#even if i can't have The Perfect Conditions i have to do something!!!

[alackofghosts]

UGH okay! i really have to pull myself together to do stuff like paint with gouache/oil pastels (i crave that Tangibility) and listen to an audiobook. i feel like i'm rotting in here

[here-there-were-dragons]

i have to wonder what super hardcore militant vegans think should be done about obligate carnivore animals, because in all my painfully-rapidly-approaching-30-years i've literally never actually seen anyone give a clear consistent much less halfway feasible answer on that

[foone]

I see a lot of people joking about the adhd thing of "I have a appointment/phone call at 3pm, guess I won't do anything all day!"

But no one seems to make the connection that it's a time blindness thing. One of the symptoms of ADHD is not having a good and accurate sense of time. And not doing stuff prior to an event with a hard deadline is an obvious coping mechanism for that.

Can I go to the store? It's 10am and the appointment is at 3pm. How long does going to the store take? An hour? Three hours? Five hours? I DON'T KNOW!

I get anxious trying to do things before appointments because I'm aware that I don't know how long those things take, and that if I think I do, I may be very wrong. Too often I've been like "hey I can walk to the corner store and grab a drink, that'll take like 15 minutes!" and then an hour later I get back and whoops my rice has burnt.

Plus there's also the fact that ADHD people know that motivation and focus is a two-edged sword.

Like, let's say you decide to play a video game. You've got time, you can pause/save whenever, so this should be a perfect fit to make good use of your waiting-time. So you start playing and WHOOPS you get really focused for some reason today (because people with ADHD do not get to pick when their brain decides to focus) and the next time you look at the clock it's 2:49 and you haven't showered or dressed and the appointment is 30 minutes away. Fuck. (you could have set an alarm, but now you're asking people with the forgetting-things-and-time-ignoring condition to remember it set alarms)

And with motivation, it can be almost worse. Instead of playing a game, you so something useful or creative. You clean your room or fix your plumbing or write a story or draw a picture. And suddenly it's great. Your brain is firing on all cylinders. You've got all the motivation you can ask for, and you are FLYING. the ideas are brilliant, your hands are nimble, you're getting stuff done you've been putting off for weeks or months. And then the alarm goes off. Time to go to your appointment. Fuck.

You drive there, your brain still full of ideas and plans. But by the time you get back, the motivation is gone. You may still have the ideas but you don't have the drive to write them down. You can't force yourself to do it. Your sink is still in pieces. Your room is half-cleaned, and you have to shove all the sorted clothes into one big bin just so you have somewhere to sleep. You've left things half finished again, in a cycle that has been repeating your whole fucking life. It seems sometimes that nothing ever gets finished.

So next time you don't even start. There's not time. You've been burnt too many times. Why add another half-completed project to your pile of shame?

My point is that people seem to be going "lol I can't do anything all day if I have an appointment at 3pm" like this is a quirky "oh I'm so scatterbrained!" weirdness they alone have, and not a major complication of a disabling mental illness.

(and that's not even getting into the secondary effects. If you know that having an appointment ruins your whole damn day, you're going to avoid them. Even when it's things like "going to that party" or "meeting your friends for a drink/game" or "going to a movie with that cute girl from your math class". Things you should enjoy. Things that'd help you be social. Things that make you feel human.)

[terrestrialnoob]

Harley crawled into the apartment. It was organized, but it looked like the occupant didn't have a lot of time for cleaning. She walked softly through it, taking it in. There were photos of her target and what had to be her family, but no friends or romantic partners. Some had a pair of older adults, matching traits meant bio-parents. More of the photos were of the target and a younger boy - a little brother, the highest likelihood of becoming another target if things go bad.

Harley continued forward, following the light to where her target was. She stood in the doorway, looking in.

Dr. Jasmine Fenton, Arkham Asylum's newest psychologist, just got her degree and everything. She did what most newbies do, actually thinking she could get through to the Joker. Harley didn't want to say it was impossible, but everyone who tried ended up in a new job or dead. Harley would try and make sure it was the former and not the later.

