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eddiemunson-reader-shame · 28 days ago

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Be My Wife: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: A “friend” freaks out when you split a Coke with Eddie the Freak.

Warnings: references to A Clockwork Orange, bullying, STI/STD mention, backwash drinking

A/N: So… I know this isn’t a Christmas fic. But I wrote this because I had those times in my youth where someone spread horrid rumors about either me or my friends, and I had to make those split second decisions to determine my loyalty. I always try to be loyal as best I can.

Thank you to @writhingg for giving the green light on this fic. And big thanks to @rxqueenotd and @melodymunson as well. And big thanks to viewers like you. Thank you. ❤️

Resources: @strangergraphics-archive for the dividers.

Taglist: @ali-r3n @melodymunson @twihard28

“Hey droogie, can I have a sip of your Coke?”

You looked up from where you were perched on the pony wall by the Seven Eleven bike rack. You had been chatting with a classmate, Chessie Hagar, about purchasing a purse from her mother’s Avon Colorworks catalog. It was a new collection for the year 1977. Said eye catching magazine with its spread of rainbow themed products was currently held between the two of you, and the pages began to rattle as Chessie shook in fear upon hearing the deep voice.

A flutter-smack sounded from the girl dropping the catalog when Eddie The Freak approached. His stride was casual as one could be, whilst battling both midwestern humidity and pit sweat in a white hand-me-down Jimi Hendrix shirt and sleeveless denim vest. As one of the middle schoolers who had been blessed with a growth spurt, his lanky height, shredded second hand clothes, and shaved head often made those in your grade— and some of those above— piss their pants.

You alone did not fear him.

The Fates had elected to weave you both in a tangled web of coincidences: you had been his project partner in every shared class since you started at Hawkins Middle School together, and you just so happened to live in the same neighborhood on occasion. The distance from Al Munson’s janky two bedroom home to yours was but a hop skip and a jump. Eddie used to ding dong ditch your house when he was six, until one day your mother caught him by the ear and brought him in to mend his tattered jeans and offer up a hot meal.

To any other rando, he was an unstable pariah. But to you, he was just Eddie Munson— the cute boy next door who sometimes ate at your place. And you had become his droog after spending winter 1972 sneaking into the Hawk Theater, and making Stanley Kubrick films your new big boy personalities.

Without thinking, you handed the soft drink over. His fingers brushed against yours as he took the Coke out of your grip and went for a swig, with plush pink lips wrapping around the transparent jade glass of the lip and neck. His protruding Adam’s apple was bobbing with the rhythmic gulping, and you couldn’t stop staring.

“Thanks.” He belched out.

“You said a sip, not half the goddamn bottle!” You whined.

Eddie grinned sheepishly and backwashed a good mouthful. Giving a half assed apology and a promise to pay you back mumbled under his breath, he handed the bottle back.

“Still up for doing last minute project prep?” You asked, swirling the leftovers he’d saved for you.

“Nah, let’s take a break from the train wreck brothers. Catch you tomorrow, though?” He said, scratching a blackhead off his nose and snorting a bit, “I had an idea for the oral report that might earn us a little extra credit. Think you can mimic a British accent?”

“Eh. Can’t do an accent without sounding like fucking Alex DeLarge.” You groused.

“We can work on that. Leave your milk-plus at home, though. Don’t want me own droog reenacting some Roman ultra violence on me.”

“Just don’t go popping out from behind your curtains at me again, that’s a good way to get stabbed in the neck with my mom’s kitchen scissors.” You snorted.

“Ahhh, the droog’s no fun. I guess I can tone down the surprise pop ups, though. If you insist. Catch you later?” Eddie said, waving.

“Later. Peace out, man.”

Chessie let out a shaky, sobbing exhale when you made to drink the dregs of your soda, and you turned and raised an eyebrow.

“Whassamatter?” You asked.

“Are you nuts?! You just shared your drink with the freak!” She blurted out.

… since when the hell was sharing with Eddie a crime?

“Yeah, so? It’s hot out. He looked thirsty.” You said.

“Did you seriously forget everything we’ve heard about him?!” She whisper-screamed, “Don’t you care what everyone talks about?!”

You rolled your eyes. Everyone talked about Eddie. If you hadn’t heard at least one rumor from a faceless student whenever he walked by, you were either stupid or living under a rock. They said he was a bad boy— yes, even with a full vocabulary of slurs and insults available, they still called him a bad boy. Like if he was still in diapers drawing with crayon on the wall, and needed a spanking.

Depending on who you asked, Eddie either did or sold drugs, it was never clear which. Some of the other trailer park kids said he was a mean scrapper when he went to his uncle’s on alternate weeks. Women’s restroom lore stated that he carried a switchblade in the back pocket of his Wrangler jeans, and that he used it to torture animals for his Satanic rituals.

A million and one things were said about him on the daily, but you knew none of them were true in the slightest. None of the talk deterred you from spending time with him. Sometimes he came to your house, more often than not you went to his.

Every other day found the two of you parked in front of his mom’s turntable, jamming to Deep Purple and putting together an elaborate poster board with some spray painted fake leaves made into laurel crowns, along with a block of text about your chosen co-emperor of the early Roman Empire.

You had wanted to write about Caligula so you could use the word ‘orgy’ in the report without getting in trouble, but Eddie had insisted he had a better idea when he discovered a two years tumultuous ruling of brothers from 209 AD to 211 AD.

“As much as I love a good sex party on paper, you just know that’s what everyone else is gonna write about. Let’s write about this nut job Caracalla instead! Dude killed his brother in the arms of his mother, and struck his name from the record. That’s like, the most metal shit ever! Also, here’s a better word for you to learn: fratricide. Apparently there’s a whole list of technical terms for when you kill a family member.”

“… what’s the rumor mill gotta do with my Coke?” You deadpanned.

“If you drink after him, you’re gonna get mono like Cindy! You gotta throw it out!”

Cindy Bishop in your science class had told everyone that had functional ears— swearing up and down on her life— that Eddie Munson had kissed her and given her mononucleosis. A dreaded affliction whose nickname to you sounded like one of the variations of sound formats for any sort of audio.

“Mono…?”

“Yes! Or the syph!”

You knew Eddie had to have heard Chessie’s vitriol. Turning around, you could see him staring at the two of you from across the parking lot, one leg over his bike. There was a stinging look of betrayal on his face. Telltale signs of a wet cherry nose and shameful red cheeks gave away his mistrust; as if he was expecting you to do as your friend told, and throw the bottle he drank from in the trash.

His imaginary affliction was just that: imaginary. You knew that to be gospel.

The kiss with Cindy was real, unfortunately. It happened way before Cindy was kept home with mono, and you remembered the incident well. Eddie had come running to your house just to brag that he’d finally gotten his first kiss, and that pretty soon he’d be popping girl’s cherries left and right.

Just learning about the simple kiss had pissed you off, because the closest you’d ever gotten to kissing Eddie was sharing the same fork whenever you both roasted Vienna sausages on the gas burner in his kitchen. Eddie hadn’t been sick when Cindy stayed home, he came faithfully to school to trap you on the playground and speculate about the thousand and one hidden meanings behind the kiss.

With all the excitement, he never noticed the smallest details like you did. One of the guys in your PE class had been sent home with a rash and a high fever, and it was only a month after Cindy was rumored to have also kissed the collapsed boy that she got sick. You had always shared cups, utensils, and other things requiring mouth use with Eddie and had been fine. Yet Cindy and Tommy Hagan swapped spit once, and both were out of commission.

But no one would ever say anything about Tommy Hagan getting mono. They’d always redirect every disease outbreak to the poor loser who split time between Cherry Street and Forest Hills Trailer Park. The same poor loser who had the misfortune of wasting his first kiss with Cindy; a girl who frenched behind the portable classrooms with anything that had a pulse. People could be so blind and stupid, they failed to notice the sickness timelines were not matching up.

