all the anger and longing pouring into the kiss, he isn't mad at you, he'll never be, but the thought of him needing to settle for someone who isn't you struck a nerve, his hands are grabbing every every slither of skin he could get even though his fingertips are sealed in his suit as he dominates the kiss, rolling his hips into yours, cursing at the way his cock is straining in the confines of his suit.

“Does it hurt?” you ask after your hand stills the movement of his hips, clenching your thighs as close as you can at the sight of the bulge he's sporting.

“Yeah,” Jungkook says with a shake of his head, huffing at the fact that he probably looks like a hot mess right now.

“Let me make it feel better, where's the zipper of this suit?” you ask as you use your question as an excuse to feel him up, Jungkook could tell what you're up to with the way your eyes seem to get lost tracing his body, but he lets you indulge in this moment, all those gruelling hours training are suddenly so fucking worth it.

“It's at the back,” Jungkook tells you before he reaches a hand back to locate the zipper, but you stopped him in his tracks.

“I'll do it, but first, could you do a bit of quick spin, couldn't admire this suit on you before you had me distracted,” you say with a twirl of your index finger as emphasis.

“Someone's being greedy tonight,” Jungkook comments, but obliges to your demands, doing a slow turn with his arms up like he's surrendering himself to you, and in a sense he is.

“Famished,” was the first word to come to mind when your eyes landed on the absolute globes that is his butt, unable to hold back, you land a smack on one of his cheeks, in complete awe when you hear the resounding smack along with the recoil of the meat.

“You did not just,” Jungkook says as he looks back to see you still staring at his butt like he's got a million dollars stacked on his butt, and he's still in complete shock at what you just did.

“It was too hard to resist,” you say before standing up from the bed to wrestle Jungkook onto the bed, his stomach connecting with the bed with a huff, internally groaning at what he's gotten himself into by falling head first with an alien being with inhuman strength.

“This is the comfiest cushion ever,” you say after you straddle Jungkook’s hips, taking a seat right on his butt.

“How much time are you gonna spend admiring my ass, Star?” Jungkook questions with a sigh, he's going to have a long night ahead of him, he's sure.

“Who said anything about your ass? It's just easier to take off your suit this way,” you lie through your teeth as you wiggle your hips, but nonetheless, you began unzipping his suit, revealing golden tan skin, and to Jungkook’s misfortune, he feels your hand tracing each ridge and curve of his back muscles, he wants to flip you over and get it on with, but he knows he has no match for you in terms of physical strength, at least not when you're in such a position.

Jungkook is anticipating your next move, but at the same time, he can't help but bask in the attention and care you're showing him, the way you'd caress every bit of skin you can get your hands on then he feels a flutter of a quick peck of your lips, as if you can just tell he's been pushing himself to the max just to do his best in protecting the city, but as you trail lower, Jungkook’s arousal once again stirs as he feels the zipper reach the end of the line, to which he just realised, he recently had Alfred tailor it to end below the curve of his butt because he was tired of yanking the suit up his butt when he's in a rush, he groans internally at the thought of you poking fun at him for having the zipper this low.

“I've never even seen dresses having zippers this low, holy shit,” you comment before landing another swat at his butt, giggling to yourself at Jungkook’s groan of annoyance, but he's willing to put up with this if it means he hears you being all joyful, even if it means he has to endure your new obsession with his butt.

What he didn't expect, however, was the feeling of canines sinking into his cheek.

“Babe, what the fuck?” Jungkook questions as he whips his head back to look at you, your head now resting on where you had just taken a bite, it wasn't by any means painful, just a mild chomp, but it took him by surprise regardless.

“Sorry, the intrusive thoughts, you know, couldn't help it, I love the texture,” you say offhandedly before taking another bite on his other cheek, lighter this time, all while Jungkook looks at you with disbelief and slight arousal swimming in his eyes, the mild ache of your teeth sending a jolt to his cock, biting back the moan that threatens to leave his lips.

“I'd like to see how you'd react if I had you spread out like this while I take a bite of your butt,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes.

“Jokes on you cuz I'd love it, now roll over, you promised me a ride,” you remind him with a gentle pat on his butt to get him moving.

“We're not even naked yet,” Jungkook says with a chuckle before he quickly shucks off his suit, sitting back down on the bed with a gesture for you to turn, but you shake your head, not needing his help, quickly unzipping your suit from the side.

“I should've had the zip on the side too,” Jungkook mutters, but all thoughts immediately cease from his head when your bare body is revealed, he had no idea you were nude under your suit.

“Cat got your tongue?” you ask as you cup his cheeks in your hands, amused at the way his eyes seem to be in a daze.

“I'm the luckiest man in the world,” Jungkook says before he stands up to maneuver his mirror to the front of his bed, a giant smile on his face like a child in a candy shop.

“Why are you suddenly redecorating your room in your boxers while I'm standing here naked?” you ask, confused at his sudden enthusiasm that is no longer directed at you.

“Wanna see the pretty faces you'll make and every little movement from this gorgeous body while I make you feel good,” Jungkook explains before he manhandles you to take a seat between his thighs on the bed, facing the mirror, and you understand Jungkook’s enthusiasm now, you've always been confident about your own body, but seeing Jungkook’s broad built behind your smaller body sends a shock southwards, the last time you've seen the two of you in front of a reflection was ages ago, and needless to say, Jungkook bulked up a lot while you were gone, you used to enjoy how the two of you were around the same height and built, but Jungkook’s new image sends a new thrill down your spine.

While you're distracted by the view in the mirror, you fail to see Jungkook’s fingers trailing to your lower lips, surprised when you felt cold air tickling your clit before Jungkook gives it a few twirls with his fingers, testing the waters, your legs shaking with the sudden pleasure running through your body.

“Still so fucking sensitive,” Jungkook mutters with a groan by your ear, his cock chubbing up beneath you, just seeing you react to his touch like this has him growing.

He rubs circles on your bundle of nerves while his other hand is occupied with fondling one of your breasts, thumbing your nipple with his fiery touch, but it's his gaze that has you dripping into his palm, the way his eyes zero in on your body, locking into every little movement, and soon he dips two fingers inside you.

“Ride my fingers, beautiful,” Jungkook commands, to which you oblige, a hand laying on Jungkook’s muscular thigh to support yourself before you begin riding his fingers at a mild pace, lifting up until just before his fingertips show before you sink down to his knuckles, moaning his name wantonly, back arching, you haven't had fingers fill you up so full in so long, your fingers petite in comparison to Jungkook’s.

You don't know what's hotter, the fact that you have Jungkook’s fingers inside you when you didn't think you even had the chance anymore, or the way he looks like he wants to devour you in the best way possible.

“Should I feed your greedy pussy one more finger? Can't ever get enough until you have my cock, am I right?” Jungkook taunts his hands still occupied with your sensitive parts, but his left hand is now on your other boob, showing the girls equal amount of love and attention, but when you're too enraptured by the pleasure clouding your mind to answer Jungkook, his hand on your breast goes to your throat, choking you lightly, getting your attention, your walls clenching on his fingers tighter, his brow quirked up in surprise, he's definitely saving this information for later.

“Answer me, baby,” Jungkook demands.

“Yes, want everything you have to give me, your fingers, your cock, anything,” you say in a rush, eager to please, especially with the promise of more pleasure.

Jungkook smiles proudly before he slips one more finger next to his other two, cursing at the way you just swallow him up, mind drifting to imagining how good he'd feel later if you feel this wet and warm around his fingers.

When you increase the pace of your hips to chase the impending high you can feel on the horizon, Jungkook pulls his fingers out with an obscene wet pop sounding between your legs, whining at the sudden loss of your pleasure.

“Patient, wanna fuck you now,” Jungkook says with a light spank, to which he's awarded with a strangled moan and a delightful jiggle of your cheek, manhandling you off his thighs to shuck off his boxers, sighing in relief, his hard cock finally free from its tight confines.

“Come sit on my cock, baby,” Jungkook demands after taking a seat back on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, watching you as you take your position above him, hovering over his length, but since you're feeling bratty, instead of immediately sinking down, you summon your powers to keep yourself aloft, his cock nudging at your core, just a little bit more and he'd be greeted by your tight walls.

“Are you being fucking for real, now, babe?” Jungkook questions, feigning annoyance, but you can right through his act.

“If I'm being real, I can do this all night,” you joke, drumming your nails on Jungkook’s muscular chest just to rile him up further, what you didn't expect, however, was that Jungkook would hook his right leg over your back to flip you over, your back hitting the bed with a soft thud, and before you can even protest about the sudden switch of positions, Jungkook restrains your wrists above your head.

“It's been years, sweetheart, I've been building muscle, we're not that far apart in terms of physical strength,” Jungkook says with a smug smirk on his face.

“You have to own up to what you just said, love,” you say, poking at the bear that is his ego.

“Oh baby, you're gonna regret teasing me,” Jungkook says with a shake of his head before he's sinking into your core with a groan, a hand bracing against the headboard as his inches bottom out, you try your hardest not to whine at the way he's filling you up so nicely, he's definitely grown from the last tryst the two of you shared before you left if that's possible.

Jungkook gives you some time to get adjusted to his size before he begins thrusting at a brutal pace, he has a point to prove and an impression to make tonight, he's going to use every ounce of strength to satisfy you if that's what it takes.

He thinks he's doing a good job at it at this moment, with the way his name is leaving your lips in broken crescendos of your beautiful moans as your walls pulse and clench around his length, and not to mention, the sweet pain of your nails digging into the back of his hand as he continues his hold onto your wrists.

“Don't want you to hold back, baby,” Jungkook says before he frees your wrists to hitch your legs higher over his back, this angle allowing him to go even deeper, and instead of the mild taps of the tip of his cock on your sweet spot, he is now hitting the spongy sensitive spot inside you with hard consistent thrusts.

You let out an almost scream of a whine as you claw the side of Jungkook’s back with your nails, to try your best to grasp onto reality as you're getting your shit absolutely wrecked.

“Am I living up to my words, darling? Or should I add more action into the mix?” Jungkook taunts before he trails a hand down between your lower lips to locate your clit once again, drawing quick and rough circles around the sensitive nub.

“Fuck,” you curse with a moan as you clench your walls around Jungkook, your release drenching his length as Jungkook increases the pace of his hips to chase his own high, his jaw clenching as he takes in the beauty of your nudity and the way you're basking in the pleasure he's giving you, your eyes fluttering as you let yourself enjoy the slight pain and immense pleasure that comes from being overstimulated, the way you just lay there and take anything Jungkook gives you, Jungkook cums inside you with a groan, giving himself a few more shallow thrusts before he sinks his cock deep inside you once more, giving into his carnal desire of wanting to have you warm his cock post fucking, the warmth of your combined releases sending a shudder down his spine, he could never deny the possessive streak he has over you, especially now that he has you again.

He thinks you're just as bad when it comes to this possessiveness when you claim his lips with your own, chewing his bottom lip before dipping your tongue into his mouth, a fight of dominance ensues before the two of you give up to pull away for oxygen with the sillies erupting from your bellies, it's so awfully familiar and refreshing at the same time, feeling this in love again after so long, all those lonely moments and yearning to be with Jungkook all don't matter now that you're back in Jungkook’s arms.

Your train of thought is interrupted by the twitching of Jungkook’s length inside you.

“Seriously?” you ask in disbelief, looking at the man beside you ludicrously.

“You told me to prove my physical strength to you and I did it, how about I show you how much training I had on physical endurance?” Jeongguk asks with a quirk of his brows and a stupid smug smile on his face that you find all too annoying and endearing at the same time.

“Oh you're on, Jeon,” you retort before proceeding to switch positions to flip him on his back, this is going to be a long night, you think to yourself giddily.

*Meanwhile at the Wayne Manor*

“Master Bruce, my apologies for interrupting your slumber, but I had just received a message from Young Master Jungkook to erase some traffic footage from tonight, you told me to keep tabs on young master, so I just thought I'd let you know about this update,” Alfred informs a sleep riddled Bruce Wayne.

“What the fuck was this kid up to?” Bruce asks before Alfred hands over a tablet, knowing that his master was going to ask.

Bruce squints at the bright screen, zooming in on the two familiar figures and their wild antics.

“Fuck’s sake, wipe this shit clean, Alfred, thank you,” Bruce says before sighing disapprovingly, Alfred holds in his laugh as he leaves his master be, bidding him goodnight.

“Don't be so uptight, Bruce, we did the same thing in your mobile just a few months ago,” Selina brushes off with a chuckle, putting the tablet aside to pull her lover back to bed.

“We did that in a car with a covered roof, love, it's not the same,” he says with a sigh, but he relents, going back to bed with a groan.

Jungkook wakes up to the warmth of your body pressed against his, breathing a sigh of relief that it wasn't a dream last night, that you are indeed back on earth and back to being together, things are finally back to normal now.

Jungkook recalls that very painful night where he had to say goodbye to you, how he felt like his world was falling apart as he was waving at your ship, it was just last week when he felt like his life had no meaning and that death would make no difference. There's days where Jungkook would just stare at the night sky at the helipad, hoping that your ship would suddenly appear to come back and pick him up, he would've chosen to live in a foreign planet if it means he could've gotten back the cosmic love he had shared with you.

Sometimes he'd stare at the Gotham skyline with a sense of hollowness, haunted by the memories of the two of you and your rendezvous around the city.

Jungkook shakes himself out of those painful memories before he allows himself a moment to bask in the joy of having you in his arms a little longer before he gets up to wash up and get an early morning workout in before you wake up.

When you finally come around, you're all freshen up, looking beautiful with a glow like no other when you come bounding in the gym with some short shorts and his tee that you slept in, wordlessly, you get on with your own routine at the side before you decide that you had enough for the day and shower off.

“Should I make brunch or you wanna head out?” you ask when you spot Jungkook coming into the kitchen with nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, choosing to direct your attention to the boring pantry instead, but what greets you is empty cupboards with nothing but cereal and instant noodles and some eggs in the fridge.

“Brunch it is,” you mutter to yourself.

“We can stock up on groceries after brunch,” Jungkook promises with a peck on your lips as he leads you back to your rooms to get dressed, trying your very best to not jump Jungkook’s bones again.

“I could've driven us, you know,” you say with a huff before you eye Jungkook’s English breakfast with slight interest, for some reason your pancakes need more time than his huge plate of breakfast food.

“Let's practice with my cheapest car on an emptier street before you start driving us around, love,” Jungkook says before he picks up some of the champion mushrooms you've been eyeing on his plate with his fork, feeding you.

“Fine,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“I would've never thought you'd actually go through with piercing your ears and getting that whole sleeve, you were still very much on the fence when I left,” you say as you reach out to gently run a finger through his piercings.

“Kinda used them as a coping mechanism if I'm being honest, but I don't regret any of it,” Jungkook says with a shrug, he doesn't need to tell you his gruelling hours at the gym to stay sane, you've known about that bad habit of his for years.

You were about to ask Jungkook to explain each and every one of his tattoos’ meanings, but you were interrupted by the arrival of your pancakes accompanied by your friends.

“I can't believe the team is back, baby!” Mingyu bellows as he slides in next to you, followed by the others, and suddenly, you feel right at home now more than ever, surrounded by the titans that you spent your youth with, looking forward to the future that's brighter than any star you've ever laid eyes upon.

#jungkook smut #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook angst

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ceruleanchillin · 1 year ago

Text

But is she really yours? (141 x Reader)

Note(s) -

It's long, so be warned.

The guys are doing a little of what we like to call Dirty Mackin, and yes, I think this is something they’d all do in their own way.

Still working on getting those accents to come through, while not stepping into cringe/wrong territory.

I apologize, this is a very messy format (borderline stream of consciousness), and I’m trying to figure out a cleaner way to do this. I hope it doesn’t hurt the reading experience.

And I am the only one who kinda wants to see the reverse scenario, where Reader tries to get the guys away from their trash gfs? 👀Thanks to @bunnyreaper for the idea, it wrote itself as I read that.

Simon:

Annoying. That was the first thing Simon thought of you. So of course you had to work at the only cafe near his flat that made tea the way he liked.

You were always on your phone, arguing with someone (he guessed a boyfriend), and he hated getting stuck at your register. The calls clearly distressed you, and he didn’t know why you kept taking them. Especially on the job.

You’d gotten his order wrong more times than he could count, and you were always having to turn around and ask him to repeat the things he wanted. It got to the point where he waited until the other barista’s line was open.

Unfortunately, other customers had done the same, and it was causing a backup.

Then there was the day. His day started as it always did on his off time. The three S’s, and then he was at the gym to get his time in when he knew it was mostly empty. Then finally, his black tea.

He sighed, mentally preparing himself for the wait before he entered. As expected, there was a line.

You were there, and you appeared to be deeply engaged in conversation with the only person at your counter.

He was surprised to see you had a customer. ‘Must not be a regular.’

As he got closer to the counter, he could overhear the whispered argument. The man wasn’t a customer at all, he presumed he was the boyfriend from the phone calls. Based on the things the two of you were saying, that made the most sense.

‘Great. Getting the live version today.’ Simon had to wonder how you kept this job. Were you the boss's daughter? Did you own a share? Could he steal enough of the signature black tea blend and go into hiding until he had to ship out again?

You looked exasperated, and your co-worker stepped over to your side, coming to your aid.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Simon groaned, realizing the wait would be longer.

He stepped outside for a cigarette, making the mental decision that if by the time he was done with it there was still a line, he would forgo his drink that day.

He chose the alley on the side of the shop, not liking the openness of the sidewalk, and staked out against the opposite building’s wall.

He was halfway past the tip of his cigarette when the side door he’d been eyeing warily opened, and out came you.

You looked frustrated, anxious, and maybe a little embarrassed. He didn’t think you noticed him, instead, walking over to the dumpster and kicking it, hard. It sent a loud, tinny groan echoing through the alley. He narrowed his eyes, feeling that itch of frustration under his skin.

You noticed him finally, and stopped angrily muttering to yourself. Instead, you started talking to him. It was mostly an uninterrupted stream of dialogue for two minutes straight (he timed it), before he could finally understand you.

“Mandatory break! That’s the second one this week, can you believe that?”

He started to say yes, and that he hoped the third one won you a prize: getting fired. He kept his mouth shut though.

“It’s not even me, it’s my boyfriend. He means well, but he just…I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” You were searching for something in your apron, but he couldn’t tell what, out of the corner of his eye.

Simon flexed his fingers, eyes narrowing until the shop’s logo mural was a blur. You found it, and walked closer to him until he turned both eyes to you.

“Can I get a light?” You gestured with the unlit cigarette between your fingers to the one burning between his lips.

“Bloody. Fuckin’. Hell, Bird! S’not enough you keep half the fuckin’ place backed up on a good day, but then you prance your arse out here to annoy me some fuckin’ more? Fuck off.” He jabbed his pointer finger at the door you’d come out of.

The alley echoed his baritone, and somehow made his outburst sharper.

You stared at him like he’d taken his head off, instead of having bitten off yours. Eyes wide, bottom lip trembling, he thought you might cry, and he began to feel guilt grow in the pit of his stomach. He’d forgotten, in the midst of you stirring up similar agitation, that he wasn’t on base talking to some recruit dumped on him.

You did cry, but once you started talking, he suspected it was more due to anger. “Fuck you! You fuck off, I work here!”

He ignored the small voice telling him ‘stop’, and fired back. “Work?” He snorted. “Real fuckin’ rich that is. Don’t confuse work with your million mandatory breaks.”

You clenched your fists, eyes wild with adrenaline and voice shrill with anger. “Go to hell. You’re just some freak in an alley who can’t remember when Halloween is. You don’t know me.”

You angrily wiped at your tears to no avail, as more quickly took their place, and then you started sobbing.

Simon sighed, feeling like shit and wishing he’d held it together just a little more. “Alright. Alright. ‘Nuff of that now.”

“I’m not crying *hic* because of you…” you huffed, trying to get your voice under control. “Just go back to your cigarette. I hope you suck it up and *hic* choke!”

He chuckled, you were the first person in a while who’d lashed back out at his harsh disposition. At least to his face. “Was uglier than I should’ve been, but won’t pretend there wasn’t some truth to it.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’re a shit barista, wanna form a band?” His lips quirked into a smirk around his near-stub cigarette.

For a beat there was silence, until the two of you burst into laughter. Yours a raucous peal of giggles, and his, raspy chuckles.

“Well, you earned that light. Got more balls then a lot of soldiers I know.”

The two of you stayed in that alley for thirty minutes just riffing off different topics. It ended with Simon giving you the friendly (read: rough) advice to not let your boyfriend cost you your job.

That’s not how he saw his day going. Having the most interesting conversation he’d had in a while with the woman who annoyed the piss out of him for the better part of his leave.

You were no longer annoying, you’d been upgraded to interesting, and that was the second thing Simon thought about you.

After your talk in the alley, Simon was pleasantly surprised to find that you’d taken his advice and stepped your skills up. It turned out, you were distracted by your boyfriend, but Simon had come to see why. He was obsessed with knowing where you were, and if you were thinking of him, and wondering if he should drop by.

Simon felt more guilt for being so impatient, and he decided no matter what, he would pick your line. That was the only reason too. It certainly wasn’t because he couldn’t stop thinking about you after your last conversation.

Sometimes you would take your breaks with him now, exhibiting that same forward nature from the alley, but it no longer annoyed him. He’d tease you about whether or not that break was mandatory, but he looked forward to it all the same.

You talked about anything and everything, from where you were from, to Simon having to explain the delicate ins and outs of football to you. (He was pretty sure you were pushing him to have a heart attack by pretending you forgot a different detail every time you talked).

It was an unstated, but mutually understood, thing that your time together fulfilled something missing for both of you. For him it was cutting into his habit of cutting off socialization until he was back on base or a mission, and for you, it was a break from your relationship.

He liked to think that you looked forward to your talks as much as he did, if your expression every time you saw him was an indicator.

Unlike him, you were an open book, so you did most of the talking. Simon soaked up everything you told him, filing it away. You were funny, and fascinating.