Harley watched as the redhead read over a file as she ate from a takeout box. She didn't want to scare the girl, yet. The scaring her away from Joker came later. So, she had to wait for the perfect moment to-

"I know you're there." Jasmine didn't look up from her file, but held out the last box of Chinese food in Harley's direction. "There's plenty if you want some."

"Awe, you ruined the surprise." Harley walked out of the shadows of the hallway into the girl's home office. She snatched the offered box of food and took a few bites as she jumped to sit on the desk.

"I'm hard to sneak up on." Jasmine said, closing her file and finally looking at Harley. "So, Dr. Quinzel, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this evening?"

"Oh, call me Harley!" She laughed, she wasn't called Dr. all that often any more. She tapped her chop sticks on the file Jasmine just closed. "I thought you'd like a consult on your new patient, Dr. Fenton. I've got a lot of experience with him."

"I prefer to go by Jazz." She said with a smile, "While I appreciate the offer, I'd like to see how far I can get on my own. And, sorry, but I'm pretty sure your license was revoked."

Harley nodded as she swallowed to get the noodles out of her mouth. "I get it! You're new, fresh outta school, gotta prove yourself. But Joker ain't the guy to do that with. He eats people like us for breakfast, and in all the years he's been in Arkham, no one's been able to get anywhere with him."

Jazz sighed, "I don't like to believe people are lost causes. There's always something we can do to help."

"You can't help everyone, especially when they don't want it. And it's not just a question if whether or not he can be saved or whatever." Harley set down the now empty box, Jazz pointed to another one that still had food in it, but Harley declined. "If you keep it up, he'll think you're worth his time to torment. There's no telling what he'll do when he inevitably gets himself out again."

"I'll be fine." Jazz said, but Harley had to cut her off before she said something stupid.

"It's not just you! You've got family out there he can target, your parents. Your Brother! Anyone you date will become a target! He'll do everything in his power to make your life miserable!"

Jazz chuckled. "If he wants to target my family, his funeral. My parents are - were supervillains. They've really only become less- well, hyper-focused on eradicating an entire race of being- in the past few years. And my brother - I'm pretty sure he's conditionally immortal. So that's nothing to worry about."

"If it's conditional, Joker will find a way around it." Harley said, but she had to admit, this might have been an unnecessary trip. "You sure y'ain't got nothing to worry about? What about you? How conditional is your mortality?"

Jazz smiled. Her mouth seemed too wide and with too many teeth. "Oh, I am nowhere near immortal. But..."

She stood up and the room was suddenly a black void. Toxic green eyes and mouths filled with glowing white teeth opened around them. "I doubt anyone could get close enough to test it."

The room was suddenly back to normal, but whatever that thing was was still there. Harley could see its eyes watching her with amusement from inside Jazz's oversized cardigan.

"Well, I guess this really was a wasted trip. You've clearly got it covered."

"Not entirely." Jazz said, her hand wend up to her neck to rub nervously, "Well, you see... I don't really have a lot of friends. People tend to get - uh, creeped out, you know? Or chased off by my parents or brother or whatever..."

"You wanna be friends?" Harley laughed so hard she almost fell over.

Jazz's face turned bright red and the shadow eyes looked way less amused. "Yeah, stupid question. You've clearly got your own things going on."

"No! No, no." Harley had to take several deep breaths before she could look Jazz in the face again. "I 100% wanna hang out with you!"

"Really?"

"Oh yeah." She took another deep breath, "I mean, I really should have made a support system before trying to take on the Joker back when I worked for Arkham. This" she pointed between them "can only end well."

Jazz's face turned brighter than the sun. "Oh my gosh! This is amazing! We should - I have Thursday's and weekends off - What - what kind of things should we-"

Oh man, Jazz was like an excited kid. She must have had a really lonely childhood... they can psychoanalyze each other later. "Come over for girl's night next week. I'll tell my gf and bff to expect an extra person... Does the-" she motioned to the cardigan creature "-go everywhere you go? Does it need food?"

"Oh, don't worry about Jet, they only eat who I tell them to."