No one deserved their first anything to be with Cindy. Not with the way she stabbed people in the back.

You took a long, hard pause as you stared into Eddie’s wet brown eyes. He was asking you a silent question you already knew the answer to: were you a stinking traitorous droog, or a loyal one? Were you, his one friend in the entire world, going to stand against him?

Without saying a word, you looked at Chessie, then looked back again at Eddie.

In a world of traitors— where brothers stabbed brothers in the arms of their mothers, or where violent men disowned each other with drug laced milk bottles to the face, you would always pick instead to be Eddie Munson’s loyal droog.

You lathed at the lip of the bottle and stuck your tongue down the neck, and shotgunned all of Eddie’s backwash.

Chessie’s mouth dropped open as she began to gag, and Eddie opened his mouth in an obnoxious and breathless laugh as you chugged the entirety of his germs. The carbonation caught up to you, so you let a belch rip before turning back around to face him.

“I GOT YOUR MONO NOW, MUNSON!” You screamed out to him, “NOW YOU GOTTA MARRY ME!”

“IS THAT HOW IT WORKS, DROOGIE?” He shouted back, a shit eating grin stretched across his face, “YOU SHOULD HAVE LET ME KNOW BEFORE I TOOK A SWIG, I WOULD HAVE MADE SURE I GOT YOU A RING POP FIRST!”

“IT'S GODDAMN ROMAN CONFARREATIO LAWS, EDDIE! YOU GAVE ME MONO INSTEAD OF SPELT BREAD, NOW YOU GOTTA MARRY ME!” You joked.

You noticed from the big, smart ass grin that he was about to do something outrageous, and your heart began to sing. He immediately got to his knee on the asphalt, everyone in the Seven Eleven parking lot watching as he began to scream like an orator in the colosseum. He used your full government name and everything when he called out to the small parking lot audience.

“HEAR ME, CITIZENS OF HAWKINS! I AM BUT A VESSEL FOR THE GODS, A BEARER, A MESSENGER OF THAT MOST HOLY WORD FROM MOUNT OLYMPUS! I HAVE SHARED OF THE COOTIE WITH A WOMAN, AND THUS OUR MARRIAGE BETWEEN EMPEROR AND DROOG IS SOLEMNIZED-…!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, FREAK!” Someone called out, immediately flinching back when Eddie rounded on him.

“THE GODS. HAVE. SPOKEN!” Eddie screeched, a glob of spit flying out of his mouth and onto the hot asphalt.

He was wide eyed. Deranged. Eddie lifted up the hem of his denim vest and held it out and to the side, to look like wings unfurling, screaming to the heavens as you began howling with him.

“YEAH!” You screamed out, raising your bottle and shouting every bit of nonsense you could think of, “GOD SANCTIONED DROOG MARRIAGE CO-RULER ULTRA-VIOLENCE! MAZEL TOV!”

“THE IMPERIAL HUSBAND NOW DEMANDS TO KISS THE DROOG BRIDE!” Eddie screamed, “PLANT ONE ON ME, GODDESS DIVINE OF THE REPUBLIC OF HAWKINS!!”

You looked at Chessie, who looked as if she was going to throw up or scream. It wasn’t immediately clear which. Instead of ending the joke, you grinned. Shrugged. The glossy magazine paper pages of the forgotten Avon Colorworks catalog ripped under the tread of your shoes when— without warning— you took off towards Eddie, and planted a fat wet kiss on his mouth. He froze for a moment, but returned the kiss with fervor, making an obnoxious hum and wet smack when you pulled away.

“Yum.” You gushed, licking your lips and changing your cadence to the unhinged Kubrick Cockney, “Them’s tasty cooties, they are, brother sir!”

“Yeah? Them false cytomegalovirus germs are what taste good to ya, droog?” He laughed, wrapping his arms around you and putting on his own terrible accent.

“That they are, sir, that’s what gives all me food and drink that plus flavor.” You grinned.

The two of you cackled, thoroughly enjoying throwing out random quotes and various insanities that to the normal person would put them off of your insanity and edge-lord humor. Chessie had long since taken off for the gated community of Loch Nora on her bike, but you didn’t care. You could live without a selection of eyeshadows, a rainbow tote purse, and all of your false friends if the choice came down to choosing them, or Eddie.

“Wanna go into the gas station and split another bottle of mono before we blow this joint?” You asked.

His grin could have rivaled that of Malcolm McDowell.

“Now, how can I say no to my new wife?” He grinned, holding out his arm for you to take, “But I am a man of my word, so you’re getting a new Coke, plus that Ring Pop so’s we can make this thing official.”

“Spare no expense, huh?” You grinned, and he pulled you in closer. Both of your hips knocking together.

“Hey… Only the best and finest gems and refreshments for Empress Droog the First of Hawkins, Indiana.” Eddie said with a confident smile.

You smiled at him, nudging one another with your bodies all the way into the gas station, until he pulled you in for another sloppy kiss in the middle of the snack aisle.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson fandom #joseph quinn #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson fanfic #fluff #friends to lovers #Spotify

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bryan-writes · 3 months ago

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Green smoke and golden smiles— barty crouch jr x reader

Summary: you find yourself at a Gryffindor party, celebrating with Lily and the marauders on a win against Slytherin. Barty decides to crash it, prank the Gryffindors and steal you away to get to know you.

Hufflepuff reader, fluff, Barty calls reader darling and my lady, super cute!

Credit to @strangergraphics-archive for the lovely dividers :)

The Gryffindor common room was alive in a way that only followed a narrow victory against Slytherin. Laughter and voices bounced off the stone walls, and red and gold streamers, charmed to burst into mini-fireworks, spiraled across the ceiling in dizzying loops. Near the bar, which boasted an impressive line-up of Butterbeer, Firewhiskey, and an alarming amount of snacks, Lily Evans was chatting animatedly with you, the token Hufflepuff in the crowd. Your easygoing friendship with Lily had opened doors you’d never anticipated, including one straight into the rowdy, reckless world of the Gryffindors.

You couldn’t help but smile as you glanced around, feeling a familiar, comfortable warmth. James was being his usual self, arm slung around Lily’s shoulders as he tried and failed to impress her with exaggerated retellings of his quidditch heroics. Sirius was close by, grinning and tossing popcorn into Peter’s mouth like it was some kind of game, while Remus sat on the sofa next to you, watching them with a faintly amused smile, occasionally chuckling at your comments and sipping a warm mug of Butterbeer. You were surrounded by friends, wrapped in warmth and cheer, and yet there was something gnawing at the edge of your mind— a sense that tonight wasn’t going to stay peaceful for long.

In the back of your head, you could practically hear the gears of fate turning. After all, a win this close against Slytherin? They wouldn’t let a game this hard fought go without consequence.

And that’s when it happened. The Gryffindor portrait door burst open, the fat lady yelling obscenities as Barty Crouch Jr. strolled in, looking like he had every right to be there. With his classic lopsided grin, he paused at the threshold, one brow arched as he scanned the room with a gaze sharp enough to unsettle even the most stalwart lion. Trailing behind him were a small group of his Slytherin friends, each wearing expressions that ranged from smug to wary as they took in the Gryffindor revelry.

A hush fell over the crowd for a heartbeat. Then, true to Gryffindor form, James leaned toward Sirius with a snort, whispering just loud enough for you to hear, “Since when does Crouch drop by without hexing someone first?”

Sirius grinned, nudging him back. “Just give it a minute.”

Barty, meanwhile, held up his hands, that smirk never leaving his face. “Evening, Gryffindors!” He announced, voice effortlessly cutting through the chatter. “Thought I’d drop by to congratulate you lot on your narrow— and I mean narrow— victory today.”