On his end, he was careful about some of what he shared, and nervous about other things. He had more dark or restricted anecdotes than humourous or endearing ones, and he didn’t want to bring you down. After all, you had more than enough of that to deal with.

The boyfriend. He was a nightmare of obsession and insecurity. It was perhaps your fourth break-hangout that Simon saw it completely for himself. He’d all but dragged you out of your seat, which made Simon rise from his so quickly, it almost toppled over behind him. He wasn’t unaware of his size, nor was he afraid to use it on the shorter man, but you assured him it was fine until he sat down.

Your boyfriend was panicking, wondering why you were keeping someone like him company. He wanted to know what it meant for the two of you, and Simon hated seeing you in an endless loop of begging the pathetic prick to believe you loved him. All of your humor and your cute little habits disappeared as he forced you to become a helicopter girlfriend, concerned only with his fears.

Simon decided then he would sway you away from him. He didn’t deserve you, and Simon may not have known you long, but he couldn’t stand to see you withering under him and his emotional blackmail. No one ever accused Simon of being sane.

You would be his, and that was the third thing Simon thought about you.

If he said so himself, he was slick about it. He’d forgotten about the amount of energy it took to pursue a relationship with someone, and why he limited his romantic interactions to hookups with women he found interesting.

You weren’t just interesting, he was fully infatuated with you by the time he started to actively move towards getting you away from that neurotic dumpster. You were worth the effort.

It started with seeing you outside of the cafe in a way that seemed natural. He thought about it for a while, before he settled on inviting you to a football game. He couldn’t believe he’d worried that you’d say no, your ‘yes’ came out before he was even done asking.

You were impressed with his timing, confessing that the night before, your boyfriend had thoroughly embarrassed you at a party, and you needed a fun day.

Simon had smiled tightly all through your hurried explanation that everything was fine, and that he had apologized once you got home with him.

The day of the game, you were absolutely adorable when he picked you up. Giddily introducing him to your roommate. She eyed him with approval, and even congratulated you for trading up.

Before you could correct her, he slipped in his answer. “That remains to be seen. Depends on if she embarrasses me at the game.”

You snorted, launching into that now familiar peal of giggles. “I promise I won’t. Now, which of these soccer teams is yours again? The Manfordshire Mermaids?”

“You wanna ride there on the roof?”

The trip was a better investment than he thought. You were enthralled with what was going on, the hype of the crowd, the skill of the players, and just being there in person. However, you had to rely on him to translate this new world to you, and that left you literally clinging to him in interest. Simon was your whole world in that stadium, and he locked that feeling down tightly for motivation.

Step one had gone off without a hitch, and now it was on to step two.

Outings with you became a series. Simon encouraged as many as possible in order to trigger the response he wanted.

He knew it wouldn’t be long until your boyfriend started getting antsy, and insecure again. You were going out twice as much as you had before you started hanging out with Simon outside of the cafe.

To push the matter, Simon told you his work schedule was getting hectic. It was a half truth, the training period before the announcement of a deployment had commenced, and Simon planned on having a girlfriend to come home to this time. Namely you.

He used the excuse to create later meetups. Dinners, movies, wandering the street and stumbling into things to do. All the while getting you hooked on his touch. Simon wasn’t a touchy-feely person by nature, and this was something everyone who knew him picked up on quickly. You picked up on it too, but he wanted to touch you. He didn’t though, at least not often.

Starting off with little touches that could be confused as an accident, he increased the pressure but kept the frequency low so you became addicted to his rare touches. He wanted you to feel special that someone like him indulged you in that way, so that you’d seek out more, even though HE was the one who felt blessed every time he felt your skin on his.

When you were together, he made sure things were about you. He didn’t imagine your boyfriend left much room for that with his paranoia, but he wanted to show you what you were in for once you were together.

One night, Simon kept you out later than usual. He’d stayed away from you for two weeks, which wasn’t hard, work was starting to pick up. He could’ve carved out a day or two though, but he wanted to make you crave his time like he did yours.

It worked. He scheduled a late dinner at an upscale restaurant, letting you fill him in on all that he missed. Namely, you missed being with him. You weren’t the type to keep your feelings to yourself, and you’d inevitably vented to your boyfriend about missing your friend. He didn’t like that label at all, but he liked what would come from your actions.

Periodically throughout the dinner, your phone rang, increasing in frequency as the night wore on.

You had to excuse yourself multiple times, and Simon pretended to be annoyed. In reality, he anticipated that. Each time the phone rang, you cringed and looked at him apologetically.

On what had to be the tenth time, Simon said. “Go on then, run off to pamper the pathetic bastard. Powder his arse too this time.”

Your face screwed up in objection to his barbed words. “He’s just worried…”

He shrugged. “Don’t owe me an explanation lovie. S’just a mystery why you’re in such a rush to be a nursemaid.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood up from the table. “I’m in a rush to be a good girlfriend thank you. Stop being an ass, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“S’go,” he downed the last of his bourbon before he pulled his wallet from his pocket. “I’ll pay the tab and take you home.”

“What? We’re supposed to have dessert, and then maybe a movie.”

Simon watched your distressed body language and expression with mild amusement, and he was proud of being able to hide it, even though he’d forgone his mask that night. “You’ve gotta tuck in your kid. S’not on me you won’t date a man.”

You pouted and sat back down. “If I put my phone away, you put your wallet away. You promised me dessert.”

He smirked, refusing to hide it now. This was the first time, since he’d met you, that you’d ignored your boyfriend, and it said a lot.

You did it once, so Simon was able to turn it into a habit. Your boyfriend looked increasingly unhinged as Simon made sure you starved him of your attention.

The ugly voicemails and text messages began soon after. He didn’t like that at all, and he had to remind himself the time to deal with your boyfriend would come, but he did appreciate that you were becoming less tolerant of him.

Every time you returned to Simon after having to soothe your boyfriend’s ego, and stop his tantrums, Simon made your life easier. He worshiped you in subtle ways, reminding you of what a man was, compared to a child.

There was guilt on your part, but it felt so good to be taken care of for once. To not have to worry about Simon bursting into a fit of insecurity that made you completely responsible for his feelings, and left little to no room for anything else.

When he touched you, it lit your nerve endings on fire. You knew that the touches were bordering on inappropriate, since you were still taken, but you also knew that your brain went numb with good vibrations with even just a brush of his fingertips.

Simon still kept it light, almost questionable as to whether it even happened, and you finally began to seek it out. Wearing backless tops so that his fingertips would brush your bare skin, sitting next to him in diner booths so a thick thigh was always brushing your own, going for things in high places so he’d steady you by your waist.

He never seemed to miss a beat on when and where to touch you, but it wasn’t enough.

The breaking point came when he invited you to a dinner Price was holding as a goodbye to civilian life until next leave. The verbal invitation was the most valuable thing to you in a while. Not only because you were increasingly becoming addicted to him, but because for someone like Simon to invite you into that part of his life, it meant that he was in deep with you too.

All of Simon’s friends were funny, inviting, and very taken by you. They were so polite to you, complimenting you, and telling you as much as they could about their work, trying to impress you.

You were having fun trying to keep up, but you got the impression that Simon inviting a woman he was seeing to meet them was a new thing, and they didn’t know the protocol.

You were surprised to find he went by Ghost in his field, and they were unused to hearing Simon. You shared how the two of you met, and how polite he wasn’t in your first conversation, and they weren’t surprised.

You were enjoying your time with them, the conversation never stopped, and you would venture to say Simon looked fond at times. Though, as each man became more flirtatious, his expression would change. It became an unspoken game between you and his team to try and make him speak up about it. He didn’t take the bait.

Then came the topic of your boyfriend.

“Come now love, you’re a smart girl. Why do you wanna waste your time with that bellend?” - Price

“I don’t ken what the situation here is, but if Ghost and the other one don’t appreciate you, I promise I will.” Soap

“I had a girl once, who used to follow me in her friend’s car, sit outside my apartment, and call me from different phones to test me. You’re fit as hell love, dump him.” - Gaz

It was a little embarrassing, and you were slightly annoyed that Simon had told them, but your mind kept shortening it to ‘he talked about me to his team.’

During dinner, you excused yourself to the bathroom. While you were washing your hands, Simon slipped into the room, making you jump.

Your eyes met in the mirror, where Simon just glared.

“Have fun with the boys, bird?”

“Have fun broadcasting my business?” You raised an eyebrow, but your tone held no anger to it.

Simon chuckled, locking the door. “S’not my business is it?”

You swallowed hard, shaking your head slowly.

He trapped you between the sink and himself, hands locking onto the counter on either side of you.

“Let’s fix that.” His lips pressed to the pulse point on the side of your neck, speaking his command against it. “Get rid of him lovie, and come home where you belong.”

You tried to do just that, but for the first time that you could recall, your boyfriend wasn’t taking your calls.

Simon watched you while he packed, tucked beneath his sheets where you belonged, bare. It’d been a week since you took that next step in his captain’s guest bathroom, and you’d been trying to inform your ex he was now in fact, your ex.

You gingerly rolled over to face him, mindful of all the reminders that he loved you he left your body. “Si, he’s still not picking up. I don’t want to do it over the phone, but…”

“Don’t get worked up. Maybe he got the message already...”

Kyle:

He’d re-visited Chicago on his downtime, and met you in a club. Unknown to him at the time, your boyfriend had stood you up for the third time that month, and you decided not to waste the night. It’d made you so free and enthralling to watch, he couldn’t look away.

Gaz spent the entire night with you, glad he’d ignored the jet lag, even when you took him to all the best after-hours spots.

The only problem was your boyfriend, Keith, who Gaz personally believed formed in the bottom of a toilet, and sought life elsewhere. His team thought he was delusional, and/or giving you too much thought.

“You hitting the States again then? Don’t get in the kind of trouble that you can’t get out of because you’re jealous.” - Price

“Garrick! Get your fuckin’ head off your cock, and on the exercise, before I shove my boot down your throat!” - Ghost (after he fumbled a training exercise twice)

Except for Soap, Soap backed his delusions %1,000. “She let you charge your phone when hers needed it more? That’s wedding bells lad, and I wanna be best man.”

Then there was the relentless teasing every time he spent his leave with you, but Gaz didn’t care. He couldn’t bother being embarrassed when you were waiting for him. Your grin was for him, your excited laughter was for him, and your hug was for him. The one he always held longer than friends do, his heart racing when you relaxed in his hold. Smirking when he felt your nose brush over chest quickly. You were sheepish when he grinned down at you, realizing what you were doing.

You’d gotten him cologne on his first (date) daytime hangout with you. You’d been strolling through the mall, Gaz trying to make you forget about the ugly scene he’d walked into between you and your boyfriend when he arrived at your place.

You’d been so sad, and it didn’t suit you at all. He just wanted to take you out of that environment, and let your real-self blossom again.

His hand brushed with yours, pinkies locking and unlocking so he could feel his stomach dip again and again.

He was able to slowly bring you back, into a little world of inside jokes and friendly culture clashes. Gaz fully had you back by the time he stopped in front of an expensive looking fragrance shop and said:

“You know what? I need a new aftershave, but I’m clueless about shopping for that stuff.”

“Uh, aftershave?” you’d looked puzzled, peering into the store window. “Do they even sell that here?”

He let out a confused laugh, pointing at the bottles on the glass shelf. “We’re looking at it, so I’d guess yes.”

“You mean cologne?” you gave him your first real smile since you’d gotten there, and Gaz forgave yet another correction in favor of it.

“Get in here, and help me find an aftershave.”

He proposed that you guys find the perfect scent for the other and buy it as a gift. The two of you spent the better part of thirty minutes teasing and sniffing each other. Every time Gaz lifted a part of your arm or wrist to his nose, he let his lips brush across your skin accidentally.

“Kyyylee..” you whined every time, making him stir in the right places at the wrong time.

Eventually you both settled on something for the other, but Kyle slyly placed himself in the position of paying for both. The thought of you paying never having been a real thing in his mind.

“You’ll get it next time, love.”

He treasured that scent, you’d specifically picked it out for him, and he’d savored the look you gave him when you’d finally found it. Now he was in front of you again.

“Yeah, it’s the one you bought me. Did me a good turn with that. I get compliments like they get paid to give ‘em.”

“Who’s complimenting you?” you asked, your wince revealing it’d probably come out sharper than you meant for it to.

Gaz didn’t mind, he liked you as jealous as he was.

He chuckled, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Just..other girls with good taste.”

Your pout and sharp head turn went right on display in the mental gallery he had of you. He couldn’t resist teasing you again.

“Are you wearing the one I picked.” he leaned down hovering just over your neck where he knew you could feel the soft puffs of breath on your neck. He heard your breath hitch when he hummed, confirming that you were.

“I am, and don’t worry about who’s complimenting it, since you have sooo many of your own.”

Gaz laughed as you yanked him after you with a huff. If he was delusional, you weren’t helping.

This visit was going how he imagined it, and he intended to end it exactly that way too. Finally getting that bastard out of a picture he should’ve never been a part of.

When clubbing, Kyle kept you close. You both loved to dance, and every song that came on seemed out to prove that your bodies were built to fit together like a puzzle.

He took an interest in your life, wanting to see what you got up to when he wasn’t there. You’d resisted, thinking it’d bore him. It did not.

He enjoyed meeting your co-workers, and eating at the cafe you loved a block from your job. You even took him to spend an afternoon with your family. Every time he scored a point with them, you gave him this dreamy expression he was determined to see for the rest of his life.

When he suggested making plans with your friends, so they didn’t feel like you were ignoring them while he was there, you were thrilled at how considerate he was, and he got the pleasure of overhearing you hype him up to your friends while you invited them out to do something.

It was you blocking your girlfriends every time one of them tried to push the flirtation with him too far, that let him know it was time.

He decided he would make his move when the two of you were having a movie night at your place. It wasn’t ideal, because that piece of shit was lingering around the place. Kyle hated that you lived together, but wouldn’t let that interfere. He had work to do.

“Kyyyleee.” you giggled, dragging his name out the way he loved when he ran a finger down your cheek to your neck, complimenting your skin.

“Just admiring your skin routine. You’ve gotta share.”

Or, when he shivered, and you instinctively extended your blanket to him. He took it without question, trying not to think about all of the things you could do under a shared blanket. Although, your boyfriend walking in and out of the room, pretending he had things to get out of the kitchen, made the thought more enticing.

You’d invited him to watch in earnest, and he’d just cut you down in a way that made Kyle quickly remind him he was in your apartment, because he’d lost his job, and had nowhere else to go. That you’d sweetly taken him in, and that he should remember that.

He enjoyed kicking him down while raising you up.

Your boyfriend finally just sat at the kitchen table in the dark, fuming. The living room was visible to him from there, but Kyle was glad to have him as an audience to him reminding you of your worth.

You two exchanged snacks and commentary, easily ignoring the unwanted third party.

“No offense love, but beer here is straight piss.”

You laughed, stealing one of the cookies left on his plate. “Beer tastes like that in general.”

“How would you know? You’ve never been anywhere.” your boyfriend snapped at you nastily, from where he’d been glaring at the two of you for an hour. “And why don't you go back to jolly old England if you hate it so much?”

Gaz lazily rolled his head in his direction, body language shouting how much he didn’t respect him. “Mate, you’re being a right prick right now. It’s not like you bought the beer, or anything else you’ve been shoving in that hole.”

Your boyfriend leapt to his feet, fast enough to knock over the chair. “Come over here and repeat that teacup.”

“Blud, that’s not what you want.”

“Kyle don’t, he’s just drunk and embarrassed. Ignore him when he’s like this.” you quickly passed a hand over the back of his, but he just gave you a soft smile instead.

“That’s his problem, he embarrassed himself. Why don’t you go in the back and find something to do.” He was so effortlessly dismissive, that your boyfriend mistook this for being unprepared to fight.

Kyle’s one rule for his plan was that he wouldn’t physically handle your boyfriend unless he got physical with you. He’d planned to show you how you should be loved, and let a smart girl like you do the rest. That went out the window.

He kept it clean, the other man was stocky, but didn’t stand a chance against his training. If you hadn’t been there, he might’ve taken it further, grinding his hatred of him into harsher blows. Instead, he gave him quick, almost surgically effective, blows to put him down. He was too intoxicated and unskilled to retaliate.

“See, he just needed a nap.” Gaz tried to lighten the mood.

“I’m so embarrassed,” you whispered. “I don’t know why he’s always like this now. He didn’t use to be. I just want this to stop.”

Kyle shushed you, crossing the room to pull you into his arms. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. You’ve been dealing with this for too long.”

“I’m so tired.” you admitted, clutching his soft shirt, and inhaling his scent (your scent, that you gave him) that made your eyes roll back in your head. He was so solid, warm, and a darker word popped into your mind, ‘mine.’

“You’ve been so good to everyone, too good. Let me take care of you.” he whispered, hands roaming from your lower back to cup your ass.

He heard the hybrid of a whimper-moan, and it had him at attention before you were done.

“I’d be just like him…” you trailed off weakly.

“That’s not possible.” He lowered his lips to yours, giving you the first kiss from him that couldn’t possibly be mistaken as platonic. You kissed back without any hesitation, not even willing to pull away when he started to lead you to the back. To your room.

Hate him as he did, Gaz noted somewhere in his mind how dark the scenario was. The location, and situation, in which he was about to fulfill the second-to-last step of his plan was kind of fucked.

He cupped your jaw in both hands,“Babe…we can go back to my room at the hotel.”

He didn’t want to. He wanted to erase any trace of him here, starting in your room. He wanted you everywhere he could have you in the apartment, and he wanted him to come to just enough to hear it.

“Makes no sense. Too far. Here.” you murmured, pupils blown wide.

Gaz didn’t need to be told twice. You were barely able to string a sentence together, and it was top three one of the hottest things he’d ever heard.

“Yes ma'am.”

Kyle didn’t doubt you’d complete the final step in the morning, and officially dump the forgotten man on the floor.

Johnny:

You and Johnny met through social media. He thought you were gorgeous and, being John “Soap” MacTavish, couldn’t leave your profile without letting you know. Though he threw in some playful critique.

You responded with a thanks, and a challenge for him to do the picture better. It resulted in a months-long photo battle that quickly became a real friendship.

Late phone calls, video calls, and constant strings of texting built a whole world between the two of you.

You were the highlight of his day sometimes, especially when he’d been gone awhile. You helped him reconnect with the world after shutting it out to defend it.

The only problem was your boyfriend. Johnny prided himself on being able to get along with all kinds of people. It was just in his nature. Hate was so rarely felt by him, that he always had trouble identifying it when he felt it.

He felt hate for your boyfriend, and it didn’t take him long to figure that out. He thought he didn’t deserve you. He was always talking to you reckless, like he didn’t have the most beautiful woman in the world in his life. Johnny wouldn’t talk to you like that, he wouldn’t have time to even consider it for all the worshiping of you he’d be doing.

He’d cheated, only to make you feel like that was on you, and you took him back.

When Johnny heard your pained sobs for the first time, he’d been halfway through texting Simon to ask for help with a dark favor before he was able to talk himself down.

It was then Johnny realized how much you’d come to mean to him, and that only made him hate your boyfriend more.

Your conversations ranged from anything to everything, but they always ended with you venting, and Johnny comforting. He didn’t mind it, in fact, most times he initiated it.

He realized, he must mean a good deal to you too, because you got all your comfort from him. Johnny’s thoughts mattered to you, and you sought his advice all the time. He hated what for, but he loved that you did.

“He didn’t even like the dress Johnny. I told him you thought of it, and he accused me of wanting to wear it for you.” your screen shook violently as you stomped into your bedroom, sending said garment sailing through the air.

“M’sorry to hear that. I meant what I said when you showed it to me in the shop. Any guy that doesn’t lose it to you in that dress deserves to be committed.”

You sniffed, choking out a humorless chuckle. “I’m glad you liked it at least.”

“Oh, you don’t ken how much sweetheart. In fact, put it on for me again.”

Six months into the friendship, he convinced you to come visit him in Scotland. You’d been having more trouble with your boyfriend than usual, living with him didn’t exactly give you a lot of places to take a breather.

Once Johnny confirmed he hadn’t hurt you physically, he’d switched to coaxing you into coming to see him for a couple of weeks.

“C’mon bonnie, I’ve been stateside more times than I can count. You haven’t been here once.” He watched you do your bedtime routine, as the sun came up in the windows behind him.

He loved how despite being countries away, the moment felt as intimate as if you were with him. In his home, getting ready to come to bed with him. Except if you were, he’d tell you not to bother brushing your hair. You’d just have to do it again later.

You laughed as you ran a comb through your hair. “It’s not like you came here for me Johnny. We didn’t even know each other the last time you were here.”

“So…you’ll return the favor later. Be my pretty tour guide.”

You wound up in Scotland barely a week later. A suitcase full of clothes haphazardly thrown into it.

“I don’t even know what I packed, it's a mess!”

Cue Johnny, who can’t quit hugging you, and they feel less and less platonic. “Don’t worry ‘bout it bon. I’ll find somewhere for it all to go.”

Somewhere turns out to be designated drawers and shelves, that he’d cleared in advance, for your clothes and bath products. Johnny putting them away himself like the simp for you he is. All the while distracting you from stating how you wouldn’t be there long, and you don’t need all that space.

“We’ll see.”

Johnny had been coaxing less and less innocent behaviors out of you all week, and just worshiping you when he wasn’t. You were a worked up hybrid of desperation, and restored self-confidence. It was addictive, and you started to lean into Johnny’s touches and kisses. You pretended you didn’t hear his murmured dirty statements so he’d have to try again and again.

It came to a head when you finally accepted a video call from your pathetic boyfriend.

You were in Johnny’s living room, wearing his favorite football jersey, with him behind you, absolutely refusing to make himself scarce. You didn’t want to take the call anyway, but Johnny convinced you it’d be good for closure.

Your boyfriend started going off, yelling about how you didn’t respect him or your relationship, and demanding that ‘you bring your ass home’.

“The thing of it is lad, there’s not really anything about this relationship to respect.” Johnny slipped around to your side, tilting your head up to press his lips to yours.