Harley barked out more laughter. "You're going to fit right in!"

Now featuring a Part 2

[citrus-writing]

How do you think the Phantom Troupe members will react to the reader almost passing out while having sex with them?

// Yandere phantom troupe members react to darling nearly passing out during sex with them // 

I kept the reason darling nearly passed out vague, since the yanderes wouldn't know the reason, and because one isn't specified. ( However, my assumptions when writing these were something related to fear or nervousness, weakness or pain, or a pre-existing medical condition or some sort- so these can be read with those scenarios in mind, but doesn��t have to be. ) 

Warnings: nsfw, dub-con / non-con, sorta somnophilia, some of these are fluffy and sweet but some are a little bit dark 

---------------- 

Yanderes that are worried about you, immediately stopping what they had been doing to comfort you and make sure you’re ok. 

Chrollo, uvogin, illumi

Chrollo- 

Chrollo is so romantic and caring towards you, he always takes great care and precision in caring for you- from undressing you to preparing you for him, he’s diligent and incredibly in tune with your needs and desires. 

He kisses down your body with fervor, mouth hot and tongue insistent at all your weak spots, hands following close behind, trailing down your body as well. You’re perfect- soft and beautiful and all his his his. He’s always enamored with the sounds you make, nearly overwhelmed with the pleasure he always gives you, he always loves the face you make, face all flushed and eyes hazy with pleasure. 

That’s why it catches him so off guard when he notices the way you seem less steady; even while laying down, it’s obvious you’re growing dizzy, disoriented, face becoming slightly paler. Your hands grip at the sheets, knuckles nearly white from the force. 

“My love, are you alright?” he asks, stopping whatever he’d been doing to give his full attention to your face and your words. He can't hide the worry in his voice, nor the worried expression he wears. How could he even think to hide such things when you’re so unsteady in his arms. 

“Do you need me to stop?” he soothes- he won't mind if you do need to stop, or slow down- after all, you’re the light of his life, everything he does is for you. Besides, he’d never turn down the opportunity to dote on you and take care of you. 

Uvogin- 

Uvogin is aware he can be overwhelming- from the overzealous roughness of his touch to the sheer size of him, he knows that sex with you can be overwhelming for you, and, if he’s not careful, even painful. That’s why he’s always so careful with you, doing his best to go slow and take good care of you- you, his darling. Because he adores you, and he needs you to enjoy the things he does to you. He needs to see your mouth fall open in a moan so loud it’s nearly a scream, he needs to hear the way your scream out his name. 

When you start to become overwhelmed, body growing shaky and fingers and thighs trembling, he eases up immediately, slowly coming to a stop. Had he gotten too caught up in the moment? Had he gotten a little rough with you? He’s gotten used to watching for signs of discomfort in you, always a little too aware of the way you struggle to take him, so he notices immediately when you start to feel out of it. 

“Hey, you alright?” he asks you. “Was that too much?” he knows he caught your discomfort before it could get bad, with you already looking like you're doing a little better. You’ve stopped trembling so much, face growing a little less flushed, eyes returning from the edge of teariness. He runs a comforting hand through your hair, down your back, pulling you close to him. “I’ve got you, you’re alright.” 

Illumi- 

Of course illumi notices when you start to act distant, nothing ever gets past those wide eyes, especially not when they’re so focused on you- on your face and your body and those sounds you make that make him so hot he can hardly stand it. The first thing he notices is your sounds, growing less so pleasured and more so desperate in a way that almost sounds like pain, and is definitely discomfort. 

“Darling?” he asks, not yet letting up on the motion of his movements, “is it too much?” it’s hard for him to tell how you’re feeling at any given moment- after all, he’s mastered being able to push through any discomfort, but you haven't, you’re so sweet and gentle compared to him, and he needs to remind himself of that often to avoid pushing you too far. 

You nod weakly, a little embarrassed, and a little nervous to disappoint him. He stops his movements instantly, as if you had stopped him yourself. His eyes watch you as you take a moment you steady yourself, obviously trying to gather the strength and composure to explain yourself. And he’d let you explain, but not right now. 