A few students raised their Butterbeers, chuckling, though Lily rolled her eyes, muttering, “Oh, this should be good…”

He walked right up to her, bowing with an exaggerated flourish. “Lily Evans! Captain of this unruly pride of lions.” His grin widened and his eyes flitted around the group. “A spectacular game, truly. It’s Gryffindors like you who make these matches worth every bit of trouble”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s not all you’re here for,” Lily said, unimpressed but unable to hide her faint smile. Barty’s charm had an annoying way of creeping up on even the most suspicious of people.

You were trying not to laugh when he caught sight of you, and his expression shifted from playful to intrigued, his eyes narrowing just a bit as they took you in. Then, in one smooth motion, he turned from Lily and closed the space between you with a look of casual interest, leaning in just close enough to spark a thrill of excitement in your stomach.

“And who might you be, tucked away here among all these lions?” He asked, eyes gleaming.

“Y/N,” you replied, fighting to keep your tone neutral. “I’m here with Lily.”

”Y/N,” he repeated slowly, as if savoring it. “The one and only Hufflepuff in a den of Gryffindors. Fascinating. Tell me, darling, how does one of your gentle disposition find themselves here, surrounded by all this… ferocity?”

”Just lucky, I suppose,” you quipped, surprised at how easily the words came.

He let out a low chuckle, glancing at the marauders with an amused smirk before looking back at you. “You’re certainly braver than I’d have guessed,” he murmured, a spark of something playful in his eyes. “Though, I’d advise staying close. If I know Gryffindors, there’s bound to be some… retaliation.”

You raised a brow, feigning innocence. “Retaliation? For what?”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper that sent a chill down your spine. “Oh, nothing too sinister. Just a little fog to set the mood.”

Before you could question him further, a loud pop echoed through the common room, and in an instant the space was filled with thick, swirling green mist, tinted in unmistakeable colors. There were shrieks and laughter as green fireworks began going off, Gryffindors stumbling blindly, coughing and waving their hands in front of their faces. Even the maraduers were caught off guard, fumbling around in the chaos, yelling and laughing as they tried to locate each other.

In the confusion, you felt a hand slip around yours, warm and steady. You didn’t need to see his face to know it was Barty. With a grin you couldn’t see but could practically feel, he pulled you through the haze and out into the hallway, leaving the chaos behind you.

Once outside, he turned to you, grinning as he gave a mock bow. “My lady, saved from the treacherous fog by none other than yours truly.”

You laughed, catching your breath, swatting at the green powder bound to stain your sweater. “Saved? You started that!”

”Perhaps,” he said, looking infuriatingly pleased with himself, “But you can’t deny I got you out in one piece, can you?”

”I suppose I can’t,” you admitted, unable to stop smiling. “Though, I have to admit, that was… well-executed.”

”I’m a man of many talents, what can I say?” He shrugged, as if leading a stealth operation into the Gryffindor common room was just another day for him. Then, his tone softened, though the mischievous light never left his eyes. “But tell me, Y/N… what are you doing here?”

You crossed your arms, pretending to scrutinize him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to chat me up, Crouch.”

”Trying?” He raised an eyebrow, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me. Here I thought I was doing a splendid job.”

You laughed, feeling a blush creep up at his confidence. “Maybe you are, just a little.”

”Only a little?” He asked, feigning disappointment. But he was smiling, that lopsided grin that could probably melt ice if it tried. “Well, that’s a start.”

He took a step closer, eyes flickering over you with a hint of genuine curiosity. “It’s not every day I meet someone who can handle a little chaos with such grace. Most would’ve hexed me by now.”

”Maybe I have a soft spot for chaos,” you teased, feeling bolder than usual.

“Oh, dangerous,” he murmured, eyes lighting up. “And here I thought Hufflepuff were all sweetness and sunshine.”

”Well, maybe we are,” you replied, unable to hold back a smile. “But we’re also more than people think.”

At that, he let out a laugh, warm and rich. “I’ll have to remember that.” Then, offering his arm with a wink, he leaned closer. “So, what do you say, darling? Feel like risking another adventure tonight?”

You glanced back toward the common room, where the Gryffindors were slowly recovering from the smoke bomb. The thought of slipping away into a night of spontaneity with Barty felt like a much better way to spend the rest of your evening.

Grinning, you looped your arm through his. “Alright, Crouch. Show me what you’ve got.”

With that, he led you down the hallway, the two of you walking in step as the night stretched out before you, filled with possibility, laughter, and just the right amount of trouble.

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londonfog-chan · 12 days ago

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Emperor Caracalla x Fem!Reader: Hermâs

A/N: The little lad dances once again.

I got this idea from listening to the soundtrack for Spirit. I’m a fucking horse girl at heart.

I also wanted to write about the true “quirky girl” experience. The majority of the time, the quirky girl isn’t beloved by all. In fact, many find her quite annoying.

I wanted to write about a sheltered, immature girl whose main character syndrome fucks her over when she finds someone that can match her delulu. I wanted to write a story where the reader is genuinely as stupid and naive, as well as childish, as the moron twins are.

Sometimes, we need a stupid reader.

Summary: Was this truly happening? Have the gods at last acknowledged your existence as the main character of your childhood narrative?

Warnings: Caracalla being a creep, period accurate misogyny, mentions of marrying off daughters to old men, Geta plotting evil, slight smutty elements

Credits: massive shoutout to @writhingg and @rxqueenotd for beta reading my clown shoes writing, as well as dealing with me screaming about my Shayla.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive

You found yourself groaning awake in your bed the morning after your sojourn in the stables.

Despite the consistent treatments of echinacea salve and rendered animal fat, the large bruise on your thigh still stung and bled through the linens— your father’s new war stallion was not one to be trifled with. Whereas you had intended to capture the hearts of the handsome stable hands by taming the horse, your poor planning and recklessness had almost killed you.

The stallion had been a gift— war spoil— from a distant land far to the east. The animal was a beautiful golden buckskin with singed brown legs and dark mane; for a moment, you mistook him for one of the golden horses that pulled Sol’s chariot across the sky. One could imagine the distinct markings as telling a story of his divine origin.

Perhaps the fiery rays of the sun singed his legs, mane and tail, and maybe the light bleached his hide— just as it tended to wash out the dyed colors of forgotten laundry hanging on a line.

He was beautiful.

So different from the broken ones you had been able to ride bareback as a small child, you naively thought all this poor creature needed to be tamed was a tender hand. Someone who understood his divine origin, and respected him for it. Only heroes in your childhood fairytales could tame such a beast, and you fancied yourself to be of their rank.

Unfortunately, your status as a chosen one was called into question. The animal was still half possessed by the wilds, and the scent of the working mares around him drove him into a lovesick madness. You jumped without thinking onto his back, and the animal had tried everything in his power to throw you. Both of you went down when he reared, and landed on your sides when the horse lost footing in the arena.

Instead of a potential stable hand suitor rushing to your side to help, your father corralled the stallion, and it was Mother Lucilla who appeared with her maid Leta when she heard your cries of agony. Leta scolded you with a clicking of her tongue as she hauled you up, and your mother’s deep contralto barked out as she gave you a verbal lashing.

“What were you thinking?! Moronic child! Preposterous piss-ant! Behaving as though I’ve never taught you sense! You could have broken your neck, you could have been killed! Foolishness!”

While you were carted back to the house in a lectus, you could hear the young stable hands laughing at your idiocy. Doubled over, they slapped at their bare knees and mimicked your cries and moans of pain in high pitched voices. Baiting, ugly, almost sexual sounding cries, they laughed and hooted until chastised back into their duties by your father’s hard gaze.

The old stable master had yet again approached your father, begging Acacius to do something about these repeated infractions.

“General! With all due respect, your daughter is a nuisance, a menace to my animals and to society! The horse may be ruined because of her stupidity.”