You hummed in surprise, but all of his gentle touches and sweet kisses over the week had you pliant. You immediately responded, squeezing his arm when he slipped his tongue into your mouth as a tease.

He pulled away, looking way too smug, and looking all the more impossibly-handsome for it. “Say bye to your ex-boyfriend then bon. The rest of this isn’t for him.”

You gurgled something like goodbye as you slammed the lid on your laptop, attention still fully on Johnny.

John Price:

Price thought your fiance should crawl in a fire and stay there. Yeah. He wasn’t ashamed.

The man was garbage, and hardly worth you giving him a glance, let alone this much sacrifice. You’d moved countries for him, happy to make your home with him because of his job. He treated it as though that should’ve been a given.

That’s how Price had gotten to know you. You lived in the apartment across the hall from him, and the first moment you smiled at him, John was a goner.

You introduced yourself with a smile, your pretty little hand extended out towards him. He’d stood there, wishing he hadn’t worn his ratty sweatshirt with his old football team logo in fading letters. You looked gorgeous, hair framing your face, slightly out of breath from lugging in your things.

He’d stumbled in his mind until he finally remembered proper social protocol. “Price…Captain John.” He cleared his throat. “Captain John Price.”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’, you were visibly intrigued.“Captain? You’re in the military.”

“Yes.”

“Well…thank you for your service.”

Normally, John didn’t react to that line as expected. He’d heard it enough times to wish he had a pound for every time, but that was about it. He didn’t do his job for thanks, and sometimes felt they shouldn’t be for him anyways.

Coming from you however, it was different. He had the reaction he knew most people wanted. He knew from the heat in his cheeks and the tips of his ears, they were red.

Your fiancé, who’d appeared in the doorway behind you, stole his chance to answer.

“Yeah, thanks or whatever. (Y/N), come in here and figure out where you want your hair crap to go. I’m just going to toss it anywhere in a moment.”

“Oh, you could’ve just put it under the sink.”

“You should be getting ready anyways, we have a dinner engagement.” He adjusted his shirt cuffs, eyeing John like he was picturing ways he could kill him.

John wanted to see him try just one.

“Bye John,” you gave a wave, a soft smile on your lips. “I’ll see you.”

You disappeared inside, leaving the two men in a stare down. There was a silent conversation at play, what your fiancé wanted to say was stated without a word. How much John cared about that was conveyed in the same manner.

Your fiancé broke first, slamming the door behind him.

“We’ll see if I’ll stay away.” He muttered, going into his own place.

Over that first month, you two got to know each other well. Your fiance was often at work, and you turned to John with your questions as you tried to settle into your new home. You had no one else there, and even though John had planned to decompress in complete isolation, he couldn’t do that to you. Didn’t have a part of his being that wanted to.

However, as John got to know you, he got to know your fiance too. Enough to know if he was ever going to murder someone outside of work, it’d be him.

It started with small things like what takeout you should go for, or which grocery store did he use? It seemed your fiance was useless.

One day, you needed help putting together your beauty table. You’d come to John, clearly embarrassed, and something told him you’d debated on asking him for a while. Your fiance refused, because you hadn’t paid attention when you were checking out, and didn’t select the construction help option.

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me love. You mean to tell me that he never made a mistake?” John was already coming out of his apartment, ready to help.

“It’s stupid, but I don’t feel like arguing with him over it. We’re in an ok place right now.” you laughed awkwardly, leading him inside.

“Ok probably isn’t a place you want to be when you’re headed for the church.” it came out of his mouth before he could think about how it wasn’t his place.

He was so used to being blunt, and dealing out cold, hard facts or opinions. It always took him a minute to readjust to what was appropriate, but by then he was back on duty.

You looked stunned, clearly not expecting that from him. Your arms crossed defensively, giving him a side glance while you mulled over responding.

He meant what he said, but he never would’ve delivered it to you that way, or at all, if he had thought two seconds more.

“‘M sorry. It’s really not my place is it?” he gestured to the back of the apartment. “Where do you need me?”

There were many more opportunities to spend time with you, and with them, opportunities to point out the toxicity he was seeing. It wasn’t in John’s nature to ignore obvious problems, he got paid to do the opposite. He had to resign himself every time so he didn’t upset you.

With every time he gave you directions, or answered a local cultural difference that confused you, you two lingered in each other’s presence a little longer. He wasn’t going to spoil that.

Your requests started to leave the territory of furniture building and directions, and started to cross more into trying a new recipe, and how you could do better at fitting into your new home. Your conversations started to get deeper, more information about each other being shared.

There were times where you dropped off food, having made too much, or your fiance didn’t want what you cooked. John loved your cooking as it was, he normally lived off whatever he could grab and nuke, but he threw in extra enthusiasm for spite and your pretty smile.

Sometimes John found reasons to come over to your place.

“Share a cake love? Don’t get excited, I picked it up at the shops.” “Just bringing back your bowl.” “I can take a look at that window if maintenance is still laying about.”

And without fail, you made him stay every time. You got lonely, and you still knew very few people in the area outside of him. Your fiance didn’t seem to care, he felt he’d set you up with plenty of friends in his circle. John called them posh knobheads, and you couldn’t agree more. You had nothing in common with them, and you always wound up back with John to vent.

He found it easier to talk to you than he had anybody else, and from the never ending conversation between you two, he guessed you felt the same. The topic of the nature of your relationship was verboten, but that was fine by him. By that point, he was more interested in making you forget you even had a fiance. He really hadn’t even made an effort to do it, it just tilted that way, and he leaned into it.

You weren’t exactly stopping his flirtatious comments, in fact, you seemed to light up in ways he hadn’t seen until then.

Then came the outings. As your fiance got more negligent, you got bolder. It started with you taking a chance to invite John to a movie when you two bumped into each other in the mailroom. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to the cinema, and he couldn’t say what was playing if someone held a gun to his head, but ‘don’t see why not’ fell out of his mouth with no resistance.

Then it was shopping together, or you dragging him to a museum and him bullshitting his art knowledge to make you laugh. He didn’t normally spend his time off being this active socially. He decompressed, and prepared for the next assignment. Maybe he’d meet a woman at a pub and bang out some release before getting back into formation.

He’d wondered if he would regret doing things differently on his next deployment, but that stopped the first time someone mistook the two of you for a couple. That alone would’ve been enough for him to keep his delusions (that he definitely did not have) going, but it was the fact that you didn’t correct them. It happened again, and if he thought he imagined things, he hadn’t. You never corrected the person, just gave a coy smile and accepted the compliment.

Well if you didn’t, he certainly wasn’t going to.

The final time that John could say he only found you attractive, instead of wanting you completely, you’d come to him to ask him if he could drive you to a little farmer’s market outside of the city. Things hadn’t been going well with you and your fiance.

You didn’t have to tell John, he could attest to that himself. He’d heard your arguments in his place, and between the noise level, and trying to make sure it didn't go to a place where you weren’t safe, he wasn’t getting much sleep.

Your plan was to cook your fiance a favorite meal from his childhood, using nothing but farm fresh ingredients. You figured that all you needed to get things on track was a quiet night in, focused on reminding each other why you were engaged. John nearly bit through his tongue to keep himself from bringing up the fact that it seemed the workload on maintaining the relationship fell solely on your shoulders.

Instead, he shoved his bucket hat on his head, and lied about needing to head out that way anyways.

The car ride started out quiet on his part, with you filling in the conversation. Price may have flexed his fingertips in jealousy more times than he could count, but you were so goddamn beautiful when you were excited. It almost hurt to look at you head on, so he gave you side glances to show he was listening.

At the market, your excitement didn’t die down. In fact, it turned into infectious playfulness. You two teased each other, engaged in playful scams to get more samples, and dared each other to come up with crazier and crazier stories about yourselves for the owner of each stall you visited.

Price would die twice before he admitted that he imagined you were on a date a couple times during the day. You never brought your fiance up, and he had to remind you to check your grocery list more than once.

It was late afternoon when you returned to the car, laden with goodies and constructing inside jokes. John was enjoying his time with you so much, he almost forgot he had to tell you he was shipping out the following week. He didn’t know if you’d care so much as to need an announcement in advance, but he felt he should.

He was worried about you, and he would think of you wherever he was bound to wind up, hoping you’d come to your senses and leave the garbage behind. Of course, he’d miss you…and he certainly wasn’t under any delusion that when you’d taken out the trash, maybe you’d consider him.

“Why’re you so quiet?” you’d squeezed his bicep to get his attention, and he instinctively pushed his arm into your hands, encouraging the touch.

It was quiet for a moment, before you slowly uncurled your fingertips, and placed your hands in your lap. His face flooded with embarrassed warmth.

Had he gone too far by leaning into the physical?

Price white-knuckle-gripped the steering wheel, swallowing down what he thought was a rejection he had no right to be hurt about, and cleared his throat. “Right. I’m heading out next week, and it won’t be short. Just thought you should know.”

Whatever reaction he expected from you, it wasn’t the one you gave.

“What?” You placed a hand on your chest, and then rolled your eyes. “Well that’s great.”

John gave you a bewildered expression, and it must've shown, because you quickly straightened up and faced forward.

“I don’t know about great, but it is my job. The one I was quite clear about when we first met.”

“Pull over.” you said so quickly, he wasn’t even sure you’d heard his response.

“What? Why? Are you feeling il-”

“No..just..please.” you gestured to the side of the road.

He obliged, brows drawn tight and carrying all of his questions. “Your boy is going to be home soon, and we still have a bit of a drive ahead of us. What-”

“I wanted to come here because of you.” you breathed out, still facing forward, your posture almost impossibly rigid.

“Me? You’re not making much sense (Y/N).”

You huffed, and when you turned to him, your expression took his breath away. In that moment he could read every thought you were thinking, and it would’ve bowled him over if he wasn’t sitting.

He felt electricity beneath his skin, the feeling he got any time he was about to do something drastic and dangerous.

It was the little hidden thing in your eyes that he couldn’t place that gave him pause.

“I came here, because I wanted to get away with you for today. I needed to.” you turned your whole body to him. “I don’t give a fuck about fresh ingredients for him, he probably won’t eat it anyways.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “We agreed to start over. And I’m going to try, I really am, but…I still can’t stop feeling need.”

In the looming silence, all John could do was scratch his beard, and try not to look as stupid as he was sure he did. He knew what you were saying, what you were toeing at, but surely you were just venting. You couldn’t-

“S’not right love.” Now it was his turn to look ahead. “Not for him, fuck him. For you. You’re upset and you’re scared, and you're raw.”

“And I need this.” you breathed. “If you’re trying to protect me, stop. If you don’t want me in that way..ok, I’m a big gi-”

“Oooh,” his voice came from deep in his chest, baritone thrumming through the car. “That’s not it. I promise you, that’s.not.it.”

Your fingertips gently pulled his face in your direction. “You’re leaving me…and when you get back things are going to have to be different.”

There it was. John swallowed, hard.

“I’m being selfish, but..I thought I’d have a little more time with you before..” Your eyes watered. “It’d be one thing if you really were just my friend, but that’s not right is it?”

John wiped at your eyes with his thumb before cupping his cheek in his hand. “No, it’s not.”

“Just one time.”

It was a struggle to say no to you, and that didn’t stop now. He pulled your mouth to his, hands gripping your shoulders in a subconscious effort to prove this was happening. You were in front of him, kissing him back as hard as he was kissing you.

He unbuckled you, and pulled you into his lap, sliding the seat back.

“I’m gonna miss you.” you were crying now, and neither one of you did anything about the tears.

His hands cupped the back of your head, fingers gently threading through your hair. “Oh, sweet girl. Why didn’t you meet me sooner?”

What transpired after was the most bittersweet moment he could recall. He had heartbreaks and troubled relationships before, but he’d never had to have a breakup with a woman he wasn’t sure he’d been seeing in the first place, but knew that he loved.

He took you twice in his car, before finally, the two of you could no longer ignore the setting sun and had to return home.

John remembered why he preferred to take a girl somewhere quickly, and then spend the rest of his leave in solitude, occasionally seeing a trusted friend. It wasn’t as fulfilling as what he had with you, but it didn’t hurt this deeply either.

He sat in his apartment for hours after he watched you disappear into your own. He didn’t even bother turning on a light when it got too dark, he just sat there, continuing to contemplate how things had gotten to be such a mess. How could he continue to pride himself on being the logical leader he thought he was, when he’d made such a mess of himself so quickly?

How was he supposed to forget you? How was he supposed to forget that he loved you, and that you loved him with another man’s ring on your finger?

The thought of seeing you, carrying your fiance’s child, and looking miserable during what should’ve been one of the happiest times of your life made Price leap from the couch. That familiar electricity raising every hair on his person to a point.

He didn’t know what he was doing, or what he was going to say, but he was moving like he’d planned it for months.

When he stepped into the hall, he paused.

You were sitting on the plush hall couch, eyes puffy, with a death grip on a pyrex dish. Your hair was perfectly styled, and you were wearing a low-cut silken dress that made him want to fall to his knees now that he knew what lay beneath. Your eyes widened at the sight of him, trying to curb your sniffles.

“I was right, he wouldn’t eat it. He got mad and left.”

“You should’ve made him wear it instead.” John’s fist clenched at his side, itching to do what he wanted from the moment he first saw him get short with you.

You shook your head, rising to your feet. “I don’t blame him this time. I didn’t make it for him, anymore than I shopped for it with him in mind, and I told him so.”

You held up the dish, and John saw it was his favorite. His idea of a perfect Sunday roast in one pot. Your meaning was clear.

“I just kept thinking, it shouldn’t be this hard. I mean, it shouldn’t be, right?” you stepped forward.

“No, it shouldn’t be.” He also took a step forward.

“It’s not that way with you.” Another step.

“I would hope not.” he also took another step

You stopped when all that separated the two of you was the dish.

“So this belongs to me then?” he was staring at the dish, but his hands gently grasped your wrists.

You, however, were looking directly at him when you breathed out. “Yes.”

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missadangel · 8 months ago

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The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x OC)

All Chapters List

III. The Intention

"Veritas Odit Moras"

Truth Hates Delay.

"Septimia Aurelia, do you know how much I have searched for you, my lady?"

You regarded him with surprise and were rendered speechless.

The man carefully looked around and then grabbed your wrist to move you to a more secluded spot against the wall. "You've got a lot of attention, dressing like this, it's pretty clear who you are. When did you get here? You've read the letter? Have you told anyone about it? I hope you haven’t."

Your heart was racing, your ears were ringing, and the man's voice sounded distant.

"May I ask who you are, sir?"

How is it possible that you knew nothing while he knew so much more than you?

“I’m Macrinus, my lady. You might not remember me; you were too young. I’m the one who took you to Vicius.”

Vicius was your uncle's real name, the one your father had mentioned in the letter.

“I went to Egypt to find you as your father ordered. However, Vicius was reluctant; I’m not blaming him, but—” he glanced over your shoulder as if he was looking for something behind you."How did you return to Rome? Where is he now?"

You tried to understand what he said, but it was very difficult, too much for one day.

"He has passed away, and I was brought here as a captive," you said in a low voice, your eyes bright with tears as you recalled him once more—especially in this way—stung you anew.

He touched your shoulder. "It seems that your return was unfortunate. You must have opened the letter. You didn’t lose it, did you?"

You dabbed at your eyes with the tips of your fingers, wiping away the tears. "It doesn't matter now, sir. I was brought here as a slave."

“What slave? You are the daughter of a divine emperor. Who purchased you? Who is your master?”

You remained expressionless and refused to give him the General's name. You knew it might put him in a difficult position and you had no intention of trusting him."Sir, I am a slave, and I must live as one."

"You can't be serious, please. This is your birthright, and you must demand what you deserve."

"How?"

"I will present it to the Senate, and it is likely to receive their support. However, I must first weaken Geta," he stated firmly and decisively.

“But-."

"I have to go now before they get suspicious. I will help you. I’ve promised your father."

“Sir I-"

"I have a lot to tell you. Trust me and wait," he said, striding across the temple..

This man claimed to be a friend of your father's, but you were uncertain whether to trust him. The situation was a significant source of distress for you, both mentally and physically. You felt a sense of nausea, pressing your hand and then your arm against the wall in an attempt to regain your composure. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to your arm, attempting to gain control of your thoughts. At that moment, you heard a voice you recognized calling out to you.

"My Lady!" Octavius hurried over to your side, looking concerned.

When you opened your eyes, you saw his sandals first because you were glancing down to ground, you then lifted your head up.

“Are you well? Did someone hurt you?” He looked around angrily, ready to draw his sword. You put out your hand and stopped him.

“Calm down, sir. I'm fine."

Octavian pulled his hand away, taken aback by your touch. “I've been looking for you everywhere. The general sent me to find you, he was worried.”

You brushed a few strands of hair from your face with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry, I got a little nervous in the crowd and pulled away."

"Yes, it was unexpected for everyone. The emperors were in a hurry to get to the games, so they cut the ceremony short. I couldn't get you to the carriage in time. Forgive me."

"You still treat me like a lady, sir," you teased him.

He smiled. "If you don't mind, I'd like to keep it up. Shall we? The games are about to begin."

He gestured to the waiting carriage in the distance.

You were mesmerised by the splendour of this building, sitting in the part of the Colosseum intended for slaves and others. From your vantage point, you surveyed the area where the emperors and the General were seated, though they were not clearly visible from your distance. However, when they stood and advanced to deliver their opening speeches, you could see them more distinctly in their white shawls.

Caracalla and Geta raised their hands and greeted the crowd, while they chanted their names repeatedly loudly.

"People of Rome! Today, we gather to honor the glorious, greatest General Marcus Acacius.”

Applause and voices rose as Geta extended his hand to the General, you were filled with excitement. He took his hand, came forward and raised his hand. He looked up at the top bleachers and searched the crowd, his eyes determined to find you, but it was hard from such a distance.

Caracalla grasped the General's other hand. He was between them, the crowd now chanting all three of their names.

"Are you ready to see these magnificent, mind-blowing games to celebrate his extraordinary achievements?”

When the crowd responded enthusiastically in the affirmative, Geta and Caracalla shouted excitedly at the same time.

“Then let the games begiiiiiiiiiiiin!”

The thick iron gates of the arena rumbled open and two chariots thundered in, their arrival accompanied by the roar of trumpets and the beating of drums. They circled round the arena and stopped in front of the general and the emperors. While the emperors applauded them enthusiastically, the soldiers in charge ordered them to step aside and the chariots moved forward, their warriors saluting the crowd.

“Now, Gladiatoooooors!” Geta shouted and pointed to the other door. The crowd continued to cheer louder when they saw the iron-armored warriors coming out one by one. Every step was a sharp noise, echoing through the arena. The gladiators, seven in number, turned to the emperors and saluted them.

“Ave Imperatores, morituri te salutant!” Hail Emperors, those who are about to die salute you!

Caracalla looked at the General, smiling widely.

“Today, the speech is yours, General Acacius!” he shouted and clasped his hand, and sat on his throne.

"Spur them on, you're the expert, I want to see some blood,” Geta said to the general with a wink and sat on his throne, legs crossed, clapping. From a distance, you couldn't hear them or see his face clearly, but you were certain the General was not pleased. As the General raised his arms in the air, the crowd fell silent, and the shouting died down, allowing you to rest your ears a little.

“As a soldier, I can tell you this: When you engage in combat, it is important to maintain a positive mindset and avoid thoughts of defeat. You must only think about winning! However, winning is not easy, not just about killing your enemy or defeating him. Absolutely not. Winning is about being remembered with honor, like a hero, even if you die in the end! A true soldier most likely, is not afraid of death. Neither is a true gladiator! He embraces it, caresses it, and even defies it! Today, we want to see a real gladiator who can kill death itself! Prove you can achieve it and make your emperors proud! Fight with honor and win the crowd!”

The general's speech was a roaring success, prompting a rapturous response from the assembled crowd. The drums beat again, and the gladiators raised their swords in salute to the general and gathered together in a defensive position.

He was the real deal: a genuine commander and warrior. He made your heart beat fast and you admired him.

As the battle between gladiators and other warriors commenced, you began to feel a certain degree of apprehension. You had seen blood and wounded people before, of course, but this was not the point. The point was that these warriors, whose bodies were being ruthlessly cut and torn apart, were being watched with enthusiasm and laughter by the crowd. You were grateful for the top stand, thankful that you were watching from there. You knew you wouldn't have been able to bear to see such an atrocity up close.

The warriors in the chariot had lost all their horses, also torn apart mercilessly, they jumped down and attacked the gladiators with their spears, killing, and butchering a few in the process. Only two gladiators and three warriors remained. They all had cuts on exposed parts of their bodies and blood oozing from their injured areas, but they were completely focused on survival and didn't have time to care. The dusty floor of the Colosseum was stained red, and the smell of blood wafted around in clouds of dust, like the smell of red-hot iron. The gladiators roared their triumph as they slew the last of the warriors, and their voices echoed throughout the Colosseum. The sounds of drumbeats, applause, whistles, cheers, curses, and laughter filled the air.

The emperors rose to their feet and expressed their approval and support for the gladiators through applause and cheers. Once their orations had concluded, the gladiators proceeded through the reopened iron gates, whereupon the drumming ceased. The sole remaining auditory stimulus was the noise of the crowd. The general and emperors were no longer visible, so you decided to leave, as the noise was already causing a headache.

Your legs were aching as you descended the steps, but it was just as hard to get down as it was to get up. After all, you had watched from the top and it was quite high. You had never been up to such a high building before and you were certain that you would never go up again.

When you reached the ground floor, you looked around, but there was no one you recognized. Senators and other dignitaries were leaving the Coliseum one by one, talking among themselves about the evening banquet. You weren't sure that the General would take you there. He was nowhere to be seen, but you kept looking for him. When you took a few steps in the opposite direction to where the people were coming from, you were frightened that you might meet your brothers. When you saw a white shawl his wearing, you approached the General, who was talking to one of the senators. He turned his head and saw you. But you noticed the emperors were walking towards you from another direction. You reeled back in shock and turned on your heel. You were never prepared to see them so close. You strode through the exit and headed for the stairs. Since already climbed and descended quite a few stairs today your feet were no longer firmly planted on the ground. As you quickly went down, you suddenly lost your balance and found yourself on the ground. You shivered when you felt the cold stones against your skin and scowled at the women nearby who were laughing at you as you tried to figure out what had happened. You sat down on the marble stairs, heard his voice and footsteps hurrying down behind you, and soon felt the breeze from his shawl caress your back."Aya!" The General reached out, grasped your hand gently, and lifted you up.