“She is only a child…”

“Does she not count nineteen years, General?! She is more than old enough to be wed, certainly old enough to know better. Perhaps it would do her some good to marry a man of advanced age and wisdom, surely he would straighten out her insolence with a sound beating!”

Even though the war horses were your favorite creatures in all the land, never again would you enter your father’s stables. Far too much embarrassment had cowed you, and you feared that if you made just one more misstep with his animals, that this time your father really would punish you rather than make excuses. Acacius had been cross this time, inflexible with your punishment. Under threat of a good thrashing by your mother, you were not to leave the domus, nor were you allowed to breach even the threshold of the atrium for any excuse. Never in your life had you seen your father so angry…

For a moment you were afraid. Afraid that this time, he would listen to the advice of those he trusted, and ship you off to some shriveled old man who would break your spirit.

You stayed put in your bed as your mother and her maid bathed your wounds and stood by as you recovered. When you began to grow restless, your impotent begging for mercy from hateful Mother Lucilla earned you a few moments alone in the hortus.

You loved the hortus. It was a grand design of your late mother’s creation, consisting entirely of things which were either medicinal or able to be used in various dishes. This time of the year it would be awash with a rainbow of perfumed shrubbery; the marigolds and roses would be in bloom with the purple lavender, interspersed liberally with chamomile and pansy, and you could preoccupy yourself with endlessly plucking blossoms to savor the taste. The peppery marigolds and aromatic rose petals were the taste of summer, a comfort whenever you were distressed.

This task could be accomplished alone, leaving you to ruminate on your embarrassment. Settling against a marble bench near the laurel tree, you lay reclined, with legs splayed on either side of the seat as you chewed the petals on a marigold blossom.

There was no one to stop you. Lucilla’s impatience and eye for meticulous detail were soon distracted by matters of the home. With strict instruction to stay put until she came to fetch you, she departed to attend her responsibilities among the servants in preparation for Acacius’s departure. There was food to be purchased and stored beforehand, monetary affairs to settle, as well as a thousand different things to consider for the duration of the General’s campaign. Certainly no time to devote fully to a rambunctious youth who paced the length of the gardens, limping the entire way.

You could hardly imagine it. In a week’s time, your father would be gone for nearly half a year…

The thought was almost frightening and would have put you in your sickbed, had not you already gone to great lengths to harden your heart. This was nothing at all new. Acacius had left often before when you were young, hence why he’d married Lucilla. The marriage was one of mutual benefit: you would have someone to care for you besides your late mother’s selected wet nurse, and Lucilla would have a child of her own to love and raise, a comfor to her heart for the one she’d lost.

You loved Lucilla. But the thought of losing your father, your last biological connection, and being left alone in the world still frightened you. There was always a chance that this would be the one time Acacius wouldn’t come back— and you wished that the emperors would stop sending your father away.

When Acacius left the domus, the mood of the home became sullen. Prayer was ceaselessly carried out in the lararium. Tithes, incense, and blood libations offered to the gods were overseen by your mother, and she could be gone for hours at a time at temple while you stayed behind in your cubiculum.

When at last you tired of eating flowers, you began carelessly scattering blood red rose petals into your mother’s font filled with carp while asking questions of Venus. You were imagining her responses, looking for her answers taking shape in the patterns the petals made in the water, when you heard mad giggling from behind a pillar towards the domus’ portico.

Whipping around, you looked for the source, eyes widening at the unfamiliar sound.

The giggle increased, and you could see wine colored silken damask dart behind a marble column.

What in the name of the gods was that?!

Nymph? Genius loci? One of the marble gods from the lararium— a statuette— come to life to play with you? You weren’t sure, but your heart was racing, breathing staccato as you crept closer to find out.

The scraping of leather sandals against marble could be heard when you approached. Heavy footed and a little clumsy: the perpetrator moved opposite you. You veered to the left, he to the right.

You saw a flash of hair the color of sunset. As well as the smallest glimpse of blue-gray eyes.

Grinning at the game, you decided to go for a feint. The two of you circled the pillar for a time, the high pitched giggling increasing. The giggle drowned out the sound your footsteps made when you doubled back around the pillar, laying hands on the shoulders of the intruder.

“Caught you!” You sing-songed.

He screeched, his ringed hands covering his face, and you both toppled out of the portico into the grass.

“I caught you!” You cried out again, as you leaned down to pull his hands away from his flushed face.

“You did not! Liar! I was hunting you for sport.” Exclaimed the intruder.

“You aren’t supposed to giggle when chasing your quarry.” You smiled, finally yanking his wrists apart and holding them.

“Liar! You lie! No you didn’t!”

You loved the way the man’s face turned rose pink across pock marked cheeks, his aquiline nose scrunching in anger.

“The laughter was a tactoc… um… A tac… it was an idea of my own design to catch you unawares!”

“Fool!” You smiled, keeping his wrists in a secured hold.

Quickly you rolled off of the interloper when he attempted to knee you between your legs, not knowing who he was or what he was doing snooping in the hortus. He must have been some sort of benevolent spirit sent by the gods. Perhaps even one in disguise, for he was certainly dressed in such opulent finery. Wine colored damask silk with golden zardozi embroidery made his toga picta, with gems of all size and color sewn into the fabric. They caught the sunlight, and the pinpricks of color reflected against your skin.

“You look as if the gods laid your gold and jewels across your neck themselves.” You whistled.

The intruder’s movements were feminine, almost demure. So unlike the more burly movements of generals, or the confident strides of the stable hands. As he sat cross legged, the sound made by the cuffs at his wrists clattering against the gems was captivating. Golden discs the size of libum hung from his ears and chimed with his movements as well.

“You dress like a nymph.” He murmured.

Pert, pink lips parted to allow his tongue to lick across, his smile revealing a single shimmering gold incisor. Surely he must be something otherworldly… you’d never seen someone with a golden tooth before.

“Tell me, nymph, have I stumbled into your secret grove?” He asked.

“No.” You were tickled at the insinuation, “I am no nymph. This is my father’s garden.”

“Your father? That’s not so, this is General Acacius’s garden!”

“General Acacius is my father.”

The intruder shook his head in vehement denial.

“Liar! Lady Lucilla counts forty nine years, and I would have known if she had birthed a child!”

“She is not my blood mother. I counted only three years when my father married her.” You responded, flicking off a half chewed petal from your chin.

Although you knew stories of wicked stepmothers, Lucilla had managed to break the molded stereotype. The first time your father left you alone with her, you bawled like an infant. The good lady had not punished you for your insolence, instead she swept you into her arms and showered your forehead with a thousand kisses.

She was a doting mother, your true mother, the one not of womb but of the heart; who held you and cared for you even when you were insolent.

“And your mother allows you to romp wild in your father’s garden?! To dress like a brothel whore, entertaining strange men?”

The stranger let forth a high pitched giggle, one that made you laugh with him. It was easy to feel inadequate, particularly in the face of such opulence and finery as he wore. The privacy of the garden allowed for leniency in your dress. You had wandered out of your cubiculum in a shrunken, thin, faded green stola that gave a clear view of your bandaged thigh and leg. A mismatched pale pink palla was slung carelessly around your shoulders, and you had long since abandoned your worn out calfskin sandals somewhere in the shrubbery.

“No! I dress like this because I should do as I wish in my own domus. And besides, what would a strange man be doing in my father’s garden to begin with?” You asked, “We were not told of visitors coming.”

“Not all visitors have to announce themselves.” He said haughtily, “Certainly not one as important as myself!”

A fist pounded against his chest in an intimidating boom, the sound reminiscent of a drum.

“Important?” You asked, cocking your head to the side, “Are you a messenger of some sort?”

Your nursemaid and her chatterbox daughter often told you stories of such divine messengers. Half asleep with daydreaming, you would sit at your window as your nurse embroidered crisp linens with geometric patterns, telling stories about Mercury— Hermâs she called him, in the language of the Hellenes— and his wily ways of bestowing divine fortunes and boons upon unsuspecting persons.

“Perhaps I am— a god’s messenger— in my divine disguise…!” exclaimed your stranger.

Your eyes were sparkling. Innocent and sweet.

“Truly?” You asked, crawling to him on all fours. Blissfully unaware of the sensuality in such a movement.

“Indeed. I am a bearer, a messenger, sent by Jupiter himself.” He said, his eyes trained lower on your body, “And I come bearing a secret, strictly for the young flower that hides in her father’s garden.”

“What message have you come to give me?” You asked.

“This divine message is for your ear alone.” He said, his voice lowering to a conspirator’s whisper, “Keep it secret, keep it safe. The gods have deemed you worthy of a special gift, but should you spoil the secret, they will take it away and rain down lighting from the west upon your house!”

“How wonderful!” You exclaimed, your excitement masking the fear of the stranger’s thinly veiled curse, “I’ve never had a message of my very own before!”

“Well then, prepare to be blessed, sweet one. For this message is for your ears alone… Come to my knee, let me whisper it to you.”

You sat upon his lap as he beckoned, nodding enthusiastically and sighing, holding both hands to your cheeks. The stranger leaned closer, cupping his hands over your ear as his lips grazed the shell.

“The gods have great plans for you.” He breathed.

A gasp of delight escaped you, enjoying the fact that your mystery messenger was so close. Whispering sweetness into your ear.

“The gods have told me you are to be given everything your heart desires, my beautiful nymph.” He said, “You will be the envy of all: walking marbled halls while draped in damask silks, vibrant jewels, and gossamer. Your name whispered in reverent prayer upon the tongue of the thousands who will see you in the imperator’s box at the colosseum-…”

“How would this be possible?” You interrupted softly, “I’ve never been outside of these walls, let alone in the palace.”

“You dare to question your divine messenger?! Do not underestimate the might of the gods, nymph. They can make anything so.”

He held your chin in his hand, the softness of his fingertips contrasting the tight grip he maintained, as if expecting you to try and get away.

“They can elevate you to a princess— no! To an empress, if they so desire. The gods wish to use you as their instrument, and they desire to give you everything you could ever want. Money, luxury, power, wine, sexual pleasure…”

“And… and how soon would this happen?” You asked softly.

“Very soon, my sweet one. Your time will come on the first day of the month of Juno, matter of fact.”

It felt so impossibly far away. Too far to even consider. But the fact that such an exciting blessing was to be bestowed during the month of weddings eluded you.

You bounced in excitement on his lap, his hands immediately reaching out to hold your hips steady. Hissing at the pain as he pressed your bruise, you attempted to re-adjust yourself when you felt something press against your inner thigh.

“What in the name of the gods is that?! It… it feels as though you’ve a dagger strapped to your leg.” You said, grinding your thigh against the protrusion.

The messenger froze, and his cheeks turned crimson. A large, impish grin spread from ear to ear, catlike, as if he was preparing to steal a morsel.

“Undo the belt at my tunic, and find out what it may be.” He said, breathless, a perverse look in his eye.

With an impatient huff, you almost rent the damask fabric of his robes in two, demanding that your messenger help you…

But the calling of your mother interrupted the overwhelming need to see what he had strapped to his leg.

“Oh…!” You sighed, a puff of breath escaping past your lips, “I have to go. I’m sorry, but thank you! Thank you for bringing me this message! Tell the gods I will accept this blessing and that I am most thankful to them, and to the messenger who told this to me!”

Before the messenger could protest, you quickly kissed both of his cheeks, scrambling to your feet as you ran off towards the house. As you approached your mother, running breathlessly up to her, you noticed something odd. It appeared as though her heart was racing, almost as if Lucilla was agitated

“What is it, mother?” You asked, out of breath.

Servants were darting every which way, making preparations to feed their guests and make the house presentable. Leta— your mother’s servant— was ordering the others to set the domus to rights, and you were shocked when Lucilla glowered at your unkempt visage.

“What have you been doing?!” Lucilla exclaimed, brushing leaves and petals off your stola, “I allowed you to take a walk, not roll in the shrubbery— is this a stain?!”

“What is this fuss mother…?” You attempted, but your words were stopped by Leta turning your head to look at you.

“My lady, shall I clean your daughter and dress her in the damask?” Asked the handmaiden.

“Yes, quickly! Make sure she is presentable.”

“What’s going on?!” You squeaked, both women taking you by an arm and leading you away like a prisoner to your cubiculum.

“We have been… graced, by the presence of the twin imperators—…”

“THE EMPERORS?!”

“Hush! Yes, the imperators, my darling. You will not speak out of turn again. You will smile and say little more than a polite greeting, after which we shall keep you in your cubiculum, and pray to the gods that you are spared from the lechery of men…”

Lucilla gave you no room to fret, nor to protest. She instead lead you away, to dress you in her armor of modest silk layers and a thick palla.

All the while, you could not stop thinking of the messenger’s promises.

Luxury…

Wine…

Sexual pleasure…

Unannounced guests and the multitude of problems they brought with them hardly made an impression upon your mind, not when there were such wonderful boons coming your way. All divinely ordained, draped like a zardozi embroidered sheet over the hidden evils of the machinations at hand.

In your ignorance, you believed in the lies of the powerful. Blindly trusting in your place as the chosen of the gods, and feeling the least bit better than at last, your worthiness was recognized.

“Caracalla, what in the name of the gods are you doing…?”

The stern tone of his brother, Geta, interrupted his moment of thoughtfulness as Caracalla watched his nymph run back to the house. His brother was scheming, his giggling increasing to a fever pitch, and Geta raised an eyebrow as Caracalla pointed to the home.

“Enjoying the touch and warmth of a beautiful nymph.” Caracalla beamed.

“… a nymph…” Geta deadpanned.

“Indeed. Simple and pure, with a supple breast-…”

“There are no nymphs in a general’s garden.”

“There are!” Caracalla argued.

“You are mistaken. For I only saw a pauper run from you. What have I told you of infecting the inferiors of other men’s houses? You will deplete Rome of slaves with your appetites.” Geta groused.

“This one was no slave! She is Lucilla’s daughter.” Caracalla snapped.

“The general and Lucilla have no daughters.” Geta said.

“Oh but they do, brother! Acacius hides this charming rose in his garden, away from the eyes of men.”

“Is not Lucilla past the age of childbearing?”

“His seed must have overcome that obstacle.” Cackled Caracalla, “For he has quite the lovely young spawn. Very innocent, and eager to believe every word from my lips.”

“What schemes do you invent in that empty head of yours…?” Geta asked, although he knew the answer already. He could see Caracalla’s maddened mind already concocting the most convoluted, outrageous ideas; the grey blue of his iris overtaken by dilating black pupils.

“Do not tell me…” Geta grinned wickedly.

“You know me so well.” Caracalla smiled, “It is a simple thing, really. Turning nymphs into empresses…”

Geta laughed out loud at his brother’s plotting.

“And how much would you ask for her?”

“Two million denarii!”

“Charity, brother, charity...” Geta laughed, “Acacius is a general after all, not a nobleman. Keep your dowry request under one hundred thousand denarii, or you shall never have her.”

“Only one hundred thousand?!”

“Yes, brother. To be paid in coin, land, or flesh, in the customary three years time-… Well… No, no. We may extend the dowry installments to five. After all, we are sending him away to fight your campaign in Numidia. He will need some time. You’ll want to wed her and bed her before he leaves as well.”

“I would have preferred the two million…” pouted Caracalla.