"Are you alright?" He checked your feet and then your face, clearly concerned.

“Ah, as always, our General is a gentleman, isn't he, brother?”

Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when you heard Caracalla's voice so close. They must have seen the General holding your hand so you immediately withdrew them from the General's and stepped back, bowing your head. However, they were already descending the stairs slowly, their gaze fixed on you.

“Indeed, aren’t you going to introduce us to this beautiful lady, General Acacius?” Geta asked curiously. From where he stood, he looked taller than the general.

“Is she your secret lover or something?” Caracalla chuckled, tilting his head to see your face clearly.

“My emperors, the carriage has arrived,” you could have sworn you'd heard that voice before. When you looked at her, the Empress Julia Domna stared at you raising her eyebrows and came a little closer. You averted your eyes, the feeling that you had seen this woman before took over your whole body and made you even more nervous than your brothers did.

“We just met the General's lover, Mother,” Caracalla laughed.

“Lover?” She sized you up and gave you a stunned look.

“My slave highness,” the General corrected him. You immediately bowed your head and greeted them formally.

“A slave? How fortunate you are, I have never seen such a beautiful slave,” Geta said, his eyes wide, and you felt him tense as the General's body moved slightly in front of yours. You felt grateful as you hid yourself behind his shawl.

“She reminded me of the Germans, remember?" he chuckled and covered his mouth.

Geta accompanied his laughter and punched him jokingly in the shoulder. Then he looked at you again. “Restrain yourself, brother, this is something completely different, you know what I mean?"

Caracalla huffed, “Tempting!"

You had no idea what they were talking about, and despite your best efforts to keep your eyes off Julia, she was always looking at you.

“Bring her to the banquet,” Caracalla said excitedly, clasping his hands together.

“But Highness, you know, women are not allowed there,” Julia said loudly.

“The Empress is right, only senators and patricians, just like any other banquets,” the General said with a sharp tone.

“How boring, I'd like her to serve me, pour me some wine, so I'd see a pretty face instead of those ugly blokes' faces all night.” Caracalla pursed his lips.

Geta sighed at his reaction and put his palm in his foreground. “You’re still a child brother, if you want a girl to get laid, I'll get you one after the banquet,” he turned his head to general. “Spending the night with another Roman's slave would be a bit of theft,” he said with a grin that showed all of his teeth at the General.

The General clenched his jaw and looked at him menacingly. You felt shivers run down your spine. Domna looked at them with concern and tried to ease the atmosphere by clapping her hands. “That's enough gentlemen, I'm famished, watching the games made me real hungry,” she took Geta's arm “Shall we?” She must have been pretty familiar with this kind of situation.

Geta turned to General one last time, ”We wanted to send you a new slave as a gift, tonight,” his eyes searching you up and down.

"That is very kind of you, but I must refuse,” the General said in a firm tone.

He inhaled deeply, "It's not hard to guess why," he smiled crookedly.

“Then I want it for myself, as you promised,” Caracalla whined, taking Geta's other arm.

“Share with me?”

“You just said it's a theft.”

“Cruel.”

They kept up their debate while they walked towards the waiting carriage. It seemed like the tension was slowly easing.

Once they were in their carriage and out of sight, the general turned to you with a look of frustrated annoyance on his face. Meeting your brothers for the first time was awkward, but it was clear that they had always been like that, and everyone, including their mother, accepted it as normal.

“Are they always like this?”

“Worse.”

“They're like spoiled little children,” you snapped.

He let out a little laugh, putting a hand to his mouth, which surprised you. You thought he'd scold you for criticizing the emperors in his presence. But he didn’t, also, his smile was so beautiful that you couldn't help but smile back.

“Have you seen the games? What do you think?” The General asked you curiously.

“Well a bit, bloody.”

He smirked. “But you're used to seeing blood,” he looked around as if he was waiting for something.

“Yes, but I don't like it when people cut each other mercilessly,” you said in a stubborn tone.

“It's called survival.”

“The game of survival,” you murmured. “I don't know, it doesn't feel right,” you said honestly.

“I'm a warrior too you know, I've fought there countless times,” he said with a proud smile on his face.

You looked at him in surprise, of course, you had expected it, but you shuddered when you imagined him there, fighting for his survival. Soon a carriage pulled up beside you both, he touched your shoulder.

"You'd better go to the villa now. They're expecting me at the banquet," he said.

“I want to say thank you, for bringing me here today,” you said softly as he helped you into the carriage.

“The pleasure is mine," he said gently, his eyes meeting yours made you smile undoubtedly.

He then gestured to the coachman and the horses began to move, pulling the carriage forward.

As the carriage carried you away from the General, you continued to observe him from beneath the curtain until his silhouette in white receded from your view.

The next morning, you opened your eyes and smiled when you heard the rooster crowing cheerfully. You sat up with a yawn, you saw that Norell was already up her mattress was empty, clearly started the day before you. You looked out the window while your mind returned to the events of the previous day. You thought about the ceremony, the games, the gladiators, the blood, your first sight of your arrogant and strange brothers, and that brown-skinned man, Macrinus. And of course, the General. When he stood with that golden crown on his head… You smiled to yourself, remembering him, and suddenly your cheeks flushed. You were surprised every time because you had never experienced such feelings in your body before. It was all so new to you.

On the other hand, you couldn't stop thinking about what Macrinus had said. You were sure he was planning something. It was hard to know if it would be right to tell the General everything, how he would react, who he would side with. Then you remembered the letter, and your body stiffened almost like a statue of Venus. It had completely slipped your mind that you had left it in his room. He didn't have a chance to touch his stuff yesterday because he arrived late at the villa, but he would definitely touch it eventually. You quickly tidied yourself and your hair and walked out of your room. As you stood there by the stairs leading up to the General's room, wondering what to do, Norell came up to you, carrying a tray with food on it.

“Are you taking this to the General?”

“Yes, he must be awake by now.”

“I'll take it to him,” you said and took the tray from her.

“Are you sure? The Master has warned us not to let you do too much work.”

“I'll talk to him, don't worry, I need to check his wound anyway,” you said smiling at her.

“Well, I was afraid of dropping the tray,” she gasped.

“What's wrong?” you put the tray on a nearby chair and went over to her, she was pressing her hand to her stomach.

“Well, it’s my moon,” she smiled at you, her freckled cheeks flushed.

“Oh, do you want me to give you an herbal mixture for the pain?”

“Would that help?”

“It works for me.”

You strode into the room and picked up your leather bag, looking through the few remaining bottles of medicine. You were running low on supplies. When you returned to her side, Norell was sitting in a chair, pressing her hands to her stomach.

You poured some of the medicine from the bottle into a bowl on the tray and crushed it, then poured a little wine into a cup, also from the tray, and diluted the mixture.

"That was the master's cup," Norell declared.

"I'll get a new one from the kitchen, drink this, and I'll be right back."

You had to cross to the other courtyard to get to the kitchen, where you had last entered the balneum. You felt your cheeks flush as you remembered the last time you were there with the General there. You returned to the main courtyard with a new cup, put it on the tray, and looked at Norell, who was grimacing as she drank the herbal concoction you had given her.

"This tastes awful," she complained.

"That's why you should drink it all, dear,” you smiled at her.

Then you picked up the tray and ascended the stairs, one by one. You stopped in front of the General's room, propped the tray up with one hand, and knocked on the door with the other. You opened the door and entered. He was sitting at his desk, looking at papers. He seemed busy. You saw the calamus pen and papers in his hand and knew you had to make a plan to get the letter before he found it.

When he looked up and saw you, he raised his eyebrows. "Have you decided to be my slave now?"

"Well, Norell is not feeling well. I'm helping her, at least for today." You put the tray down on the table and turned towards him, your gaze fixed on the wooden chest next to him.

"What's wrong? Is she alright?"

"It's a woman's issue that happens every month," you explained.

"Oh, I see," he murmured and returned to his papers.

“May I take a look at your wound? As your medicus, of course.”

"So you will appear to be both my slave and medicus today.” He put the pen on the desk, took the paper in his hand, folded it, stuffed it into the envelope, and sealed with pressing his own seal on the wax.

"I guess I am, for today," your eyes were still on the chest, wondering how to get the letter without him noticing.

His lips curled into a smile. "I feel blessed.”

Acacius stood, wearing a dark purple tunic with gold embroidery on the sleeves and collar. He walked over to his bed and sat on the edge of it, looking at you. You moved closer to him and had to bend down to check on his wound. Looking at him out of the corner of your eye, you put your bag on the bed, a bit away from him who had rolled up his tunic.

As you stood in front of him and leaned over him, he was surprised to feel the light breeze of your hair hit his face. He leaned back a little, but it gave him a better view of your breasts, he swallowed hard making him stunned. Then he turned his head away, even though it was so difficult for him, but he waited patiently. You were no different from him as you checked his wound, oblivious to everything, touching his skin made you tense every time.

The General's wound was almost healed but you noticed a rash around the cut.

“Do you have any itching or pain, sir?”

“Itching, yes, a little, pain, no.”

There’s pain, thought Acacius, but it's not where my wound is, deep in my chest.

He turned his head towards you again and looked into your beautiful eyes shining like a gem under your long eyelashes, he embraced his pain meanwhile. But it wasn't just it. The general was experiencing a whole range of sensations he hadn't felt in a long time, and it was unlike anything he'd ever fully experienced with a woman. You unintentionally revived memories of his naive and callow youth, but he appeared to find it amusing.

“I need to make an ointment for that-“

But just as you straightened up to reach for your bag, you felt pressure and pain in your neck. Looking down, you realize that the chains of the necklace you were wearing were caught in the trimmings on the collar of the general's tunic, stuck in its threads.

He was taken aback, but perhaps not as much as you were. The expression on your face, as you tried to pull your neck backward in utter shock, made him giggle. Unfortunately, you found it difficult to remain calm and the first thing that came to your mind was to unlock the necklace. So when you reached your hands back behind your neck, you lost your balance and fell on top of him. The General was a trained soldier, with well-developed arm and back muscles and a body that could easily carry such a light load in that position. All in all, he was a man so when you fell and your breasts hit his muscular chest, feeling them beneath the thin fabric, made him fall backward onto the bed.

You gasped as you found yourself in this awkward situation without even realizing how it had happened. With a quick move, you put one hand on the bed to sit up and realized that the other was on the general's chest, you withdrew it and looked at his face to check his reaction. The general looked back at you, his dark brown eyes locked on yours, but you were blinking your eyes in surprise. You frantically tried to stand up, but your necklace, as if mocking you, wouldn't let you. He grabbed your shoulders and stopped you as you struggled over his body. You were making it difficult for him to remain calm with your movements, and he was starting to lose his patience.

“Easy, would you?” He growled. His hands reached behind your neck and he murmured as he unlocked the necklace. "Stay still. I can't restrain myself if you keep moving like this.”

Your face flushed like a crimson hue as you realized what he was talking about, gasped as you felt between your legs, beneath the fabric, a part of his body pressing against your womanhood.

“You really don't know how to behave around a man, you are so careless,” he chastised you.

Once your neck was free from the damn necklace, you stood up quickly, feeling a slight soreness in your neck.

“I've spent more time around men than you think, sir,” you mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand.

As he removed your necklace from the collar of his tunic, a few threads of the fabric snapped with it. “But you were dressing like them, they didn't know you were a woman,” he corrected you. ‘You have to be careful from now on, especially when you're dressed like this.’

"Forgive me, sir," you said, feeling a little embarrassed to look him in the face.

"Your face is as red as wine," he chuckled, sitting up in bed.

You bit your lower lip and pursed your lips, then went over to your bag and picked it up to make the ointment. The medicine bottles rattled as they came out of the bag, and the general looked at them curiously. "You've been carrying these in your bag all this time?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," you replied, uncapping the green bottle, shaking it, and pouring a few drops into the empty bowl on the tray. As you stirred and softened the ointment with your index finger you murmured, “I made all this myself, but it’s almost ran out.’

“Impressive.”

Once the ointment was ready to be applied, you took the bowl in your other hand and approached the general.

“Sir, I need to apply this ointment to the wound.”

“Careful and don't throw yourself on me this time,” he giggled as he grabbed the hem of his tunic and pulled it up once more.

You swallowed and cleared your throat, trying to stay calm, dipped the tip of your finger into the bowl, took some and applied it to the wound.

"You're making the same mistake again," he teased.

You frowned, not quite understanding what he was saying. You were sure you applied the ointment well, but looks like this was not the issue. When you looked at him, you caught him staring at your breasts. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him, his eyes meeting yours. His brown eyes were warm and intense, making your heart melt.

"Never bend over another man like that," he whispers.

As his warm breath brushed against your cheek, your heartbeat quickened. "I-I won't," you stammered.

He released your wrist, and you stepped back and put the bowl on the desk. “It needs to be applied at night too, I think you can handle it,” you said with your back turned. You glanced at the wooden chest out of the corner of your eye. It seemed like you wouldn't have a chance to get the letter, at least not while he was still in his room.

“Yes, I'm grateful,” said the general, standing up and coming over to you taking the bowl and sniffing it.

"The aroma is pleasing; what is this?"

You smiled at him. “Asphodeloideae (aloe vera), sir, it does indeed have a pleasing aroma. It has been demonstrated to accelerate the healing of burns and itching wounds. But I'm afraid it's about to run out, so just use it until it's finished.”

Acacius perched himself on the edge of this desk, looking at you. “Carrying all these bottles in your bag might be a little difficult. Besides, you say you're out of supplies, I will be traveling to the city and subsequently to the barracks tomorrow, would you like to come with me?”

“To the barracks?”

“Absolutely not,” his voice was loud and sharp. “I meant to say, I shall convey you to the city in my carriage, and return for you when I have finished my business.”

Pleased by his offer, “Sir, that would be great, thank you.”

He smiled softly at you and walked over to the table to eat the food you had brought for him. As you grabbed your bag and headed for the door to leave the room, he stopped you by extending his hand.

“Won't you join me?”

You turned your head to him. He pointed to the chair opposite him with his hand. “Have a seat, I need to make sure my medicus has eaten something.”

You smiled, did as he said, putting your bag down. Acacius picked up the wine cup, you reached for the decanter before him.

“Allow me, please.”

He smiled gratefully as you poured the wine from the decanter into his cup.

“You are getting better and better at being a slave, you are willing to fulfill all my needs. Except one.”

You almost spilled all the wine when you met his piercing eyes. You slowly placed the decanter on the tray. While you were calculating what to say, he put his hand on yours which holds the handle of the decanter.

"Don't you have any feelings for me?” He was looking at you from under his eyebrows, eagerly waiting for your answer.

His gaze shifted from your lips to your eyes, you lingered looking into his eyes, even if you said what you felt now, it was very difficult to predict what would happen next. You wondered if he would love you for who you really were.

“It's all so new to me also very hard to say anything for sure. But…"

“But?”

You were trying to think rationally under the influence of his gaze, but you were failing.

“I feel happy when I'm with you, and… I miss you when you're not around,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks burning.

“At least there's a silver lining.” Acacius smiled widely, lifted your hand, and placed a kiss on it.

It was an ordinary day in the streets of Rome, blessed by clear sky and sunshine. The sounds of birdsong were interspersed with those of the rooster. Some people wandered the streets on foot, chatting to each other, while others mounted horses and rode along the stone paths at a pace that caused the hooves of the horses to clatter against the buildings with a distinct echoing sound. The sound of a nearby blacksmith's hammer striking an anvil could be heard in the distance, accompanied by the voices of merchants trying to attract customers to their businesses and draw attention to the goods they were offering for sale. Women often inspected the exhibits before making a purchase and then had their slaves carry them home. Since the clothing and accessories worn by each group reflected their status, it was relatively easy to distinguish between social classes.

You and Norell were walking around the streets in your slave clothes and cloaks to buy something just like other Romans. You still couldn't get used to these clothes. When men and women stared at you, wished you were invisible, as you used to be.

You entered the market street and noticed the large crowd gathered in front of the stalls. There were pots, vegetables, fruits, fabrics, fish, butchers, and plants. The plants, herbs, and flowers on the stalls were very varied and fresh. Once you had purchased what you needed and placed it in your bags, you walked down the street once more, recounting to Norell the events of the previous day and your observations at the Colosseum, as she had requested.

"You know he's in love with you, right?" Norell looked at you suggestively through her yellowish eyelashes.

"Are you talking about the General?

“Is there someone else?" she teased, then inhaled deeply. "I wouldn't be surprised, you're quite attractive."

“Oh, Norell, please," you whined.

“I know you love him too, why are you avoiding my question?"

You smiled shyly, “I’m not sure what I feel. How can you be so sure of his feelings anyway?”

You both waited for a carriage to pass in front of you before crossing the street.

“Because I've known him since I was young and I've never seen the General like this before. Even Tullia is worried, she's angry with you, you know.”

You looked at her with your hazel eyes wide open. “Why? But I didn't do anything wrong, I did everything the General asked.”

Once the carriage had passed, you crossed the street and continued walking along the avenue where the west front of the Colosseum was visible. Norell took your arm.

“I don't know how it was where you come from, but here slaves have to fulfill their master’s every need. So Tullia thinks you’re not obeying him.” You were offended by being treated as a slave, but you couldn't blame her for being unaware of the truth about you. You turned your head to her and kept your voice low. “He said he would not touch me against my will.”

“Oh, that's why he's so upset then.”

You stopped and looked at her. “Upset?”

Her brown eyes looked sad. “Every night before I go to bed, I see him looking deep in thought at his balcony. And during the day, he's there, watching whatever you're doing. It's not like him.”

Was he? Somewhere deep in your chest, you felt a sharp, intense pain.

“Other slaves, the beautiful ones, are raped, killed or sold. Even among the nobles, there are those who are forced into marriage and have to sleep with a man they don't love. I know you've never been touched by a man before and neither have I. But if I found someone who could love me the way he loves you, I would give myself to him.” She blinks at you.

You were absolutely certain of her sincerity, but your situation was quite different from that of other slaves, even from all other Roman women.

“I suppose I should confess my feelings to myself first,” you murmured.

“My Lady!”

You and Norell turned to see who was speaking. You were surprised to see Macrinus standing next to you in his cloak.

"I was hoping to meet you," he said, looking around, then came closer. "But, you are very careless," he said in a low voice. "You attract too much attention."

You couldn't understand what he was saying. "Sir, why do you seem to be hiding?”

"I'm lurking because I've been following you for some time, and luckily I found you without anyone noticing."

"Why did you follow me?"

"We need to talk, but not here. We are too exposed.”

“What's going on, Aya? Who is this man?” You forgot for a moment that Norell was looking at you both in confusion.

Macrinus looked at her and then at you then he turned his head to the street.

“Norell, I'll tell you everything later,” you said, touching her shoulder then turned to Macrinus. “Sir, I don't think it’s the right time-”

He grabbed your arm gently. “You don't realize how much danger you are in, Julia suspects something and it's only a matter of time before she finds you.”

“How do you mean?”

"I'll tell you everything, but right now we need to move." He gestured to you as he walked to the other side of the street, you nodded and pulled Norell's arm, you felt uncomfortable going without her.

"Are you going to tell me what is happening? Who is this man?"

"Trust me and wait, I'll tell you everything at once, I promise."

She wasn't convinced, but she nodded and remained silent.

You and Norell followed Macrinus for a few more streets, maintaining a safe distance from the people around you. It didn't take long for you to notice that the streets were getting quieter. There were fewer people around, and the streets were narrower and more secluded. After passing through a narrow, dead-end street, Macrinus stopped, threw back his hood, and turned to you. When you realized Norell was squeezing your arm, you looked at her. Seeing her looking at a structure at the end of the street, petrified. You turned your head to that direction to find out what was worrying her. It was a large but untidy two-story house. The curtains were blowing out of the windows in the wind, they were all red.

“Gods, it’s…whore house," Norell muttered.

You turned to Macrinus in disbelief. At that moment, two men approached you from down the street, surveyed you both, and continued on their way, laughing.

“I'm sorry, my lady, but this is the safest place to talk.”

"To talk? What are you planning? How could you think I would be in such a place?"

Your voice echoed through the cobbled streets as Macrinus approached you, his expression grave.

"I can't speak to you safely anywhere else, your appearance would draw attention if we were in a tavern or other. But this place is too remote for anyone to think of it, you know what I mean, and nothing will happen to you, the one who runs this place knows me and I trust her."

When Norell grabbed your arm, you moved a little away from Macrinus, closer to the wall.

“Look Aya, I don't know what's going on, but this is not good, if the General finds out about this-.”

"I know. He knows my real family, and I trust him.” You lied. “Don't worry, you go to the place where we'll meet with the carriage and wait for me. I don't want you to go there with me."

"I don't think you should go in there either."

You gave Macrinus a quick look, then turned to Norell. "I know, it won't take long, I promise."

Norell looked at you and Macrinus with concern.

"If you won't be there in time, I'll tell the General everything," she said, sounding more like she wanted Macrinus to hear him. You looked at him in panic, but he didn't look surprised. You knew that moment you had to talk to him, no matter what. You were almost certain that he was planning to threaten the General through you.

Once Norell turned the corner into another alley, you turned to Macrinus. He smiled at you, turned, and walked towards the house. He no longer seemed nervous, as if he comes here, and walks through here often. You, however, were tense, feeling abandoned by Norell's leaving and like you'd put yourself in great danger.

Macrinus lifted the iron knocker of the big wooden door and rapped twice. At that moment, you tensed even more as you heard voices coming from inside, your face flushing red with embarrassment. A short, poorly dressed man opened the door and looked at Macrinus, then at you. When his eyes met yours, you looked away.