“Whatever for? The money is of little consequence. You would only piss away two million on whores, and her father would sooner give her away to someone else. This conquest will be far more simple, exercise your power and will it so. I shall give my blessing as the arrangement is not without benefits.”

When Caracalla’s feverish mind could not connect the dots, Geta prompted him.

“She is Lucilla’s legitimate heir. Marry her daughter, and you secure not only the title, but a closer position to the good lady herself… Slake your thirst for flesh with both this nubile creature’s affections, and with the attentions of her comely mother as well.”

#gladiator ii #emperor caracalla #emperor geta #emperor Caracalla x reader #gladiator 2 #gladiator movie #general acacius #lucilla

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nicksbestie · 5 months ago

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tit obsessed chris hcs?

c.s. - tit obsessed(headcanons)

! nsfw content. 16+. i am not responsible for the media you choose to consume on the internet !

~ you can't tell me that your tits aren't chris' favorite parts of you

~ "tits or ass" his answer is obvious

~ his hands are always somewhere near your chest

~ he falls asleep some nights with his head on one and his hand on the other

~ sometimes he'll just lay with his hands under your shirt

~ this man has an oral fixation... he's definitely had his mouth on them when he's fallen asleep before

~ he's obsessed with marking them up

~ every photo you send to him, no matter how much is showing, has him even more obsessed than before

~ he definitely has a liked post/tweet/tiktok from a girl with that quote "why wear a bra when my boyfriend has hands"

taglist <3

@bratzforchris @rafecameronsbitch @jessie-essie @chrislover444 @alastor-konig-kakashi-shoutasimp @mattsfavbigtitties @conspiracy-ash @estapa94 @stqrgirlies-blog @blahbel668 @gwennybenny @sweetsturniolopooks @ifwdominicfike @wiidfi0wer33 @mattsturnswife @dykes4chris @new2024cats4life @shadowthesim @yourenogoodforme @themattgirli @chrisspepsican

divider credit @/strangergraphics-archive

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cupofjoekeery · 8 months ago

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Stranger Things fic recommendations

Main fic rec masterlist

⤜♡→Steve Harrington: ⤜♡→Robin Buckley:

⤜♡→Billy Hargrove:

Divider Credits: @strangergraphics-archive @strangergraphics

#stranger things #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #billy hargrove #robin buckley #stranger things fic #fic rec #billy hargove x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x reader #billy hargove imagine #dacre montgomery #maya hawke

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mello0cat · 7 months ago

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Himmel x Herbalist elf reader

➳ Afab reader A little angst, Little fluff, Himmel is a little ooc, feminine pronouns (sorry!), Not proofread! Timeline: shortly after defeating the demon king Maybe a little inaccurate as I'm only on the beginning of the 6th episode

➳ *little A/N*

Reader is a elf who is proficient in identifying plants and had learnt some magic to enhance or modify plant growth.

Sorry if the grammer or writing is bad, I'm a little new to fanfic writing,it may feel a little rushed and short, feel free to give me advice, Enjoy <3

Credits to @strangergraphics-archive for the line divider and @mochikofi for the idea to write a fic

A silent Meadow, filled with colorful flowers, the ruins of some ancient fort sits in the center lost to time... The rest of the party had run off somewhere....

The elf was sitting on a piece of fallen rubble, examining a small blue flower and various other plants she picked up on the way

Himmel walked up to the elf, taking a deep breath. After much time debating with himself he had made up his mind, he coughed to get her attention. she was caught off guard and stood up turning to him

"Hm? Is something wrong, Himmel?"

"Nothing... I wanted to give you something"

He placed a flower crown on her head. She tilted her head in confusion, letting out a small "Huh?", She looked at the flower crown on her head and smiled, reaching out her hand to his hair with the blue flower...

As soon as the flower came in contact with his hair, small vines grew from it, intertwined with eachother and more of the flower sprouted all tangled into a small flower crown

He was quite suprised and in awe, the flower looked like blue-moon weed, his favourite flower which used to grow in his hometown, before he could reply, she spoke with a soft smile

"Thank you, for the flowers, they're quite beautiful"

"your welcome, afterall the flowers I pick are the most beautiful"

His voice was smug, but inside he was a mess, he wanted to confess all that he felt for her through the years but he still hesitated, he could feel his face turn hot everytime he looked into her eyes....She noticed something was wrong with him, she reached up to touch his forehead to check for a fever

"Are you feeling okay? your forehead is warm..."

"I-I'm fine!.... really...."

He grew red at the contact, she tilted her head in concern, removing her hand

"Are you sure?... Did you touch any poisonous plants?"

"Wha- No!! I'm fine... look I want to confess something...."

He hesitated before looking at her, holding eye contact, she looked concerned about him

"You do know you can tell me anything... "

He sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder

"Look,..... I... I may have come to develop feelings for you... I love you, okay? For a few years now, More than a friend, a party member, Anything!"

She froze as if all time had stopped, her face faltered, no response...

"Hey!... Please just give me a answer, I'll take it no matter what..."

his tone was desperate, almost pleading her just for a single word, his heart filled with anticipation

She simply looked at the ground and took a deep breath

"....Himmel... you know how this will go right?.... "

"I don't understand... What do you mean?..."

He was confused, looking at her for an explanation, he couldn't help but feel a sense of.... Dread

"Himmel... you're a human, I'm a elf... Time passes way differently for the both of us... I live for thousands of decades if not centuries, while you get a couple more decades, and I'm on the constant move, you wouldn't be able to keep up with me as you grow old while I still stay the same...."

He felt a pang of hurt in his chest as you say those words. he had never thought about that before, the fact that elves lived so much longer than humans, and that he had such a short life in comparison...

"....if we get together... It's going to be full of hardships...."

He listened to her words, he was determined...he knew of the hardships that would come with being in a relationship with you, but he couldn't help but to be selfish... Afterall he loved her, truly

"But... I know, I know it's going to be tough... but I dont care... l dont care about the hardship..

He took a step closer to her

I just... I just want to be with you, no matter what..."

He stepped forward holding her hand, looking at her in the eye, his tone sincere

"...even though it's going to be quite a hard time?"

"I dont care how hard it's going to be...I would go through any hardship, just to be with you..."

He nodded his head, his determination evident in his eyes. he spoke firmly and surely

She considered it for a moment

"If you are truly ready for it... I'm willing to give this a try.... I'll love you as much as it hurts me to watch you wither away with time...."

"It doesn't matter... as long as I get to spend whatever time I have left with you… I'll live happily knowing you love me...."

he could hear the sorrow in your voice, and his heart ached at the thought of the time that you would have to live without him

She looked up at him with a smile

"It may be a small time for me, to you it's a life time..."

He held her hand against his chest

"every moment I spend with you, no matter how short it is, it’s worth everything to me…"

#sousou no frieren #frieren: beyond journey's end #frieren anime #himmel x reader #himmel #frieren #Sorry kinda short and looks rushed

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teenage-queen · 9 months ago

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Welcome to my Tumblr <3

Hi my name is Ashley, I'm 22, currently single and a huge Bisexual!

My blog has recently become 18+ as I'm older now and reblogging/posting not so sfw things!

Plz DNI if you are a minor, racist, homophobic, fat phobic, misogynistic or a straight up asshole tbh...the list could go on but I'll save the trouble.

You will be blocked if you say some weird or creepy shit!!

Please treat me with some respect & like a human when you are in my asks or dms...I am not actually horny 24/7 bc like I have a life & I work a full time job quit asking if i wanna see your d 😂 also don't message me just to talk for 2 seconds and be done like that's lame tbh and if we actually hit it off I'll give you my snap.

I love all things horror/spooky/fall/halloween!

I listen to music 24/7 and there's not much I won't listen to I love tons of different artists and types of music and totally down for suggestions 💜

(My username btw is a 5sos thing iykyk & it's special to me 🥺)

I appreciate all the love when i post ✨️things✨️...it makes me more confident!...with that being said you are welcome to reblog anything (but once again) don't say anything weird or mean bc I will not tolerate it!

My shitpost blog where I mainly reblog memes & stuff that makes me chuckle is: @swee-ten-er so drop in over there for a possible laugh.

Welp idk what else to say but I love you guys!

(Credit to: strangergraphics-archive for the little moth dividers <3)

(Tags I use on my selfies below 😁)

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bloodlinemadness · 2 months ago

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Credits: WWE for the pic & @tsunami-of-tears & @strangergraphics-archive for the amazing dividers!

youtube

Part 3 is out!

A/N: I couldn't find this song on Spotify 😭 & I thought this would be the perfect theme for this chapter. So I had to use a YouTube video.

Part 1 (if you haven't read it)

Pairings: Roman Reigns (Bf) x Fem! Reader

Tama Tonga (Ex) x Fem! Reader

Summary: Roman gets occupied when fans meet him & The Bloodline. However, Tama takes that as an opportunity to speak with you alone.

Warnings ⚠️: 18+ Fluff, angst, swearing, stress ofc, emotional wreckage, dirty talk, mentions of sex, arguing, violence, past relationship, alcohol consumption & cheating mentioned. Non-consensual kissing. Past beef. The twins have no filter & Roman punishes them for it 😭 Tama is the villain in this, sorry Tama girlies. Not proofread!

Heads Up ‼️ This needed to be separate : Yandere Tama, he gets obsessive, delusional, aggressive & pushy. ( No r*pe it's wrong & I will never write that. Also respect wrestlers to not write that about them. It was tough to write Tama like this, cause we know he's bbygirl IRL).

WC: 3k

Tag list: @wishyouloveme @jstarr86 @reignsboy19 @yana3sworld @rose-bliss

(if anyone else wants to be on the tag list for the next upcoming chapters let me know!).

Of course this is written for fictional purposes only & is based on their characters, it does not depict who they are in real life. Respect to them & their families.

Enjoy ☝🏽

"So Uce, I'm thinking for our next merch, 'cause they the twos & we the ones?" Jimmy suggested to Roman. Roman nodded his head in agreement "I'm interested." "Who's they?" asked Solo furrowing his brows. Jimmy chuckled. "I hate you" scoffed Solo.

"What are we on about?" asked Jey taking a seat after returning from the restroom. "Merch ideas, thinking cause they the twos, and we the ones" said Jimmy, "yeet!" smiled Jey. "Which I don't approve of, so no yeet!" said Solo, Jey waved him off "our merch not yours, you don't have a say in this."

"Maybe I should get them to put yalls faces on it too!" teased Jimmy, "with an X on top" laughed Jey, high fiving his twin, only angering their little brother more. "Alright Jimmy & Jey, that's enough leave your baby brother alone" you laughed. "They're back" whispered Jacob. You looked at Roman, his expression changed from jovial to irritated seeing Tama & Loa coming back to the table, you kissed his cheek calming him down. They both sat down.

You rested your head on Roman's shoulder, and you swore at the corner of your eye you saw Tama looking at you both with a blank expression. You tried to not let it get to you. You hoped that he's probably moved on by now, and doesn't see you that way anymore, but when Roman mentioned about him looking at you, he probably hasn't. Roman rested his head on top of yours, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You were grateful that you found him. After joining WWE at the beginning of 2019, you met him when he returned in February & welcomed him back with open arms, praising him & his hard work & how much you look up to him. He was elated. You were immediately attracted to him by his warm & down to earth personality. He welcomed you to the company & wished you the best on your makeup career. He even brought the twins over to your studio to do some face paint on them for fun since they miss it like old times. Your friendship went on from there & then in 2021, that friendship grew into love & you both started dating. Like you mentioned to the 4 Fatus, it has been the best 3 years of your life, and you wouldn't trade it for the world, he is the man of your dreams. The light in your life.

"I love you RoRo" you said to the man above you. "I love you too babygirl" he smiled. "Thank you for bringing me out here & to the movies, definitely needed this break from school" you said. "Of course" he said "don't overstudy yourself, it's okay to have fun once in a while too, but also keep that focus. That hard work will pay off" You heard someone clear their throat, you looked towards Roman's side & saw Jey with his arms crossed.

"What?" you asked. "I'm sure Big Uce ain't the only one who took you out, who's idea was it? Especially The Waffle House treat" he said, Jimmy agreed with his younger twin "yeah, where's our thanks?" Roman laughed "give them their holy grail" "okay, thank you twins for taking me out too, to the movies & for organizing The Waffle House lunch. You two are the best, yeet" you praised. "Exactly!" said Jimmy. You looked over at Solo "and thank you & your Bloodline for joining us" you smiled, making Solo smile too. "Of course, missed you & wanted to see you." "We love you sis! Go get that degree!" exclaimed Jacob. "Now seeing us hopefully you're all charged up & ready to kick school's ass!" said Loa, making you nod. "Will do anything to see you happy" spoke up Tama.

Solo's smile immediately dropped, his eyes widened, he looked at Jacob & he shrugged taking another spoonful of his food. "I appreciate that Tama, thank you" you smiled, making him grin too. You felt Roman tense up, you squeezed his bicep for comfort.

"Big hug!" yelled Jimmy next to you wrapping his arms around you & resting his head on your shoulder. "Yeet!" said Jey hugging Roman on the other side. "Your twin cousins are crushing us" you said "I know" whispered Roman shaking his head. "Nice! Let's get this on camera!" said Solo taking his phone out & snapping a pic of you all. "I'll send that to you Y/N, it came out great!" he said.

"Thank you Solo, now Jimmy get off of me you're crushing my bicep!" you said trying to pry him off of you. "My skull's getting crushed" you whispered to Roman "sorry baby" he said lifting his head off of you. "It's okay, I don't mind getting crushed by you just not on my brain. I need that for school" you joked rubbing your neck.

"Here let me get that for you" said Roman massaging your neck. The pads of his fingers pressing against your neck felt so good. It's like he had healing powers. You couldn't help but let out a moan in content. "Geez, wait until y'all get home" cringed Jimmy, making you flick his forehead "ow! That's abuse!" he said rubbing his head. "Ohh Daddy that feels good" mimicked Jey in your voice. Roman forcefully pulled Jey's hood over his head forcing it down, with a smirk. "I can't see Uce!" he exclaimed fighting him with his arms. He finally let go, going back to massaging you. "Rude" scoffed Jey, "yup" responded Roman. "Look at them tag teaming on my annoying brothers, they're meant to be" smiled Solo, making Jacob nod in agreement.

Tama huffed in annoyance, "what happened?" asked Loa. He shook his head & looked somewhere else. Roman rubbing your neck reminded him of the time he did it to you after your shifts in New Japan Pro-Wrestling. Since there were times you'd be craning your neck down or up to put makeup on the wrestlers, it'd hurt. You'd come home & Tama would be the one to massage your neck hearing you groan & moan in satisfaction which made him move his lips onto your neck, leading to something more. Vice versa, you'd give him massages too after his long & brutal matches at times, he missed it all, he missed your touches.

After he was done, Roman whipped his phone out & texted the chat while you started talking to Solo.

Roman: @Jimmy @Jey What's with all the hugging & clinginess???

Jimmy: Hey! We meant that! We needed one big hug, especially you Uce! Turn that grumpy frown upside down.

Roman: @Jimmy stop trying to play therapist.

Jey: @Roman Tama got all lookie with Y/N again. Uce needed to cover her 👀

Roman: I knew it, it was all for show 😒

Jimmy: I mean a bit, but we still needed one big hug.

Roman: @Jimmy We're not the Teletubbies, we're leaving now. I've had enough of him.

Jacob: But I haven't finished!