"Tell Juturna I'm here."

The man gave you one last look and went inside. Macrinus gestured for you to come in as he moved quickly down the corridor. You swallowed and deliberately ignored the voices as you walked in.

“Did it really have to be here?”

“I'm sorry, I understand why you're uncomfortable, but it really is safer than you think.”

Macrinus smirks, but you grow more and more nervous, everyone here men, and women is almost naked even in the mural pictures dyed on the walls. The voices were getting louder and louder when a middle-aged woman came running towards you. She wore too much make-up and smiled broadly at Macrinus.

"Sire, how good to see you again."

"Private room now."

She tilted her head to look at you with wide eyes, you turned your head and wrapped your cloak tightly around your arms, covering your body. She pressed her hand to her chest, "Gods, it's been years since such a beauty drops in here.”

"Don't overstep your bounds, she's a lady!" Macrinus scolded him.

"Apologies, sire. Have your way to up the stairs and the boys will show you to your room," she said with a grin.

Following Macrinus into the hallway, seeing some young girls, half-naked, talking amongst themselves. As you passed them, they looked at you strangely. You felt sorry for them, but also a bit disgusted.

A young boy gestured to the room, and Macrinus invited you in after he had entered. You were almost startled when the door closed behind you. Looked around quickly to observe, red curtains, orange bedspread and pillows, overturned wine cups and fruits in a bowl on the table, and various colored fabrics on the chairs. And the smell... You couldn't stop thinking about what had happened in this room. It made you feel sick.

Macrinus saw your unease and pulled out the chair for you to sit down.

"Have a seat, my lady."

You gave him a look that said you weren't going to be pushed around and sat down on the chair, crossing your arms to avoid touching anything else. "Tell me what I need to know. I don't have much time."

Macrinus took another wine cup from the other table in the corner of the room, poured wine into, and handed it to you. You made a gesture with the back of your hand and shook your head no.

"Are you afraid of the General?" he asked as he sat down in the chair opposite you. "I know you're staying at his villa. How long has he known?”

"He doesn’t! I can assure you that the General has nothing to do with it.”

Macrinus crossed his legs and took a sip of his wine.

"Of course he does. He'll take you to Geta himself as soon as he finds out."

You thought about him. Would he really do that? You couldn't find the answer, and you hated it.

"The general is a man of honor. He will understand when I tell him."

"Are you saying you can lure him to our side?"

"Our side?" You leaned over the chair towards him, "What is your purpose?"

"It's simple. I'm going to present you to the Senate and get them to recognize you unanimously. You will be formally designated as the heiress to the imperial throne. I really wonder about the emperors’ face when they find out."

Macrinus laughed and took a quick sip of wine.

"How do I know you're not lying to me and you're actually on the emperors’ side at this moment?"

Macrinus narrowed his eyes and looked at you. "I am close to Caracalla. He trusts me." He extended his hand toward you, placing one of the red grapes from the table in it. "I have him right in the palm of my hand, right here, and when the time comes…" He closed his palm and squeezed the grape, the pinkish juice of the grape slowly flowed between his fingers and dripped on the floor. You looked at him in disgust as he ate smashed grapes and licked his own palm.

“And what do you want from me? What will you gain if the Senate recognizes me?”

“I promised your father I would restore peace to Rome, and after he sent you away, he asked me to find Vicius and make sure you were safe. So as I stated before, I went to Egypt to find you, Vicius managed to hide you, he didn't believe me, he was very good at covering his tracks. No wonder he kept you hidden all this time. On the way back, news reached me of your father's death in York, and by the time I got back to the capital, Caracalla and Geta had declared their empire.”

That was four years ago, and it was no coincidence that on that very day, your uncle took you from home to the Valetudinarium in Alexandria. But you still weren't sure whether he had done it to protect you from Macrinus or from your emperor brothers or Julia.

“You said Julia suspected something.”

Macrinus was a man of very calm demeanor; it was hard to tell from his expression what he was thinking. “If Julia finds out you're alive, she'll take your life without a second thought.”

You swallowed hard, you already disliked her when you met her on the day of the ceremony.

“But I'm a woman, I can't be a threat to the throne,” you said looking at him, Macrinus put his cup on the table and leaned forward.

“But if one day you give birth to a son, my lady, you will be the greatest threat of all. She is a woman who keeps the General and her sons in balance, do not underestimate her. She wants Acacius in the Senate, to gain power over me.” He reached for a bunch of grapes and plucked one. “But I have secured my position, and with you we can save Rome from them for good.” He popped a grape into his mouth and smiled at you as he chewed.

“What about the General, what will happen to him?”

He stopped chewing. “He has to choose. But before, he could be charged with treason for hiding you in his villa.”

“No, I told you, there’s nothing like that, he doesn't know about the letter. He doesn't know who I really am,” you yelled at him.

“Do you really think emperors would care about that?”

You knew the answer, your heart began beating in your throat. It wasn't fair that the General should face such an offense because of you.

"If you go to the Senate, there'll be a trial and a judgment, and we'll win. No doubt about it. I'll send the word tonight. The court will convene the day after tomorrow. I can hide you until then," he said, standing up and holding out his hand to you.

You regarded him with a determined expression. "I am grateful for your kindness, but I believe I will be safer with the General, I would like to leave now before he finds me here. Moreover, I am not yet ready to trust you fully."

Macrinus laughed. "My lady, I believe that attitude will serve you well in front of the Senate. It might be beneficial to adopt a similar stance.”

As you left the room, you felt a strong inclination to descend the stairs as quickly as possible, in order to avoid the rather pungent odours and sounds. As you passed the rooms one by one, you heard what seemed to be a cry. Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw a face you had seen before. You stopped, and when you wanted to look again to make sure, you turned your head, and lifted the torn red curtain blocking the entrance of the room to see her face. It was her, Decima, the girl you met on the ship and with whom you had the good fortune to become friends. You shared your secrets with her, and you had always assumed that she had been sold to a wealthy man. You hoped that she had been happy until now. You were so wrong. You felt your body trembling as your eyes began to well up with tears.

"Are you all right, my lady?" Macrinus asked, concern evident in his voice which came to you in a blur.

"Decima!" You ran into the room beside her, grabbing her shoulders. She was startled, then looked at you with a surprised look on her face and started to cry. You hugged her and pressed her head to your chest.

"Have you been here all this time?”

She was visibly distraught, and your heart ached for her. "I thought you had forgotten me," she sobbed.

"Never. I thought that nobleman had bought you. What happened?"

"No, he didn't," she mumbled, shaking her head.

Without a second thought you grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the room.

Macrinus stepped in front of you. “My lady, you can't do this, she belongs here now.”

"No way! I'm taking her with me!" You barked and pushed him aside, pulled Decima by the arm ran to the stairs, and kept walking while ignoring the murmuring, and shouting coming behind you.

“Hey! How you? She's my slave, I paid eight thousand sesterces for her!” Juturna, who owned the place got up from her seat and came over to you, she was angry. Two guards at the door came in, blocking your way with a threatening and mocking demeanor.

Macrinus came running behind. “My lady, please, let her go. Those are the rules here. I’m begging you.”

It never felt right, you didn't want to leave Decima there to her fate. Then, someone came running up to Macrinus and whispered something in his ear. He tensed, cursed angrily, and turned his head to you. “Acacius is here. I need to go. Please don't do anything dull,” he warned you. Then he made his way back down the corridor and stepped through the door that led to the rear entrance.

You swallowed hard when you heard the General’s name, you had to think fast, decide fast. Then you opted to follow your heart, rather than your mind. As you grabbed Decima's hand and headed for the door, it opened with a thud and the General stormed in. You both regarded each other with surprise, but his expression soon became one of anger.

“General Acacius, sir!” Juturna approached him.

He didn't hear her, didn't look around, he was as angry as you'd ever seen him, with a piercing gaze that took hold of yours. As he reached out and grabbed your arm, you pulled back with all your strength. But the second time he grabbed again and pulled roughly, you couldn't find the strength to pull back. But you didn't intend to let go of Decima's hand either.

“Sir, please tell her something, she's trying to take my slave.” The woman bowed her head in front of the general and squinted at you.

“She is my friend, please help me, sir,” you said pleadingly.

"I'm a Roman citizen, and this one belongs to me. You clearly don't know the laws. Give her to me now," she said, grabbing Decima's other arm and pulling her along.

“No!”

“Let her go, Aya!” the General roared, but you didn't listen to him. Before you could even think about reaching for Decima, he grabbed your arm again and pulled you to outside, but you struggled with all your strength. The General let out a low growl, and before you knew it, the ground gave way beneath your feet. He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder. Your face hit the leather armor on his muscular back with a thump, leaving you gasping in surprise. You struggled to get free, but he held on tight, carrying you out.

“No! Let me down! Please!” No matter what you said, it didn't stop him, you tried to lift your head to look at Decima, but when you saw that the door was closed, you got angry.

You started punching his back, but it was like hitting a stone wall. He tightened his muscular arm around the back of your thighs, right near your butt. As he carried you, your loud voice echoed through the whole street. People in the street looked at you curiously as they saw the general had come with you over his shoulder to the carriage. You gave up struggling, and he set you down.

Your hair was a mess, but all you had on your mind was getting back to Decima. He saw you looking back, grabbed your arm, and put you and then himself into the carriage. He ordered the coachman to drive and then he started his horses. He sat you down next to him and never let go of your arm. When the carriage moved, he loosened his grip and turned his head towards you. But you were looking the other way. Norell sitting across from you, her lips tightly closed, so ashamed to look the general in the face, blaming herself. No one spoke the whole way, only the sound of the wheels rolling on the stony ground echoed inside the carriage.

Upon arrival at the villa, Norell regarded the General and you with a timid expression before exiting the carriage. You didn't move, your anger still raw. In the end, your stubbornness made him give up and he got out. "Come out now," he ordered.

He was waiting for you with his hand extended. You inhaled and stood up, but instead of taking his hand, you grabbed the side of the car as you stepped out. You walk briskly into the Villa's garden and leave him behind. As you came into the garden, you saw Tullia and Norell whispering to each other. You glanced at them, and they looked over at the general, who was walking quickly behind you. They seemed tense. As you were heading to your room, a strong hand grabbed your wrist. He pulled you to the stairs this time you didn’t resist. He led you to his room and closed the door.

He turned to you, first his brown eyes met yours and then he calculated what to say or tried to remain calm.

“You will never go there again, do you hear me?”

You glanced over at the balcony, and he stepped a little closer. “How could you go there? How could you put yourself in danger like that? What were you thinking?”

“She's my friend,” you murmured, looking at the setting sun on the horizon through the window.

“Even so, there's nothing you can do for her, the rules apply to everyone.”

“That could have been me,” you turned your head to him. “I could have been one of those poor girls if you-” you swallowed, your voice was trembling.

Acacius' expression softened as he moved closer to you. "I'm truly sorry about your friend, but you need to let it go. I need you to promise me you won't go there again." His brown eyes were bathed in the orangish sunlight streaming through the window. They were looking at you with intensity, delving deeply into your soul. You wondered how you could still be so stubborn, defying him like that. You closed your eyes and crossed your arms, realizing your disobedience, he grabbed your shoulders. "I may be a gentle master to you, but don't even think to test my patience.”

At that moment, the anger that was welling up inside you was trying to get out.

“I am not your slave! I never have been! I'm-”

You almost would tell him everything, but not feeling ready yet, not like this. He was far from being surprised, it’s like he knew you were going to say that.

“As for that, I couldn't find any proof that you were a Roman citizen,” Acacius pulled his hands back, “I recently sent a letter to the governor in Egypt regarding your uncle's funeral. I have received a reply from him today. It seems that he does not have any relatives, only his wife and himself. Interestingly, there is no record of the name Aya.”

It was rather unexpected. You were unprepared for how quickly he discovered the truth. As he approached, you instinctively braced yourself and took a step back. You winced when your back hit the stone wall. Acacius placed his palms on the wall, either side of your head. His brown eyes darkened as he leaned in, almost close enough to kiss you. You placed your hands against the wall behind you, feeling the coolness of the stone in your palms and on your skin, in an attempt to gather your strength. His eyes locked onto yours as if he were questioning you.

“Who are you?”

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aureatchi · 11 months ago

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⋆ ✦ ˚｡⋆ THIS SUMMER NIGHT WE FIND SCATTERED DREAMS, I ONCE AGAIN RUN IN THE STARLIGHT ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor, sigma.

— what it’s like to stargaze with them. (& more)

a/n. sadly, i have yet to see the aurora borealis and in general, seldom get to see the stars. (light pollution my no.1 enemy !!) but a girl can dream :) (& distract herself from the latest bsd chapters..)

info. fem!reader. fluff. soft everyone lol. some of them are nerds & ramble abt stars. :) + a little poetic. mentions of greek mythology. kissing. buildup to actual topic. profanities in chuuya’s & he may or may not use sskk to help. bsd manga/ability spoilers in fyodor’s.

DAZAI : so in this instance, i’d be perseus, and you’d be andromeda. — he listens to everything you have to say.

Your palm in his, the brunette’s pretty fingers wrapped around yours. He softly massaged your hand as you began telling him, your starstruck lover a story under the show of constellations. It had formed into a little routine since the first time you stargazed with him as a date.

“There was this princess,” you started. “Princess Andromeda. She was a very beautiful woma-”

“You’re more beautiful, though,” Dazai interrupted. You didn’t even get in two complete sentences without his commentary. You sat a bit awestruck while he delivered a kiss to your hand.

“Continue, bella,” big brown eyes teased you.

You hastily recovered. “…She was beautiful. And her mother—Queen Cassiopeia—who was very prideful, decided to brag to Poseidon, the Greek god of the seas, that she was prettier than his daughters.”

“I mean, that’s understandable. I brag about you all the time! Why shouldn’t the pretty girl be shown off?”

“Shut up,” you chuckled, reminiscing over the times the detective had shown you off. Whenever you decided to visit the Armed Detective Agency’s office with Dazai, Kunikida would never hear the end of it. When you two went out to eat, he would flatter your name away. “This gorgeous girl would like to order…” “May I please get a table for the angelic lady and I?”

He never failed to fluster you.

“Anyway, Poseidon got angry and decided to send a sea monster to destroy their kingdom. The only way the monster could be pacified was if it could devour Andromeda.”

“A damsel in distress,” Dazai nodded and then dramatically pretended like he was the helpless princess on the ocean. He completely pulled over the blanket the two of you were sharing, using it as a cape—“Someone save me! I’m going to be eaten by a sea monster!”

“‘Samu! I’m cold!”

“Ah, sorry. Perhaps you are the princess, and you need saving from this icy night!” He rewrapped the blanket over your shoulder.

“Stop interrupting me; I’m trying to tell you something!” It was nowhere near icy, but your lover proved his dramaticism even further when a tuft of brown hair grazed your shoulder. He had rested his head on you.

“Oka-ay—sorry, continue!”

“Meanwhile, Perseus—I told you last time, the man who killed Medusa—found Andromeda while flying over with his horse, Pegasus. He immediately fell in love with her, so he slayed the sea monster and rescued her from the rock she was chained to.”

“What a hero,” Dazai said. “So they lived happily ever after?”

“Not yet. Perseus asked Andromeda’s father for permission to marry her but discovered she was already set to marry someone else. And the man she was engaged to got angry that Perseus wanted to marry her.”

“Of course,” he sighed, which puzzled you a bit, but you’d return to his comment later. “I’m rooting for Perseus, though.”

“Well, good for you because the two fought, and Perseus won by showing the other guy Medusa’s head.”

Dazai chuckled. “Nice move! He turned his enemy into his trophy. Imagine if we did that to all our enemies!”

“I think then we’d have a whole army of statues,” you laughed. “But now, he and Andromeda married, and they were able to live happily ever after.

“The gods placed them in the sky so their story would be remembered eternally.” Finished with your recount, you gazed up at the stars.

“The North Star,” you pointed, and when you saw the brunette’s bronze eyes squint, trying to see what you were talking about, you moved closer until you were halfway on his lap.

You took his palm in yours and guided it to a single star.

“That one. All the characters’ constellations I mentioned in the story revolve around that star. Perseus with his sword, Andromeda flying on Pegasus...”

“Huh? That’s the North Star? Isn’t it supposed to be the brightest in the sky or something?” It didn’t stand out from the rest as much as he thought.

You giggled. “That’s a myth, ‘samu. It’s funny you didn’t know that.”

He shrugged. “I never really had time to appreciate and learn about something so peaceful like nature until now.” He turned to you.

“Until you.”

You weren’t sure how, but it was almost as if the moonlight had carved out his pretty face. Ethereal, you had called the moon, and it reflected in your lover’s features. His eyes took in the charm of the millions of lights in the night and synthesized the feeling to bring it back to you.

“If I were one of the gods, I would’ve created a whole galaxy reflecting your soul.”

In the midst of terror and chaos, the detective’s eyes revolved around humans and their violence rather than around the sun and the planets. Eyes and soul—how else could he focus on anything else when that’s all life showed him?

“Because I see the constellations in you—Andromeda, Pegasus, Carina, Orion…” it had been a few months, and throughout you had shown and told him all the stories behind the stars in the sky.

“And now I can stop to smell the flowers, love. I can watch the Ursa Minor, even if I still find it hard to sleep.” You were the bridge to his bronze gaze and iron marrow—you showed him that you were human, but that a heart could really exist without violence or malice.

I see a reason why the nebulas are placed as they are, even if stories are just stories. I see a reason I’m here. With you.

He sealed the thought with a kiss to your lips, under the celestial moon and the heavens’ watch.

You always wondered why Dazai paid such close attention whenever you started rambling—initially, you didn’t think he’d care that much about tales of space. But you understood him a bit better now, his complex heart. You held onto him a bit tighter to him as you kissed him back.

…

“Oh yeah. What did you mean when you said ‘of course,’ when I started talking about Perseus having to fight over another guy for Andromeda?”

And Dazai was his lighthearted self once again.

“We’re definitely Andromeda and Perseus in another universe,” Dazai winked. “You’ve always deserved to be treated like a princess! I would totally save you from a sea monster. And I’d be an equestrian if I could too—even better, a flying one!”

“Sure…”

“C’mon, bella, you see me at those horse-racing events all the time! Anyway, most important of all, I had to fight for you. Such a tough world when every other man is also at your feet.” He crossed his arms. “Having Medusa’s head would’ve made things so much easier! I really would’ve had a whole army of stone statues if I did.”

“No, you really didn’t need it at all,” you replied, laughing at Dazai, who was now pouting.

“Osamu the demigod: slayer of monsters or not, I only have eyes for you.” You kissed him on the cheek.

“Unlike Andromeda, I wouldn’t let two men fight over me and marry the one who wins.

“I would just choose you right away.”

CHUUYA : babydoll, you’re worth more than all those stars combined. — he only gives you the best.

“Ah, that’s unfortunate. Thank you for informing me, though,” you said before hanging up the phone.

You didn’t sue them on the line, albeit irritated. Tonight, you were supposed to have a date with Chuuya at one of the fancy restaurants he somehow discovered more of in the city when you thought you finally visited them all, but your reservations were cancelled last minute.

“Hey, princess,” the handsome ginger said when you phoned him next. You could sense a smile through his words on the other end.

“What’s up?”

“Weird-ass restaurant cancelled our plans,” you said. “Not even a refund.”

Chuuya quickly picked up on the disappointment in your voice, and he knew it wasn’t because he didn’t get his money back. Money was nothing—he was a Port Mafia executive. Stacks of bills piled into his hands every day, and he quietly flexed on it through his collection of wine in the cellar, his clothes, and gifts to you.

What he wasn’t wealthy in was time. It had been almost a month since Chuuya had any free time—the boss had been overworking him amidst never-ending Yokohama mayhem. His large penthouse actually proved to be a disadvantage when you were the only one staying in it. It was too empty; it was too quiet for a home, there was an awkward gap in the bed you slept in.

“It’s okay, baby,” came Chuuya’s voice reassuringly. “Don’t worry ‘bout some shitty-ass restaurant.

“Meet me home at the rooftop at the time we originally planned.”

“…Alright,” you replied, unsure of what he was going to do, but you were grateful anyway that you’d get to spend time with him.

“And get ready too, like we originally planned,” he added, and this time, you could imagine the smugness in his smile. “See ya soon.”

…

The bell chimed as the elevator approached the top of Chuuya’s apartment, signaling that you reached the rooftop.

“Chuu?” you called out as the doors opened. He was nowhere to be found—instead a pathway of candles and a trail of rose petals leading to the other side.

Your heels clicked on the ground as you slowly followed the course. It was dark towards the back of the rooftop, but the front overlooked the entire city of Yokohama.

Another quiet flex.

“Hey, beautiful.” You noticed him before the lively city behind him, before the romantic scene he had set up—the path of petals expanded into scattering around the table Chuuya was sitting at. He was dressed up too—looking as attractive as ever.

“The Nakahara Restaurant,” you hummed, taking a seat in front of him. “Not bad.”

Chuuya smirked. “Not bad? We get Michelin stars, baby. Trust me.”

You giggled. “I don’t know about that, Chuu. You’ll have to prove it to me.” It was like you had turned the tables on him. Usually, he only deemed a restaurant good if you were pleased with the food.

“Alright.” Now, you were going to rate his. You could tell he was going to enjoy this.

“You hungry?”

You nodded.

With a snap of Chuuya’s fingers, you immediately heard footsteps scurrying toward the two of you.

Two young men, one with raven hair until silver tips and the other with an entirely silver head—you realized they were waiters from who knows where—approached you with a dish.

“Appetizers by Executive Nakahara,” the first one said.

“Wait—did you cook everything too?”

“Duuh, you take this for a fraud or something?” Chuuya failed to hide the pride on his face.

…

The appetizer, entrée, and dessert proved delicious, and you were forced to eat your previous words.

He was talented in just about everything.

Chuuya kicked the two ‘waiters’ out of his house after dessert was served, leaving the two of you finally alone. The candlelight amid the dark sky enveloped your figures in an intimate glow.