Jey: @Jacob Damn, you eat slow.

Jimmy: @Roman Y/N needed that hug don't you think Uce? She looks much happier now!

Roman: You're right & that's all I want for her...is to be happy 🙂

Jimmy: Pretty Huuurtsss 🎶

Jey: We shine the light on whatever's worst 🎶

Roman: It's not karaoke night, stop it 🙄

Jacob: PERFECTION IS A DISEASE OF A NATION 🎶

Everyone: JACOB!

"Alright y'all, Y/N & I are gonna be heading home now. She's got stuff to do & so do I" said Roman standing up. You stood up with him wrapping your arms around his waist as he wrapped his arm protectively around your shoulder. "We need rides back home, Uce!" said Jimmy, making him roll his eyes. "You & Jey paid the bill for the meals?" "yes Uce, but you owe us" said Jimmy. "I don't owe y'all anything, you chose to be mean to Y/N so you had to pay for it yourselves" said Roman. "Should've just kept your mouth shut" said Jey to Jimmy. "Told ya he got a big ass mouth why else do you think we don't tell him shit?" said Solo, making his big brother give him a dirty look. "Aww, come on Ro. It was just harmless joke! I make worse jokes to them" you said laughing. "Yeah, and our feelings get hurt sometimes" said Jey fake crying.

Some fans noticed The Bloodline & came up to take pics with them. "Sorry babygirl, you don't mind?" asked Roman looking at you sympathetically. "Of course not! I'm glad we had some quality time spent together" you said, pecking his lips making him smile. He grinned going up to meet the fans, same with the twins. Fans also came up to the new Bloodline too getting pics & autographs.

You told Jey you're gonna head to the restroom to freshen up & you'll be back, he nodded. You made your way towards the bathrooms what you didn't notice is Tama watching you leave. He saw that Roman was occupied & so were the twins, Solo, Jacob & his brother with fans. He quietly got up & snuck his way towards the restrooms following you.

You washed your hands, touched yourself up with your hair, makeup & perfume, freshened your breath with mouthwash & left the restroom. You walked 2 steps before you saw a figure in front of you, Tama. He had his arms crossed leaning against the wall, looking at you. Tight fitted black shirt, dark washed jeans, his gold chain dangling from his neck, you froze.

"Hey Tama" you said waving awkwardly at him. "Hey Y/N, long time huh?" he said smirking at you. "Yeah, it has been" you said awkwardly smiling at him. "I'll get out of your hair, you probably need to use the restroom room right? I'll see you later" you said trying to walk past him, but he grabbed your wrist making you stop. "I don't need to use the restroom, I want to talk to you, but not here" he said. You started to shiver. You knew you should've went to the bathroom when Jey went, he would've been by your side coming out.

"That's nice Tama, but I really can't right now. Roman's probably waiting for me" you said.

"He's meeting fans right now & is caught up talking to them, we have time. Come on" he said taking your wrist & leading you out.

"Where are you taking me?" you said. He didn't respond, he lead you towards a patio outside which was on the side near the bathrooms. You tried to withdraw your hand from his,but he wouldn't budge. "I'm not going anywhere with you, let me go!" you nearly shouted. "Shhhh" he said putting his finger in front of his mouth. You felt butterflies in your stomach & disgust within you. "Listen, hear me out. It's been a while since we've last seen each other" he said playing with your fingers. You yanked your hand away from him, making him chuckle & raising his hands up in surrender. "Okay, I guess you're still upset with me" he said.

"Upset? I'm more than just upset with you Tama, you broke my heart, you cheated on me, treated me like an object. Did you really love me? Cause I don't think you ever did, I bet you wanted me for my body only" you fought. "That's a lie! I've always loved you ma chérie-" Don't you ever fucking call me that again!" you gritted through your teeth, cutting him off. "Ouch, okay, but still hear me out" he said. "What is there to hear out?" you questioned. "COULD YOU PLEASE LET ME TALK?!" he yelled. You were shaken up by his words & stopped. He saw fear within your eyes & regretted his tone.

"I'm sorry, but please listen to me. Yes, I did a horrible thing years ago when we dated & it was very low of me to do that. I never should've cheated on you & I don't know what came in my head to do that. Even the days I'd come home drunk, I know I get stressed out with work & being away from home, but drinking & begging sex from you were definitely not the ways to cope & looking back at it I'm so disgusted with my past actions. Hell, after you left I beat myself up for it so much. I was a fucking mess without you, you were the best I ever had. I loved you for who you were Y/N, your bubbly personality, your amazing makeup skills, especially the cheetah print face paint you did on me, I adore it so much when I look at those pictures & it reminds me of you, your smile every time I see you, how you were never afraid to speak your mind when you saw injustice, your style, your humbleness, the way you were like my personal cheerleader every time I had a match, the time we spent together-" "okay Tama" you interrupted him "I get it, but please get straight to the point" you said, he nodded.

"I'm sorry, I'm so very sorry for everything for making your life a living hell, for breaking your heart, giving you a hard time. I couldn't even look at myself after what I did to you. My brothers & The Bullet Club gave me an earful after what I did & I know I fucked up bad. I regret losing you & it hurts to live in a world where you hate me, I apologize so much. God, I'm so cruel, I let the best thing go" his eyes started to water up.

"Tama" you said sympathetically. "I don't know what to say..." you trailed. "Just forgive me, that's all I ask for" he pleaded. "Okay, I forgive you" you said, a small grin appeared on his teary face. "But I won't forget what you've done, you really hurt me. I had to risk my job because of this. You made it hard for me to believe in love again. You were not just a love to me but a friend whom I felt I could always confide in & vice versa & not only that you need to apologize to Roman too for the shit you said to him years ago. You can't be near me if you don't respect my man" you said. "I know & I'm so sorry, let me make it up to you. I'm a changed man now" he said. You raised your brow "huh? You mean make it up to us right? Me & Roman?" you said confused.

"No, give me one more chance, I promise you I won't let you down" he whispered taking a step towards you, making you take a step back. "I thought you said that all you wanted was to seek forgiveness? What's this now?" you questioned. "Yeah, that was to break the ice, but I want to give us another go. I'll treat you like a Queen Y/N" he stepped closer towards you. "Tama, you're getting too close" you panicked. He walked closer towards you, smirking.

"I can't get back with you, I'm dating Roman now & I'm happy with him. We're not letting each other go. You need to move on Tama, please. If I can, so can you. There are plenty of beautiful women out there who will love you. If you've changed, you'll do that & if you truly love me, you'll let me go" you said. "I don't want those women!" he snapped, making you jump. His voice softened "I want you. Why can't you see it Y/N? I miss you baby. I think about you every fucking day." "Please, stop. You need to move on! Roman's gonna be pissed if he sees us! And it's not gonna end well for you" you said creeped out.

"I don't care what Roman thinks, he's too busy with his fans to even care about you. That's your knight in shining armor?" See? I'm better. I could never abandon you like that bitch, baby" he chuckled, shaking his head. You slapped him across his cheek which echoed throughout the patio. He held his cheek, breathing heavily. "Don't you dare say another word against him, you fucking psycho!" you yelled with tears in your eyes. He looked at you through his lashes, stomped to you, pinning you against the outdoor brick wall of the restaurant, making you yelp. "The audacity you have" he chuckled darkly before turning serious, " I don't give a fuck though, it makes me want you even more."

"Get the fuck off of me, you sick freak!" you shouted attempting to push him off, but he was too strong. "You need me, you miss me, and I know you miss my touch, right my pretty little psycho?" He whispered into your ear nipping at your ear lobe. You pushed his head away. He cupped your face in his hands & crashed his lips against yours silencing your whimpers, he moaned in content finally tasting & feeling your lips after years of craving it.

TBC...

A/N: Feedback is appreciated!

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