“I would’ve been fine with even just takeout,” you laughed after taking a sip out of your wine glass.

He smiled. “As if. It’s a special night, doll, we finally have time to see each other again.”

“Exactly! Seeing you is what matters most,” you said.

“Anyway, thank you, Chuu. I appreciate this so much. And I guess you’re right—you earn a Michelin Star from me.”

Chuuya looked towards the city below you and back. “Didn’t doubt it one bit. But that’s not the only stars we’re getting tonight.”

You looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t get shocked.”

Your lover snapped again—you picked up a slight difference in it this time compared to the previous times he signaled—and suddenly, Yokohama went dark.

You didn’t know how, but the city’s electricity had completely cut off at the mafia executive’s command.

“Chuu—?”

“You’re not looking the right way.”

You had been staring at the pitch-black buildings below in fazed awe, but it seemed to have switched places with the skies as now, small scattered lights began to fade in when you looked up, your eyes adjusting to the dark.

“Chuu!” You stood up in excitement. “We can see stars! In Yokohama!”

The ginger chuckled before pulling out a folded comforter from under the table. “Here, it’s better this way. Now this is what the wine was really for.”

…

Chuuya had fixed the comforter on the rooftop and pulled out a few pillows so that you were able to lie down and watch above more comfortably.

“I did this a lot when I stayed in Paris for a bit,” he said, explaining how he got the idea. “But the lights stayed on 24/7 there, too, so I had to use a telescope.”

You looked at him thoughtfully. “We could’ve done that too. You really startled everyone just for this.”

As if on cue, you suddenly heard someone shout in the distance, going “Hey! Who the hell turned off all the lights?!” You and Chuuya both snorted.

“Just for you,” he corrected. “I think this is better anyway. They can handle one night without power. And I made sure the hospitals and other important establishments stayed untouched.”

It was crazy how much power the man had. “Not entirely evil then,” you said.

“Yeah, plus I was also really aiming at that restaurant that tried ruining our plans,” Chuuya smirked.

You looked back at the stars and then Chuuya again, who hadn’t taken his cerulean eyes off your face.

You lay together to gaze at the stars. But instead of those, he was looking at you.

You couldn’t stop the flurry of coyness you got. He looked absolutely stunning under the heavens—it was almost unfair. It would be if you weren’t the one who got to see him in such a state. He looked mesmerized—mesmerized with you?

“Hey, you’re going to miss it if you keep staring at me,” you said.

“I’m seeing you and those galaxies for the first time in a while,” Chuuya replied. “I think I’d rather watch you.”

He kissed you while you were still smiling, causing him to grin, too. You felt light and safe around him and the blankets, and he felt the same. All aggression and stress ceased from his head, healed by you and the moonlight.

“Y’can name stars after people too, right?” he asked when you pulled back. “I swear, I’m going to make the next scientist who discovers one name it after you. It’d be way better than those random shitty names they give nowadays.”

FYODOR : i have the cosmos mapped out, likewise your soul. — you alone, he adores.

There was not a word said as you got into the passenger seat of the car that Fyodor was driving. He had left a note earlier that day—Zolotse, you’re coming with me on a mission tonight. Prepare what you need and bring the sleeping bags, and you had done so with little hesitation.

The sun had already gone down, but you were used to this. Initially, you had thought his job the opposite of himself—the demon was called to bizarre places sporadically and had to adapt to their settings in a short amount of time. You only realized after being with him for a while that he planned these things beforehand, and he planned them long ago.

The job was made for him—his little game of fate and chess.

He drove for around four hours straight. In that time, you had put on your favorite music, and talked with him about the usual—your latest philosophical obsession, anything interesting about his latest endeavors—you hadn’t realized you had gotten so far away from civilization.

Fyodor must’ve become nocturnal from all the time he’d spent in the dark, because it was pitch-black in all directions when he finally parked the car and you stepped out.

And only then you finally asked him. “Fedya, where are we?”

He didn’t respond, instead going to the back of the car and opening the trunk, handing you your sleeping bag and a flashlight.

You flipped the switch on, trying to scan the surroundings for any hint of where this journey took you.

“Darling, you’re quite naïve,” Fyodor said as you looked down at rocks and twigs below your shoes. “I’m concerned about how easily you agreed to let someone drive you hours out into the wilderness.”

“I’d do it only for you,” you replied, giggling. “I trust you.” Alas, he had answered your question, though you still didn’t know what he was here for.

“Follow me. We have a bit of hiking to do.”

…

A secret hideout? Meeting spot? Something valuable hidden here? Your mind came up with countless reasons why your lover’s current mission took place on a mountain and how he could even navigate without a map. The entire thing was strange—you hadn’t even seen him take any valuables of some kind besides a tent and his own sleeping bag.

The walk-up was a bit tedious. Thankfully, you wore the right shoes and had eaten well beforehand, but you still didn’t expect you would be partaking in exercise so late at night. It was also hard to see, the flashlights scarcely making a difference.

You came across a very steep hill; it was almost like you had to climb rather than hike up.

“Apologies for the inconvenience,” you heard Fyodor from above as he went first to ensure each step was safe. “It’ll be worth it later.”

“Ah-” You hardly had time to ponder his statement when you misstepped on a loose twig, causing you to slip. However, a hand reached to tightly grab you before you slid down.

“Careful, milaya.”

Fyodor kept your hand clasped in his throughout the rest of the trek. You finally reached a large clearing by the edge of a cliff—devoid of trees and hard bedrock.

“We’re here.”

He began setting up the tent while you looked around. There was nothing at all out of the ordinary—nothing suspicious for the demon to use. Were you really here just to camp?

“The goal: your eyes to adjust.”

Fyodor had finished and had been looking at you for some time—smiling, at the way your brows furrowed and how you were still lost with this entire night.

“What-?” you asked as he walked over to take your sleeping bag. You followed him as he set it right next to his.

“Sit next to me, lyubov,” he said, guiding you down. “I’ll tell you the secret to getting directions up here.”

He tilted his head up, and for the first time, you noticed an entire galaxy before you.

…

Drenched under the vastness of the dark skies and lights of the stars, Fyodor began to speak.

“We’ve used star navigation for thousands of years,” he said. “Fifty-eight stars and thirty-eight constellations that we’re able to use, but you only need to locate the Ursa Major to find north and Orion to find west.”

You nodded. Perhaps this is what he had come here to do—find directions to something that no GPS or technology recorded. He had probably taken you along just because he thought you’d admire the view and how you did. Fyodor was right—the walk-up was worth this view.

It was like you were in a trance. You had seen stars, but nothing like this before. The entire Milky Way galaxy was visible to your eyes, countless little suns that seemed barely out of your grasp, even though they were millions of miles away.

“Fedya, how many of them do you recognize by name?”

“By now, I have them all memorized because I’ve found it helpful. If an apocalypse surged the earth, they would still be there. If the world ended, they would still be there. The cosmos remain untouched by us—they watch humanity dance from afar. The nomads knew this the best—when we traveled, we relied on nothing but nature.”

You wondered how many body transfers it took for him to retain them all. There were so many little lights in the sky, it seemed near impossible to be able to gather even half in a mind’s jar. You guessed tens of years at the least, and even with that time, you knew only he could do it.

“You commend them too, don’t you?” you spoke, taking a risk in guessing his views.

“Elaborate for me.” You made eye contact with him, and amethyst eyes fawned over by the night almost enticed you even more than the entire view of the universe afore you.

“You appreciate them, and everything else that lays on the earth after the sun sets because they hold no flaw. They aren’t blemished by the foolishness of people.

“You can be at peace with them because they are perfect, unlike us.”

“You’re right. The perfect mankind would be as pure as the sun and the stars—untainted by something as unnatural as abilities. That’s how I see it, but why group yourself in such faults?”

“Hm?” was the only sound you were able to get out, when he grazed his fingers along your face, cupping your cheek.

“Printsessa, you are perfect.” He spoke smoothly, rich accent making his words sound like a lullaby.

“Your soul dances with the kosmos. Something so divine—you are the harmony of something as beautiful as what we see tonight.

“You are the only one who matches the heavens; my love, you surpass the heavens.”

He captured your lips in a kiss, and you only registered then that it was you two alone. It felt like you two were the only ones in the world with the witnesses to your love being the ends of the horizons, and that the universe who put on a show in the sky instead turned to watch you.

…

“Fedya…what was the mission?” you asked softly as you cuddled with him, your hands reaching for his silky hair as you lay on his chest.

You felt his smile. “You’re still so naïve, darling; you didn’t have to think so much. The mission was to bring you here. It’s been a while since we’ve gone out, has it not?”

SIGMA : i’ve never seen it before! (the aurora borealis) — he learns what love is through you.

“Sigma, baby, let’s go!”

The man had a slightly puzzled face as he let you eagerly lead him outside, past your home’s backyard—into the hills beyond. Other than the Sky Casino, it was your favorite spot, especially when you wanted some peace away from the rest of humanity and its industry.

Your lover was utterly confused why you made sure he did not fall asleep this evening. He always went to bed far earlier than you and rose while you were still lost in dream—perhaps snoring—but tonight you insisted.

And Sigma followed, even though he was at the verge of passing out from exhaustion—managing a casino was hard. He let you take his hand and direct him, even without a clue of where you were going.

Maybe that was what love was—blindly following another.

“I have a surprise.” You slightly turned your head back to look at him, and he swore he would remember this scene forever. His hand still clasped around yours, the warm glow of the back porch’s bistro lights cast upon your face, and your sweet smile—though it was dark outside, he felt that your smile lit up his world more than all the stars combined in the night sky.

The cosmos were a new thing for him. You had introduced watching the stars to him, in this special place beyond your backyard.

Immediately after his first time learning what the Big Dipper was, and that the little lights in the sky were actually much farther than they seemed, he called for a viewing deck to be created for the Sky Casino.

That way, even on nights away from you and home, he could still gaze at the same stars, and for you as well if you wanted to visit.

“Are we stargazing?” Sigma asked as you ran up one of the hills with him. He held a chuckle to himself. You didn’t bother to change out of your pajamas. You were so cute.

“It’s a little different this time,” you giggled, setting down a blanket for the two of you to sit. Before, you would bring foldable chairs, but you realized that they made it a bit difficult for you to cling onto Sigma when you wanted to cuddle with him.

“We should start to see it in just a few minutes,” you said, looking up.

“Okay…”

The stars were there as usual. Sigma had never thought that something as pretty as your heart could exist in something physical, but that was how he saw those small lights in the sky.

If only you knew that whenever you decided to talk about how beautiful the skies were at night, he wanted to say they were literally just a reflection of you.

As soon as the clock on your watch hit the next hour, you immediately grabbed Sigma’s arm in enthusiasm.

Now he was really starting to wonder what got you so jumpy.

“Hey! Do you see it?!”

Sigma caught himself so distracted by you that he was watching your face instead of where your eyes were looking at.

He blushed when you looked at him, but thankfully you remained oblivious to his embarrassment.

“The green light! Do you see it?”

Sigma looked up, and he saw what looked like sliver of green contrast the dusky sky.

“That’s natural,” you began to explain. “It works through the earth’s magnetic field colliding with the atmosphere.

“Watch how it dances.”

A show started to unfold before the two of you. Sigma watched as the small touch of light became even brighter, transforming into a ribbon. He watched as the ribbon began to travel across the sky, overtaking the darkness. He watched in awe as it was joined by another green stream, traversing the horizons together.

“Wow,” you both said in awe.

“It’s called the aurora borealis,” you spoke.

“You can see it regularly if you travel way up north, but it’s a rare event here.

“I wanted to experience it with you.”

Sigma turned to look back at you, butterflies in his tummy and a surge of warmth overflowing his heart when he met your face—cheeks glowing from the reflection of the chasma and your eyes full of adoration.

“With me?” Sigma asked.

“Of course,” you replied, pulling him up. “Look Sigma—a new color joined.”

He glanced up, seeing that a new hue had appeared, aligning itself with the green. A pinkish light had mixed itself in, creating a swirl of paints on the sky’s pallete.

It really seemed like the lights were dancing. And Sigma thought to himself—like me and her.

You seemed to have the same idea because you had taken his hands in yours and started to whirl him around. It was messy—a bit chaotic, but he let himself be dragged along for a bit until he got dizzy, because maybe love was blindly following someone.

Eventually, Sigma started laughing, and couldn’t be thrown around any longer. “Calm down, love!” He took control of the dance, guiding your steps so that it turned into a more organized waltz.

He became captivated when he twirled you around—even though you were in your pajamas, you couldn’t look any less beautiful. He had danced with you in ballrooms, in gardens, but this unrehearsed night was the most enchanting of all.

…

You two danced until your feet started to hurt and Sigma’s exhaustion finally got the best of him. Now, you lay together, watching the rest of the night’s act play out.

“Whenever I look at the nebulas, I only think of you now, you know,” you confessed. “Because even if you’re up there, and I’m down on earth, we’re still looking at the same stars together.”

“I think the same,” Sigma replied. “It’s like we’re always connected in some way.”

You nodded with a smile, but you realized Sigma wasn’t finished yet.

“Actually, it’s more than that. I can only think of you when I see those things because all beauty leads back to you. I see your kindness in the sun and your energy in these colorful lights. I see your perseverance in the moon and most importantly, how many hearts you’ve made shine in the stars.

“And whatever ends up the brightest at night is mine, because you’ve warmed my heart the most.”

Your own heart was beating fast, by how your lover had spoken so tenderly to you and by the way he had rolled over towards you so that he was so close now—his lips just shy of yours.

“Sigma,” you whispered, and then you pulled him into a kiss.

It was then he finally understood: love wasn’t about blindly following another, he followed you because you were a blessing of trust, carrying the stars of devotion on your hands.

i heard if you rb, u’ll be able to watch the stars w/ ur fav tn !! reblogs are cherished; they are what support me the most. <3

this fic wouldn’t have ever seen the light, weren’t for @cheriiyaya (hi); thank u bby for encouraging me start to finish. <3 a lil prompt inspo for dazai & fyodor from her. ^_^

p.s. did i imply a past!love triangle in dazai’s scenario? yes. was i referring to the fyozai ‘til death we do art love triangle? maybe..! actually, for some rzn, i included many things here that foreshadow other fics coming soon. stay tuned :)

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devilish-cherry · 2 months ago

Text

ᨳ♡₊➳ choso x reader

ᨳ♡₊➳ crack, fluff

"You fall for Choso a little more every day, but you think he doesn't feel the same. Choso has been in love with you since day one, but thinks you're taken. Now, if only you'd both figure this out."

ᨳ♡₊➳ a/n: request from this ask!

You met Choso at a grocery store.

Not in a cute, romantic comedy way where you both reached for the same overpriced organic avocado and your hands brushed, leading to a flustered meet-cute and eventual slow-burn romance. No. No. You met him because he was staring at a single head of cabbage like it had personally wronged him.

And he wasn’t just staring at it. He was glaring at it. Like full-on, laser-focused, resting-murder-face, anime-villain-music-playing-in-the-background type of intensity. He stood there, motionless, fists balled at his sides, exuding the kind of energy that made it seem like the cabbage had whispered something truly unforgivable about his mother.

Naturally, you did what any reasonable person would do: you stopped to watch.

You weren’t proud of it, but this was free entertainment. Some people pay for streaming services. You had this.

You observed in fascinated horror as this man continued his silent cabbage showdown. If he was having an existential crisis over the structure of leafy vegetables, he was committed to seeing it through.

After approximately three minutes of uninterrupted cabbage-staring, he suddenly turned and made direct eye contact with you.

Oh.

You, being the pinnacle of social grace under pressure, pointed at the cabbage and blurted out, “Do you need help?”

Choso, who you would later learn was the most socially inept man on the planet, stared for another agonizing moment before solemnly responding, “It does not make sense.”

“…The cabbage?”

He nodded. Very seriously.

You had no idea what to do with this information.

“What exactly doesn’t make sense?” you asked cautiously, like you were diffusing a bomb.

Choso’s brow furrowed deeper. He lifted one hand and gestured vaguely toward the cabbage, as though words alone could not convey the magnitude of his distress. “It is… round.”

You waited for him to elaborate. He did not.

You blinked. “...Yeah?”

Choso continued staring at it, clearly unaccepting of this fact. “But why?”

You took a slow breath. This was a crossroads in your life. You could walk away. Pretend this never happened. Resume your normal, non-cabbage-related existence.

Or, you could engage.

Like an absolute fool, you chose the second option.

And that’s how you spent the next ten minutes in the middle of the grocery store, giving an impromptu TED Talk on basic produce anatomy to a man who, by all accounts, looked like he had just been dropped onto Earth for the first time and was experiencing his own personal renaissance in Aisle 3.

And thus, a friendship was born.

You didn’t know much about Choso, other than the indisputable fact that he was, objectively, the strangest person you had ever met.

He rarely spoke unless spoken to, stared at people like he was trying to access their souls, and was so absurdly bad at human interaction that you had once witnessed him say “farewell” to a McDonald's worker, as if he was leaving on a life-threatening journey instead of just picking up his order. He didn’t seem to understand even the most basic human social norms—like how, when someone hands you change at a register, you don’t examine it like you’re determining whether it’s counterfeit.

So yeah. Socially, he was a disaster.

But despite all that, you found yourself increasingly drawn to him. There was something about his quiet presence, his unshakable calm, that made you feel at ease. He listened to you in a way no one else did, with an attentiveness that made you feel like the most important person in the room.

And then there were the little things.

The way he remembered your favorite tea even though you just briefly mentioned it in passing. The way he silently handed you his extra umbrella on rainy days because, somehow, he had already calculated that you would forget yours (again). The way he would tilt his head ever so slightly when you scrunched your nose in thought, like he was mentally cataloging the expression for future reference.

It was infuriating.

Because, against all reason, logic, and your own self-preservation instincts, you found yourself falling for him.

The problem? He didn’t feel the same way.

Or at least, that’s what you thought.

Choso, despite his complete lack of understanding regarding emotions, knew one thing for certain: he was in love with you.

And he knew it the second he met you.

The moment you spoke to him in the grocery store—when you, a complete stranger, willingly engaged in an impromptu TED Talk on cabbage physics instead of slowly backing away—something deep within him shifted. It was sudden, inexplicable, and deeply, deeply alarming. He had spent over a century with no real attachments outside of his brothers, had spent his existence floating through life with no concept of what it meant to want anything beyond survival and his brothers' safety.

And then you happened.

You, with your bright eyes, relentless patience, and ability to make even the most mundane things fascinating. Suddenly, Choso wanted more.

But Choso, in all his profound wisdom and utterly nonexistent romantic experience, believed you loved someone else.

And the reason?

A framed photo of a man on your nightstand.

A man you clearly cherished, a man you had chosen to keep in your most private space, right by your bed, watching over you as you slept.

Choso had seen it one night when he had visited your apartment for the first time. The moment his eyes landed on that framed image, his stomach had twisted with a foreign, awful feeling. He didn’t fully understand jealousy, but he knew he hated that photo. He hated the way it stood there, mocking him with its perfect, static, two-dimensional smugness.

From that moment on, he had resigned himself to the bitter truth. He had lost before he even had a chance.

So he swallowed his feelings. Buried them deep, deep down. And if he sometimes caught himself watching you a little too long, or memorizing the way your face lit up when you laughed, or wishing—just for a second—that the framed man didn’t exist, well. That was his problem.

The moment of truth arrived in the most ridiculous way possible.

You and Choso were watching a movie at your place, curled up on the couch in comfortable silence. Everything was normal. You were focused on the screen, lazily sipping from your drink, enjoying the warmth of his presence beside you.

And then, completely out of nowhere, Choso turned to you, his expression as serious as if he were about to announce the apocalypse.

“You love him, don’t you?”

You blinked. “…Huh?”

“The man on your nightstand.”

Your brain flatlined. “My—wait. What?”

Choso’s jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists on his lap. “The framed picture,” he clarified, like this was the most obvious thing in the world. “You love him.”

For a long moment, you just stared at him. Then, as the gears in your head sluggishly turned, realization slammed into you like a freight train.

Oh.

Oh no.

“…Choso.” You fought valiantly against the urge to laugh. “Are you talking about Keanu Reeves?”

Choso didn’t answer.

Just kept staring with that same grave intensity.

You lost it.

“Oh my god.” You slapped a hand over your mouth, wheezing. “Choso. That’s—” You gasped between laughs. “That’s not my boyfriend. That’s Keanu Reeves.”

He blinked. Once. Slowly. “…Who?”

“You don’t—” You exhaled sharply. “Oh my god. He’s an actor. A celebrity.” You gestured wildly in the general direction of your bedroom. “I don’t know him personally. That’s just a framed picture I keep because my friends gifted it to me as a joke.”

Choso’s continued to stare at you. You could practically see the gears in his brain grinding, processing this information in real time.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he muttered, “…Oh.”

You burst out laughing again, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. Choso, meanwhile, was going through about seventeen different emotions at once, but on the outside, his face remained locked in its usual blank stare, the human equivalent of a buffering symbol.

“So,” you wheezed, clutching your stomach, “you thought I was in love with Keanu Reeves this whole time?”

Choso didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just sat there, visibly reevaluating every single life choice that had led him to this moment. His voice, when it finally came, was solemn.

“…Yes.”

You gasped for breath between laughs. “For how long?”

“A hundred and seventeen days.”

You gaped at him, laughter halting. “You counted?”

“Yes,” he repeated, unwavering. Then, after a pause, he added, “It was a reasonable assumption.”

“No, it wasn’t!” You threw your hands in the air, incredulous. “It’s a framed meme! Do you really think I’d keep my boyfriend’s picture in a cheap novelty frame with the words ‘Baba Yaga’ in Comic Sans?”

Choso blinked, slowly. “…I do not know what that means.”

That was it. That finished you.

You completely lost it, collapsing back onto the couch in hysterics, clutching your sides. Choso just sat there, arms folded, staring intently at the floor like it had personally betrayed him, his aura radiating pure sulk.

After a full minute, your laughter finally quieted, replaced by something softer, something warmer. Your chest felt too tight, too full. You turned to him, your amusement melting into something gentler. Carefully, you reached for his hand, prying it open before lacing your fingers through his.

“Choso,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “I’ve been in love with you for months.”

Choso froze.

Like, full-body, Windows blue-screen-of-death levels of freezing.

You could practically hear the critical system error noises playing in his brain. His eyes flickered between your face, your intertwined hands, and the sheer sincerity in your voice.

His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. Nothing came out.

And then, in a voice so small it was almost unrecognizable, he asked, “You… have?”

You nodded. “Very much.”

Choso swallowed thickly. His fingers twitched against yours. “…Are you certain?”

You let out a small giggle. “Yes, Choso, I’m certain. This isn’t some elaborate prank. There’s no hidden camera crew waiting to jump out and humiliate you.” You smiled at him, warm and teasing.

Choso exhaled sharply, something between a breath and a disbelieving laugh. His grip tightened around your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in what you could only describe as stunned affection. He shook his head slightly, dazed. “I just… I thought I had lost.”

You squeezed his hand again. “You never even needed to compete.”

Choso stared at you, his expression shifting—something unspoken, fragile, and completely raw settling in his gaze. And then, very suddenly, very Choso-ly, he asked with the most serious tone:

“Do we kiss now?”

You snorted. “What kind of question—”

“I do not know the protocol.”

That nearly took you out.

Your breath hitched as you bit down a grin, shaking your head fondly. “You don’t have to kiss me right now, Choso."

He furrowed his brows, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “But… I want to.”

Your breath caught.

It wasn’t just the words—it was the way he said them. Blunt, honest, like the concept of wanting something—really wanting it—was still new to him, still foreign.

Your heart thudded, warmth flooding through your chest.

“Then…” You swallowed, feeling your own fingers twitch against his. “Then you can.”

Choso hesitated, his dark eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes, visibly weighing the situation like it was some high-stakes battle. And then, leaned in, movements stiff, careful, as if he was afraid he’d somehow mess it up. He tilted his head at an awkward angle, way too focused, like he was trying to solve a particularly complicated math problem.

And then—just as his lips barely brushed against yours—he suddenly pulled back.

You blinked. “What—”

“I must prepare.”

You stared. “...Prepare?"

“I need to Google how.”

You groan, dropping your head against his shoulder, and letting out a dramatic sigh as he fumbled for his phone like he was about to research The Most Effective Techniques for Optimal Lip Contact.

“You don't need to Google how.”

“I wish to do it correctly.” His tone was so serious, so earnest, that it took everything in you not to burst out laughing again.

“It’s literally just—” You cut yourself off, shaking your head in exasperation. “Oh my god, come here.”

Before he could protest, you reached up, cupped his face in your hands, and just did it yourself.

The kiss was soft, deliberate—your lips pressing firmly against his in a way that did not require an instructional YouTube tutorial.

Choso, for his part, went completely rigid for a solid two seconds, clearly hyper-analyzing every aspect of the situation in real time.

But then, something in him melted.

His hands, previously hovering like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you, finally settled on your waist—tentative but warm. The tension in his shoulders eased as he sank into you, tilting his head just right this time, as if realizing that, actually, this was quite nice and, actually, maybe he should’ve been doing this a lot sooner instead of spiraling over framed memes.

And just like that, the months of waiting, of quiet yearning, of all the ridiculous misunderstandings—including the great Keanu Reeves fiasco—all faded away.

When you finally pulled back, Choso just stared at you, utterly wrecked, looking like he had just been hit by a truck. “…Oh.”

You grinned. “Good ‘oh’ or bad ‘oh’?”

His lips parted slightly, as if trying to form words, but his brain was still buffering. “...Very good."

You let out a laugh, pressing your forehead against his. “Told you you didn’t need Google.”

Choso exhaled, and when he looked at you, it was with something so soft, so full of wonder, that your heart ached.

“I love you,” he murmured, quiet but sure.

Your breath hitched at the way he said it. So simple. So honest. Like a fact of the universe. Like gravity.

You smiled. “I love you too."

And that was apparently the final emotional straw, because Choso—completely overwhelmed—did what he always did when experiencing an emotion too strong for his body to handle:

He short-circuited.

Which, apparently, meant throwing himself forward and burying his face in your shoulder like a giant, overgrown cat.

You went stiff. “Choso?”

“Give me a moment,” came the muffled response from the deeply flustered voice against your shirt. “I am experiencing emotions.”

Your heart absolutely exploded.

You barely managed to choke down a laugh as you gingerly patted his back. “Uh. Take your time, big guy.”

He made small, quiet noise of contentment against your shoulder.

And that was how you ended up spending the rest of the evening with a very emotionally overwhelmed, 150-year-old half-cursed spirit wrapped around you like a human-weighted blanket—all because he thought you were in love with Keanu Reeves.

Honestly?

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #choso x reader #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen crack #choso x you #choso x y/n #jjk scenarios #jjk imagines

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nowimjustastranger · 6 months ago

Note

I don't know if this has already been asked before but has Stcmo Ford ever had to intervene in a world where Stanley took the journel(where that world's Ford wasn't sent through the portal) and planned for it to be the last thing he'd ever do before dying?

As he was trudging through the snow back to his car, Stan couldn't help but hear Ford's words play on an endless loop in his head, drowning out everything else. Stan had wanted so badly to shove the journal back at Ford after his brother had branded him, but he couldn't. Ford was right, he was always right.

So he kept the fucking diary and stormed out.

Ford didn't follow, so Stan must've said something about giving in to his brother's will before leaving, but he couldn't remember what had come out of his mouth. His head was swimming in a nauseating way as his shoulder screamed at him, his body shaking violently with every gust of wind.

He already knew that he wasn't going far. He just needed to get to the car, then he'd burn the stupid fucking journal and drive himself off the nearest cliff. He was tired. So very tired and hungry and cold. He had dropped everything just to come when his brother called, hoping against all hope that maybe they could finally talk.

He should know better than to entertain hope by now.

He didn't even realize someone was in front of him until he literally ran into them, stumbling back with a curse as he clutched his arm, a new burst of pain surging through his shoulder. He blinked the black spots out of his vision, squinting at the weirdo who was wearing a flashy all-black getup in the middle of a blizzard.

He would've noticed that something was off sooner if he hadn't been so worn down.

But, as it stood, he heard a sharp twang before a bolt was rushing past his ear from behind. Stan stiffened, adrenaline flooding his body when Ford yelled at him, ordering him to run to his car and get out of town as fast as he could.

He took a total of three stumbling steps toward his car before an arm was curling around his throat, getting him into a firm headlock. The stranger wasn't choking him though, so small mercies. Actually, it seemed like the guy was actively avoiding his brand, which was weird because why would that matter if he was gonna take Stan hostage anyway?

Stan tried to hold on to the journal, he really did, but the asshole pulled it away from his icy fingers with ease. Stan choked on what might've been a sob, devastated that he had failed the one task that he'd been given. How did he manage to keep fucking everything up so spectacularly?

He should've never been born.

"Stanley!" Ford shouted with no small amount of distress, clearly upset about his journal falling into the wrong hands on his front lawn. Stan couldn't look at him, couldn't bear to see the disappointment and anger that were surely coloring Ford's face right now.

"You can either have the journal or your brother." The stranger's voice carried over the howling wind, Stan's wide eyes darting to the book in the man's other hand with a sinking feeling in his gut. Stan already knew what Ford would pick, he had proved time and time again that he cared about his research more than he loved his brother.

"Let him go!" Ford seethed, the anger far more familiar to Stan, who finally braved a look at his brother. Ford was surprisingly close, only a few feet away with his crossbow loaded and aimed at the stranger. His expression was a mixture of terror and fury, his bloodshot eyes darting from Stan to the stranger several times.

He didn't look at the journal once.

"Is that your choice?" The stranger asked, the arm around Stan's neck slowly tightening, Stan's hands frantically prying at the dark fabric and flexing muscle with a pitiful wheeze that had Ford making an aborted movement toward him.

"Yes! Yes! I choose him!" Ford's voice cracked, face crumpling like he was about to burst into tears.

Stan grit his teeth and swung his elbow down to bury it into the man's kidney, the grip on his neck loosening just enough that Stan could twist and punch the asshole right in the chest, knocking the wind out of him.

Stan lunged for the journal, wrenching it from the man's grip as he kicked the bastard's knee, hearing the joint pop out of place. The guy grunted in pain as he went down, Stan scrambling toward his brother, who had lurched forward to meet him. Stan couldn't see what was happening, but he heard another bolt fire and then Ford was dropping the weapon to grab at Stan.

"He's gone! He's gone! He left!" Ford gasped as he dragged Stan to his feet, using his body as a crutch to keep Stan upright as the two of them unsteadily made their way back to the shack. Stan's legs gave out on him as soon as they were inside, Ford slamming and locking the door behind them with an urgency that bordered on manic.

"Ford..." Stan panted, slumped against the wall, and Ford was beside him in the blink of an eye.

"What? What is it? Did he hurt you?" Ford asked in rapid-fire, shaking hands fluttering over his body. Stan caught one, Ford flinching at how cold Stan's hand was.

"I... the journal... I got it back." Stan said breathlessly, weakly raising his other hand to offer it to Ford, who looked stunned as he stared at it. Maybe he didn't think Stan would bother to grab it? Just how little did Ford trust him?

It was Stan's turn to be speechless when Ford took the journal from him and carelessly set it aside before he was back to fussing over Stan, who was too busy blinking dumbly to stop Ford from accidentally touching the brand while searching for wounds.

Stan cried out, hunching on on himself as Ford profusely apologized, scurrying away after assuring Stan that he'd be back with his first aid kit. Stan kept his head down as he nodded, teeth grit against the pain. He was used to waiting. Waiting for the millions to miraculously come pouring in, waiting for Ford to reach out first, waiting for his next meal, waiting for rough hands to stop touching him.

Always waiting.

He heard Ford making a racket further in the house and decided that he could wait just a little longer.

#gravity falls #side quest #somebody to call my own au #ford pines #stan pines #stan and ford #stan twins #writing #ask box

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ghouldump · 10 months ago

Text

God Complex | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ you want out, realizing your little family isn’t as perfect as you thought, but they would never let you slip away so easily.

i definitely went overboard 😅

“Lestat, you don’t have to do this,” Louis stressed.

“She has to learn, it’s either this, or we are exposed,” Lestat said, shutting the coffin. Under the pebbles you laid, crying, begging for forgiveness. Despite your attempts to break free, the coffin wouldn’t budge.

“Louis, please, Lestat, I’m sorry,” you screamed, your voice falling on deaf ears, as he shut the door of the basement, leaving you alone at the bottom of the townhouse.

“Neither of you are to let her out, a few days will teach her a needed lesson,” he pointed at the two. Louis looked distressed, knowing his companion was right, despite his desire to argue. While Claudia frowned, saddened by your cries, but knew better than to go against her father’s words.

“I’m sorry,” you kept crying. If only you could take it back. This was your second time acting so careless, and you knew better than to think Lestat would let you do this a third.

From the moment Lestat turned you, you were a wildflower. He loved how animalistic you became, while Louis enjoyed how sweet you remained. Claudia was happy to finally have someone new in their lives, other than the two.

You were exceptional at hunting, and Lestat became lenient, oftentimes letting you wander. You’d find your meal, and quickly and efficiently discard the mess. However, when the arrogant salesman came into the bar, speaking to everyone as if they were beneath him, your tongue tingled at the sight.

The thought of him submitting and begging for mercy turned you on beyond comprehension. Biting your lip, you stood, approaching him, intentionally bumping his shoulder. His hand went to your waist, as he began to apologize, while his eyes not so discreetly roamed.

“Garret Anderson, darling,” he introduced, as you shook his hand.

“Hi,” you smiled, mischievously.

“Not him, choose someone else,” you heard Louis’s voice. Usually, you’d listen, but you couldn’t this time, not when the smell of his blood made you feel feral in the best way.

“Would you like to dance-

“Come with me,” you ignored him, grabbing his hand to pull him out of the establishment. He grinned, thinking he had won a prize when he was walking straight into the trap.

Pushing him into the dim alley, you slipped your tongue into his mouth, pressing your body against his own.

“Oh, I don’t think I got your name”

“You don’t worry about my name, sugar, just focus on my voice,” you told him, as he looked into your eyes.

“Ok,” he nodded, hypnotized.

“Y/n, Lestat doesn’t want you to choose him,” Claudia said, as you bare your teeth.

“It’s too late,” you spoke, biting his neck, drinking his life away.

“Please,” you heard him inaudible beg, his grip loosening from your arm, as his form began to weaken.

“What part of not him did you not understand?” Lestat asked, snappily, standing behind you, as you released the man, watching his corpse sink to the wet ground.

“Was I supposed to play with my food?” You pouted, the action usually worked, but this time he kept the harsh gaze.

“This man is related to Tom Anderson and the last person he has been seen with, was you,” he said angrily.

“I didn't know, and I always clean up after myself,” you defended.

“That isn’t the point, you get the order to choose another and you still chose to disobey, putting all of our lives at risk, again,” Lestat said, trying to keep his composure, feeling himself about to yell.

“We can talk about this when we get home, Claudia and I will clean up,” Louis said, hoping to de-escalate the situation.

However, after the body was burned, Lestat continued to yell, before deciding to bury you in the rock-filled coffin, as a punishment.

You weren’t sure how long you were locked away, starving. It could have only been days, but on an empty stomach, it felt like weeks. You cried for too many hours, begging, trying to communicate with Louis and Claudia - but no one ever came. No one would come, you’d be left here to starve to death until Lestat was ready to release you.

You began to dream, imagining yourself on all kinds of adventures. Traveling to different countries, tasting the different people, none of which Lestat planned on doing soon. He made the rules and you all went along, occasionally finding compromise. Finally, after what felt like forever, the coffin was opened.

Louis worriedly pulled you out, Claudia dusting the rocks off of you. Lestat didn’t say a word, standing behind the two, watching as they tended to you. Slowly approaching you, he placed his hand under you jaw, making you look up.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” he said, before making his way upstairs.

“Y/n,” you jumped, snapping out of the trance as Louis opened the coffin, holding his hand out for you to grab.

“Sorry,” you smiled sheepishly, as he grinned, helping you out.

“It’s alright, why don’t you get dressed, and we’ll be waiting on you,” he winked, leaving you to change.

As you made your way down the stairs, you kept your eyes down, feeling his gaze.

Claudia was first to swing the door open, excitedly skipping out of the house - Louis not too far behind. Gulping, you went to follow him, when Lestat grabbed your waist, stopping you.

“You look nice, ma chèrie,” he complimented.

“Thank you,” you smiled, rushing to join Louis.

You didn’t wander, staying close with the group, choosing the easiest target. You’d always preferred your meal flamboyant, the loudest in the room always had the sweetest blood. However, you were too afraid to upset Lestat, ending up in the cramped coffin again.

Cleaning your mouth, you sat on one of the many benches in the park. You were still hungry, starving actually. The pathetic excuse of a human was no where near filling. As Lestat and Louis approached, their meals close behind like lambs being led to the slaughter, you got up.

Entering the house, you were about to follow Claudia upstairs, when Lestat grabbed your hand, leading you back down.

“I want you to be more vigilant about prey, not neglect and starve yourself, come, we have a plus one,” he told you, before announcing to the trio of men you’d be joining them.

“Do you think there is more to life than New Orleans?” You asked your coworker, Carol.

“I ain’t got time to think about that Y/n, I’m 24 and already a widow with an infant,” she huffed, wiping the table.

Opening your eyes you stared up at the coffin, trying to think back. You didn’t remember too much about your mortal life, not even your family. You worked at a bar when you met Louis and Lestat, both incredibly charming. You were interesting to them, this wasn’t anything new for Lestat, he had no problem admiring multiple people. Louis on the other hand, was surprised by his interest. You were easy on the eyes with the kindest soul, lighting up the room with your presence.

You ended up getting pneumonia and despite taking the needed medication, you began to succumb. On the brink of death, you saw him, was he a god? angel of death? You didn’t know, tiredly watching as the two men exchanged words of agreement, before he lifted you, biting your neck.

You remembered the agony, throwing up as your body rejected your soul, killing itself. Louis carried you, while Lestat led the way, and the rest of your memory was gone.

Opening your coffin, you looked around the room, each side of you was a black coffin, empty. Noticing the small note on Lestat’s as you climbed out.

‘Louis and I have business to attend to this evening, I trust you will hunt with Claudia, ma chèrie’ - L

Sitting the letter down, you walked down the stairs. Knowing Claudia, she had already left. Slipping on your shoes you began to walk the streets. The memories replayed in the back of your mind, as your feet aimlessly moved. Recognizing your surroundings, you slowed down, staring into the bar you’d plucked the Anderson relative from.

Suddenly, someone bumped your shoulder, catching your attention. An older woman, holding shopping bags.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry-Y/n?” You were stuck like a dear caught in headlights.

“God has brought my baby home, don’t just stand there and give your mama a hug,” she sat the bags down, as you cautiously approached, letting her tightly wrap her arms around you.

You were thankful for the times you practiced restraint and self control. It had been nearly three years of being a vampire, stuck at 26 and you grew better and better at controlling your urges around mortals, despite the occasional slip ups.

“Mama?”

“Oh baby, I knew you’d come back eventually, how was New York?” She asked, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“New York?” You questioned, confused.

“Why don’t you come home, just for tonight?” She asked, hopeful. Slowly you nodded, letting her lead you to her car, handing the bags to her driver, you sat in the back seat next to her. Looking around, you hoped your surroundings would seem familiar but you had no clue where you were headed. After nearly fifteen minutes of driving, and your mother gushing about how much you were missed, the car began to slow down.

As the large house came into view, you frowned, unable to remember living there. The driver parked, and the front door opened.

“Did you get-Y/n? Y/n is back,” the younger boy who was exiting the house stopped, jumping for joy, screaming inside. A few more people came out, a familiar face catching your attention.

“Y/n,” the woman screamed, running to you, colliding into you, as she wrapped her arms around your waist.

“Carol, can you make sure Y/n is made comfortable,” your mother asked.

“Of course, mama,” she nodded, grabbing your hands, leading you into the house.

“What’s with your eyes?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” she let it go, as you stopped near the stairs, seeing all of the portraits. Family portraits. You stood amongst them, in the photos, even a painted portrait of yourself, along with your siblings.

“Daddy is going to be very happy to see you,” she smiled, pulling you up the stairs to a bedroom.

“Where is he?” You asked, eyeing the room before you sat next to her on the bed.

“At the sugar mill, duh, you know he’s a workaholic,” she laughed, before sitting up.

“So how have you been? The last time I saw you, you were going on and on about that De Pointe Du Lac,” she smirked, biting her lip.

“I’m fine, Louis is fine,” you nodded.

“My god, you married him? I hear he has a popular business in the quarter-

“No, we have a…companionship, if that makes sense,” you mumbled, as she raised her eyebrows.

“Oh? That’s nice-

“Daddy’s home,” the younger boy burst into the room, his eyes focused on you.

Standing up, you followed Carol from the room, down the stairs. Seeing the men and women standing downstairs, you stared plainly. These were your siblings and yet you couldn’t remember or feel a thing.

“It’s good to see you,” the man, your brother, smiled, pulling you into a side hug before you followed them into the dining room.

Your father sat already, at the head of the table. Turning to face you, he stood up, you could hear his heart pounding, trembling. Slowly approaching you, you spoke up.

“Daddy,” you tried to sound as normal as possible, when he slung his arms around you. He began to cry, while you listened in on his thoughts. You were his favorite.

“You two come sit, stop crying before I start too,” your mother laughed, as your father pulled away in agreement.

“So how was New York?”

“Yeah and why didn’t you say goodbye, like you send a letter and disappear for three years,” your younger sister interrupted.

“Deloris, stop it, I’m sure Y/n wanted to stop by but couldn’t,” your mother interjected.

“I-New York was fine, very beautiful,” you said, accepting one of the many bowls of food being passed along. Taking a small piece of meat, you sat it on your nearly empty plate.

“You came just in time for Joseph’s engagement, he’s met a fine young lady from Gretna, Sarah, she’ll be here in a few days,” your mother pointed at your brother.

“Finally, he’s nearly 30 and we never thought he’d get married,” your younger brother said, making everyone laugh.

“Congratulations,” you told Joseph.

“Thank you, and have you married, or are you with someone?”

“I have companions,” you smiled, nervously.

“Multiple?” Your father asked, stunned.

“One of them is Louis,” Carol clapped.

“The De Point Du Lac? I hear he lives with that French man-

“Lestat De Lioncourt, god to be under him for a night”

“Deloris, watch your mouth”

“Sorry”

“You managed to stay in contact with him, but couldn’t reach out to your family?” Your father spoke, a saddened expression.

“It’s complicated,” you mumbled.

“You don’t think it’s a bit…scandalous to have two lovers, who is the other?” your mother asked.

“Lestat,” you said, clearing your throat, bracing yourself as nearly everyone gasped.

“Lucky,” Deloris snickered.

‘Y/n, where are you?’ You heard Clauia’s voice, but you didn’t respond.

“Y/n, please tell me you're joking,” your father shook his head.

“I don’t think this is a laughing matter,” you said, straightening your posture.

‘Y/n, where are you at?’ Louis asked, making you clinch your jaw.

“You kept in contact with those peculiar men, but it never crossed your mind to come home,” he slightly raised his voice.

“I said it was complicated,” you screamed over him, stabbing the fork into the meat, breaking the plate, before standing up, going to storm out of the house.

“Y/n, wait,” your mother chased you, stopping you before you could leave.

“I’m sorry I came here,” you apologized.

“No no, everyone is handling you being home differently, stay, you can go up to your room, here, I have something for you,” she reached for your cold hand, her warm thumb brushing over your veins. Leading you upstairs in the room, she went to the nightstand, pulled out a diary, handing it to you.

“I kept it, in case you ever came home, and I made sure no one read it,” she smiled sadly, kissing your forehead before she turned to leave.

‘Ma chèrie, enough of this, come home’ Lestat said. You knew they were probably worried, for him to also use his powers to reach out to you.

‘I won’t be home tonight,’ you spoke, sending the message.

“Did you say something, honey?” Your mother stopped, turning to face you.

“No, ma’am,” you shook your head, watching as she exited the room.

Opening the book, your fingers traced down the words, the minor annotations, and little drawings on the side. You could still hear your vampire family faintly in your head when the room door opened.

“Hey, Daddy is sorry, he’s too ashamed of how he acted to face you right now, but I’m just letting you know, that Joseph, Antony, and Loretta left,” Carol spoke.

“Ok,” you chuckled.

“Also, I apologize in advance for the noise, Frankie is coming home soon and he is still a handful,” she laughed.

“Frankie?”

“Yes and he is going to be so excited to see his favorite Aunt,” she said, before shutting the door.

Closing the curtain, grabbing a pillow, and climbing under the bed, you read the diary. Entry to entry, you consumed the thoughts of your former self, your heart growing more confused as you began to remember. By the time you finished, Claudia and Louis became silent while the sun was peeking into the room.

Slamming the book shut, your mind ran wild, questioning everything you thought you’d known. Your nails digging into the floor. Feeling the bloody tear slip down your eye, you quickly wiped it, as a you heard a soft knock.

“Y/n? Y/n?” Your mother called out, a bit of panic in her voice.

“I’m under here,” you called out, waving from under the bed.

Lifting her dress, she moved to the floor, her eyes widening seeing you.

“What are you doing under here, honey?” She asked.

“I…I recently was diagnosed with a disease, my skin doesn’t react well in the sun anymore, burning, irritation, the doctor says I should avoid it altogether,” you said, almost feeling guilty for lying, hearing how much it saddened her thoughts.

“I see, give me a few hours and I’ll make sure things are more comfortable around here, you try to get some sleep, love you”

“I love you too,” you said, watching as she left the room.

‘Y/n, please tell me you are okay, we can’t sleep’ you heard Louis’s voice.

‘I am fine’

‘Where are you?’

‘That is none of any of your concerns’

‘Don’t be like that, what's the matter-

You shut your eyes, blocking out Louis’ voice, taking deep breaths, you thought about the words from the diary, as the sleep passed over you.

‘Mama and daddy have been arguing as of lately. I’m 25 with no boyfriend or engagement, still living with them. Daddy doesn’t see a problem with it, I have more time to find the perfect husband he argues, while Mama thinks I’m not even looking. I haven’t been, but that’s because as special as New Orleans is, no one seems special enough to catch my attention. Since the issue has come up, I’ve found myself with Carol more. She is trying to find a new husband, a new father for Frankie, since his dad died in the Navy’

“All of the bachelors come here, you just might find yourself a treat,” Carol giggled, as the two of you sat at the table. The fancy restaurant in the French Quarter wasn’t too interesting to you. You were already wealthy, and guaranteed quite the inheritance, while all of the women stood around, almost looking as if they were waiting on their lottery ticket.

“Do you ever wonder if there is more to life, than New Orleans?” You asked her boredly, as she made eye contact with the banker, waving at him.

“I ain’t got time to think about that Y/n, I’m 24 and already a widow with an infant,” she told you, standing, before walking to the man, sure to sway her hips, reeking of seduction.

Now alone, you sipped your wine, leaning back in your seat. The few men who looked your way eventually backed away, as you kept a scowl on your face.

“If you keep your face like that, it might get stuck,” you heard, making you turn to face the crèole man.

“If only I could see the appeal of this restaurant, then I wouldn’t frown,” you told him, as he sat down.

“I agree, everything is so tasteless and looks so-

“Cheap,” you and the blonde-haired man said at the same time, making you smile.

“I’m Y/n,” you held out your hand.

“Louis de Pointe du Lac,” he accepted your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles.

“And you, do you have a name?”

“Lestat De Lioncourt,” he said, taking your hand from Louis, kissing your knuckles.

“Would you like to get out of here?” Louis started.

“Sorry boys, I hope you didn’t think I was that easy,” you pouted, laughing as Carol approached.

“You ready to go?” You asked, seeing the look of disappointment on her face.

“Yeah,” she said, crossing her arms.

“It was wonderful to meet you both, goodbye”, you told them, standing up, and walking with Carol back to the car. Looking back, your eyes met theirs once more before you were on your way.

‘Lestat and Louis, there had been plenty of rumors that the two were lovers, even I was sure they were. However, they continued to reach out, inviting me to spend time with them. Carol’s friend, Lucy, thinks they might be competing to win my hand in marriage, but I think it’s far from that.’

“Mr. De Lioncourt hasn’t taken his eyes off of you all night,” Lucy bumped your shoulder, as you stood amongst the women. You were trying to not be “shameless” keeping your contact with Lestat and Louis to a minimum. However, their eyes had been glued on you from the moment you entered the party, and they weren’t even hiding it.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” one of the women rolled her eyes, perking up, as they approached.

“Ma chèrie, you never responded to our letter,” Lestat told you, as you stared at the two of them surprised but confused.

“With your flowers,” Louis said, as you gasped.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice a note with them, they are in my room, I’ll look when I’m home”

“Please do, we’re dying to know your response,” he told you, slinging his arm around Louis as they walked away. All of the women frowning in jealousy, while Carol laughed at them.

‘They are together, Lestat and Louis are together, but they like the idea of sharing? After a night of passion, I think it’s best that I stay away from the fabulously handsome men. I could never explain what happened to anyone without being judged, and so I will keep it to myself. They have been trying to reach out, but I am throwing every letter away. I hope they can understand.’

“I’m assuming you’re not a party girl?” Louis asked you, making you jump, swiftly turning around.

“This kind of party isn’t my thing, all of these people, hoping to get on my father’s good side, it's pathetic,” you crossed your arms, as he approached.

“How did you find where I was?” You asked him, tilting your head. You were hidden in your mother’s miniature hedge maze, sure no one would find you.

“I followed your scent, you always smell nice,” he grinned, while you rocked back and forth on your heels.

“You shouldn’t have followed me, what if I was a monster? luring you away from everyone,” you smirked at him.

“Trust me, you wouldn’t be the monster”

“Why do you think that?” You squinted at him, making him laugh.

“You’re too cute, too precious, you should be more careful, you could’ve been being followed by a big bad wolf,” he taunted.

“I can defend myself perfectly fine”

“Is that right?”

“Of course,” you smiled, watching as he leaned forward, his lips pressing against your own. Wrapping his arm around your waist, you moaned, before he pulled away.

Gasping, you noticed Lestat standing only feet away. Taking his usual confident strides, he stopped in front of Louis, the two sharing a passionate kiss. As the kiss broke off, he walked around to you, his hand softly going to the back of your neck, before he pulled you into a kiss.

“Be our companion…”

“Our’s alone…”

“Ok,” you agreed, not understanding at the time, the situation you'd put yourself in.

Standing in front and behind you, they took turns, kissing from your neck to mouth, slowly removing the articles of clothing. By the time you were finished, they laid in the grass, smiling, praising you, while you hurriedly dressed.

“I have to go,” you told them, running away, your hand going to your neck, where a bite mark resided.

‘My intuition was wrong about the two, Lestat and Louis are dangerous. Lestat seemed possessive, he didn’t like the idea of me entertaining another man besides him or Louis. But Louis, he seemed convinced I was perfect with the two of them, they both just seemed delusional. I recently caught the pneumonia virus and I’m trying to heal, and get over the fact that I was sick for my birthday but their constant sending of gifts isn’t making me feel any better.’

“Y/n, honey,” your mother called out, making you open your eyes.

“Yes?”

“It is safe to come out,” she said, as you slowly made your way out, noticing the windows covered by a board.

Leading you down the stairs, you felt uncomfortable seeing your siblings stare at you like an animal in zoo.

“Mama told us about your skin condition, I’m sorry, I-we can have the engagement at night,” Joseph offered.

“I couldn’t do that to you-

“It would be a pleasure, I want you there, and Sarah won’t mind, she’ll be here tomorrow”

“Then I’d love that,” you smiled, nodding.

“Wonderful, I have something you can wear,” your mother clapped.

“I was hoping I could talk to you, about something,” you told your mother, as she sat on the sofa.

“Okay, what’s on your mind?”

“Do you remember when I was sick, with the pneumonia?”

“Yes”

“When I was staying in the hospital-

“Hospital? You didn’t stay in a hospital, you were in your room. We were so worried, when you first caught it, but your body fought hard, you were better in no time,” she said, her hand on her heart.

“How long was I here before I left, for New York? Reading the diary has my brain a little foggy,” you told her.

“Only a few days after, I believe, before you left your letter,” she said, looking away at the memory.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, trying to remember what happened. The fuzzy memory slightly coming back.

“It’s okay, honey, you’re here now,” she waved.

Sitting up in bed, pillows propped up behind you, you listened to the vinyl jazz music. Playing low in the room you hummed lightly. Everyone had left the previous day, going to see relatives, but you were still too sick to go. Although you were already feeling better, no longer bed-bound with a nasty fever. Hearing the sound of the front door opening, your ears perked up, as you climbed out of the bed. Stopping the music, you slowly tiptoed out of the room, stopping at the top of the stairs

“Ma chèrie, it isn’t nice to ignore people who care about you,” Lestat said from the bottom of the stairs.

Shaking your head, you went to run, bumping into Louis. Who also, didn’t look too happy, backing down the stairs, you froze, seeing Lestat slowly walk up to you. You were trapped, dropping to your knees, you shielded yourself.

“Please,” you covered your face, gasping in confusion as you were lifted, carefully brought to the sofa in the living room.

“You haven’t seen any of our letters?” Louis asked angrily before Lestat spoke.

“You ignored us out of society-inflicted shame,” Lestat started.

“No, it was nothing more than casual sex,” you said before he squished your cheeks together.

“If you weren’t so afraid of being judged by society, would you continue to deny yourself the pleasures you deserve?” Lestat asked, sitting next to you.

“One of you bit me, I don’t think I want either of you,” you told him as he chuckled before you noticed his abnormally sharp teeth. Fangs.

“She doesn't want us, hear that Louis, we’re being rejected by our companion,” Lestat laughed loudly, as Louis stared at you as if you had two heads.

Suddenly, the front door opened, and your parents and your younger siblings entered the house. Doing a double take, your father frowned.

“What's going on in here?”

“Nothing Daddy, we're just talking,” you stood up, moving in between him and the two peculiar men. Looking at them, you noticed the fangs in Louis's mouth.

“I don't think so, you two boys need to leave my house,” he said, the look on their faces showed they were highly offended at the choice of words.

“I am no boy, I am much older than you…” Lestat stood up.

“Don't hurt them,” you told them, your eyes going from Louis to Lestat.

“Perhaps we can get to an agreement, they are spared, in exchange for your companionship,” Lestat offered. You searched for his face, trying to see if he was serious, while he stood, waiting on your response.

“Fine,” you sighed, watching as Louis approached your family, putting them into a trance.

“You came home and went straight to bed, Y/n was feeling better and decided to spend time with some friends tonight-

“You should grab your things, ma chérie, and don't worry, that shame and fear instilled into you will be no more in a short while,” he told you, ushering you to go upstairs, while Louis made up a story to your family.

By the time you finished packing, they were gone, only Louis and Lestat waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. Not saying a word, you followed them to the car, trying to let the realization sink in, but it still all seemed surreal.

Entering their home you nervously followed them, into the bedroom.

“You can meet Claudia later,” Louis said, as they stared at you.

“Your daughter?”

“Our daughter,” he corrected you, but nodded.

“Ok”

“Y/n, the love that we’ve grown for you, it’s inhumanly, meant to be shared for an eternity, we can give you that,” Louis told you.

“You’re scared, I can make sure you don’t feel any pain, I can give you a piece of everlasting life. None of the things you have in this life hold any value to you, but I can give you something you will cherish,” Lestat told you.

“Choose us and we’ll choose you for the rest of eternity,” Louis said, before you hesitatingly nodded.

“You won’t be in pain for long,” Lestat told you, before he pulled you close, biting into your neck. Falling limb in his arms, he laid you on the bed, cutting his wrist, feeding his blood to you.

Shortly after, your body felt like it was on fire, your vision blurry. The two men stood over you, talking, Louis asking for a favor and Lestat debating on if he wanted to give in.

“Do it, before it’s too late, please,” he said, before Lestat looked at him, nodding, and facing you.

“Look at me, ma chèrie, you used to be a waitress at a bar…we were frequent customers when you met us….” As Lestat told you the fabricated story, he made sure to completely conceal your memory of your mortal life, as Louis requested.

As the memory came to mind your hands went to your eyes, trying to stop the bloody tears from leaking. The memory that changed the way that you viewed your maker and companions.

“Are you alright dear?” your mother asked, worried.

“I'm fine, mama, just happy to be home,” you told her, making her smile.

“Awe, honey, I'm glad that you are home, we all are,” she gushed, pulling you into a firm hug, before continuing with her conversation with your sibling.

‘Y/n’ Louis called out to you.

“Excuse me,” you said, getting up, going to the bathroom.

‘Leave me alone, please’ you told him.

‘Where is this coming from?’

‘I just need this time away, it’s just me time’ you told him, staring at your reflection.

‘Y/n, are you coming home?’ You heard Claudia.

‘Eventually’

‘Alright, love you’

‘Love you too’ you told her, before leaving the bathroom.

“Y/n, I just wanted to apologize for my outburst last night. What you do in your private life is your business, and I’m happy you’re home,” your father said, nervously, as you came back into the living room. Smiling, you didn’t say anything, approaching him, pulling him into a hug.

As night fell, everyone turning in for bed, you went to the backyard, thankful to find a few rodents to feed on. With your hunger satisfied, you went to your room. Sitting at the desk, you ripping a piece of paper from the diary, grabbing an envelope from the drawer.

‘I don’t think this companionship will work out anymore. Lie after lie, neither of you have been honest or truthful with me. I thought relationships were built and thrived on trust. Not ours, a big lie to feed both of your delusional obsessions. Stay away from me. I will be leaving New Orleans soon, probably headed back to New York’ you wrote, placing a stamp on the envelope.

“Hey,” you called out, as you went outside stopping the teenage boy on his bike.

“Bring this to Lestat De Lioncourt, his address is 1132 Royal Street,” you hypnotized the boy.

“But that’s all the way in the French Quarter,” he said in a monotone voice.

“I know, you will go right before the sun rises and it is okay because you were paid to do this,” you told him, watching as he smiled.

“You’re right,” he nodded, accepting the letter, before taking the money in his other hand, stuffing it into his pocket.

“Go on now, it’s getting late,” you told him, as he nodded, riding home to his house as you went inside.

“Y/n, you okay, darling?” Your father stood at the top of the stares.

“I’m ok, daddy,” you smiled, going upstairs to your bedroom.

Just as the sun began to rise, the young boy peddled his bike, careful to stay out of the way of any cars. For a second he wished his dad could have driven him, the 30 minutes bike ride would have been much shorter in a car.

Finally, he arrived, panting, he approached the townhouse. Opening the gate, he approached the door. Knocking softly, before speaking.

“Mail for Lestat De Lioncourt,” he said, pushing the letter through the mail slot, before he left to peddle home.

Still wide awake, Lestat stood from his piano, approaching the door, stopping. He watched at the young hand slipped in, the letter floating to the floor, before the sound of the footsteps became distant.

Reading the letter, he felt a series of emotions, sadness, rage, disappointment.

“Louis,” he called out, his companion jogged down the stairs in confusion.

“Yeah?”

“Y/n remembers,” he gulped, as the two looked at each other.

“Looks like we’ll have to make a stop tonight,” Louis said, before going back to his coffin.

“You’re just as beautiful as Joseph said you were,” you gushed to Sarah. The house was filled with guests, the sun had set not too long ago, and the night was still young.

“Oh my, thank you, he talked about you all the time, I never thought I’d meet you,” she said.

“Y/n, come here,” Carol called from the kitchen, before you excused yourself, joining her.

“What?”

“Mr. Alexandre is asking to see you,” she lightly pushed you in the direction of the living room.

“Who?”

“He’s one of Daddy’s associates, he’s young, rich, and handsome,” she said.

“And why don’t you talk to him?”

“He wants to speak with you and I’d prefer his brother, I hear he’s a widower,” she whispered, as you turned, walking towards where the man stood, amongst a few other businessmen.

“Miss Y/n,” the man called out, stepping forward.

“Mr. Alexandre,” you said, accepting his hand.

“If I could have a moment with you…”

“You may,” you said, walking into the hallway with him, near the stairs. You could feel his colleagues staring at the two of you.

“What is it?”

“I was hoping I could take you out for dinner, perhaps the steamboat, there is a nice band that plays-

“I am sorry, but no thank you,” you shook your head, about to leave, but he gripped your forearm.

“A little birdy told me that you have a thing going on with the European and crèole man in the quarter, I thought they were homo-

“Mr. Alexandre, my personal business is none of your concern”

“Then to have that little girl with them, like she’s their daughter, it’s twisted. You don’t need to get involved with them, tarnishing your reputation,” he said, making you think back to the society-inflicted shame Lestat spoke about.

“Do not speak about my reputation or any of them,” you shoved him, watching as he collided into the wall. A few people gasped, coming to see what was the commotion.

“Y/n, what happened?” Your father asked as the front door opened.

Along with a gust of wind Lestat, Louis, and Claudia all walked in, heads turning as everyone murmured about them. All of the eyes were on them and they never looked their way, solely focused on you.

“Y/n, why haven’t you come home?” Claudia ran to you, pulling you into a hug. You could feel how tense she felt, you frowned at the thought of her being upset.

“I’m sorry,” you told her, closing your eyes and taking in her usually sweet scent.

“Y/n,” your mother called out, now standing next to your father, a confused expression in place.

Before you could say anything, Lestat turned her way, gasping, you stepped up, when he turned facing you. Immediately you stopped, your eyes going down, while he moved closer.

“Madame,” he held out his hand, accepting hers, before placing a soft kiss on it.

“Get away from my wife,” your father said, taking her hand back.

“So you was gonna leave home?” Louis asked you, taking off his glasses.

“You lied to me, both of you did,” you told him.

“Louis, what is she talking about?”

“Nothing, go wait outside Claudia”

“Louis-

“It’s okay, go wait outside,” you told her, watching as she walked away, bumping the shoulder of a few guests, scaring them.

“You…both of you, did this to me, and for what? to satisfy your fantasies-

“To save you, you don’t belong with these people, their rules and principles, your nature goes against all of it. You could have never been happy with the way they wanted you to become,” Lestat told you.

“Y/n, it’s not safe to be around any of them, how long do you think you’ll be able to resist your urges, it’s best to leave them where they’re at,” Louis told you.

“Is this the brainwash they both feed you, two queer men trying to destroy and isolate everything you’ve known. I wouldn’t burden you with such ideologies,” Mr. Alexandre said, standing up, limping off the pain.

“And what are those ideologies, you speak of?” The tension thickened in the room as Lestat was in front of him within a flash.

“I-I-“ he began to stutter.

“These ideologies include being unapologetic even if it goes against society, not putting limitations on yourself, and redefining what family is. None of these things you know anything of because you think Y/n is as brainless as the rest of these women,” Lestat said before roughly grabbing his jaw.

“You could learn a thing or two before you let your mouth run so loosely,” he said, shoving him, watching as he collided with the wall, breaking through the wallpaper.

“Now you-

Lestat raised his hand, freezing everyone in the room, as your father began to yell.

“Your memory was wiped away, but everything has been real. Our love, Claudia’s love, nothing was forced. These people have caused you nothing but anxiety and shame, but if you want to throw us away, for them, I won’t stop you,” Lestat screamed, storming away, as the bloody tear slipped from his eyes.

“I thought I could balance both lives, it isn’t possible,” Louis told you, as you kept your head down.

“Is it possible to take away their memory, I won’t kill them, if they could just go on with their lives like before I was here,” you asked, while he immediately nodded.

Lestat had been right about so many things, how different you were, the restrictions you felt in your previous life. You weren’t ready to be on your own, you still needed your family. Perhaps it was better for you to not have been aware of the truth, to begin with.

“That can be arranged,” he said, motioning for you to go outside with Claudia. Stopping in front of your mother, you kissed her cheek, before leaving the house.

Getting into the backseat of the car with Claudia, she intertwined her fingers with your own. Lestat didn’t say a word to you, walking back into the house, as everyone unfroze.

After nearly 15 long minutes, the two left the house. You could see the party continuing, Carol could be seen with a small boy in her arms, accepting him from an older woman. The entire ride home was painfully quiet. The faint music from the locals could be heard as the house came more into view.

Claudia went to her room, while you meekly followed the two to your shared room. Stepping out of their clothing, they were preparing for rest, when you stopped.

“Lestat, I-please make me forget again,” you asked, making them look at each other, before staring at you.

“After all of this-

Moving to your knees, you crawled to him, prepared to beg to him, as if he was your god. Raising his eyebrow, even he looked surprised by your actions.

“Please make me forget, and we can go back to how we were,” you told him. Reaching for his hand, your head laid upon it, begging for your wish to be granted.

“Stand up, ma chèrie”

“How was the hunt?” Louis asked as you and Claudia both entered the house.

“Wonderful,” you laughed, plopping next to him. Lestat sat at his piano, idly pressing the keys that still managed to sound effortless.

“What are you doing?” You asked Louis, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Catching up on the paper, gorgeous,” he smiled, flipping the newspaper.

Your eyes widened at the image of the article, L/n Sugar Mill family home is burned down, leaving no survivors after an extravagant engagement party.

“Wow, and that was such a nice house,” you said, pointing out the picture, before picking up a nearby book.

“It was,” Louis agreed lowly, the trio briefly making eye contact.

With your memory wiped once again, the last thing any of them wanted was another situation that could cause you to want to break away from them. No one could ever come close to loving you like the three and they made sure there was no would who would awaken your memories, tearing you away from your little family.

this may or may not be deleted later …

#lestat x reader #lestat de lioncourt x reader #louis x reader #louis de pointe du lac x reader #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv

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