“Don't speak, let me get you something to drink, and help you get cleaned up.” he knows by now you wont fight him on this, when he made up his mind about something it was made. He hates the thought of you in pain, especially from him. Whatever he did to overwhelm you, he’ll make it right. 

-----

Yanderes that don’t stop, either too caught up in the moment or simply uncaring if you do pass out- after all, they’ll take care of you. 

Feitan, phinks, nobunaga, shalnark 

Feitan- 

You feel too good- wrapped around him like a vice, squeezing so tight. It makes him almost dizzy himself, so when he watches your eyes grow hazy and your body starts to tremble, he thinks very little of it. Maybe even thinks it’s good, afterall, he loves knowing he has an effect on you. 

It takes him a minute to realize how unsteady you are, not dizzy with pleasure necessarily but more so dizzy as you grapple with the edge of consciousness. “Too much?” he asks, voice tight, as he continues to push into you. He watches you nod, shaking hands reaching out to him to steady yourself. 

He lets you tangle your arms around his shoulders, lets you seek out the sensations you need to keep you grounded, but he doesn't stop. He slows down, so slow he’s nearly stopped, but feitan continues to roll his hips into you in a desperate attempt to not let this end. Even just this is more that enough- benign buried to the hilt inside you is perfect, how can he complain when you’re so fucked out that you can hardly stay coherent. 

“So good for me.” he whispers as he forces you to take it. The pace is slow but so so deep, and he watches your face with an intensity that doesn't help you calm down at all, but a part of you really wants to be good for him, so you fight not to struggle against him as you struggle equally hard to stay awake. 

Phinks- 

Phinks always struggles to hold back, especially with you- his beloved darling, but he’d been so sure that he’d been doing a good job at not going too rough, not fucking you as hard and fast as he wanted to- and god, he wants to. 

It catches him off guard when you look up at him with such hazy eyes, lip worried between your teeth, clearly overwhelmed and uncomfortable. Fuck, fuck. “Hey, you’re alright.” he soothes, shifting his weight to free a hand to push your hair away from your face. Looking closer, he can see the telltale signs of being near losing consciousness- the sweat, the paleness, the trembling. He hates that it isn't an immediate turn off- he hates that even with you so uncomfortable he desperately needs to fuck you through the orgasm that he’s sure is going to tear through him. Just a little more. 

“Stay with me, stay with me.” he encourages, looming over you and arranging you into a better position, one where you can relax completely against the sheets. It makes him feel guilty, knowing even now he wont stop, but the way the new position seems to help you eases that guilt a little bit, enough for him to breathe a sigh of relief and continue to rut into you. “fuck, just a little more.” he soothes, watching as you nod nearly incomprehensibly. 

Your perfect, he’s sure he’s close- was even before you started to get hazy from it all, but the way you lay back and take it- so willing, even now- has him fucking into you with a reckless adandon. 

Nobunaga- 

It takes nobunaga a minute to realize how out of it you are- after all, aren't you meant to be hazy, shaky, absolutely desperate? Aren't you meant to be unable to form words, too far gone in the pleasure he gives you? His delusional mind thinks so, and he does love the sight of your flushed cheeks and your desperate gaze. 

“Can't take any more?” he asks you, watching the way your face changes as you struggle to comprehend his words. You shake your head, desperate to convey how lightheaded and uncertain you feel. “What’s that? Use your words.” he encourages, but quickly fucks himself into you harder, deeper, faster, and any words on your lips fail, all you can manage is a choked gasp as you feel any thought youd managed to scrape up disappear back into the void of your mind. 

You look so good he can't help but kiss you- his lips pressed seamlessly to yours, tongue invading your mouth. It can help your overwhelmed state, he’s sure, but it does serve to pull more of those cute little noises from you, swallowed up in the kiss. 

“Got nothing to say? That’s alright, I know what you need.” nobunaga knows your body well by now, he knows how to bring you closer and closer to the edge, he knows how to make you squirm and whimper, and he’s certain that he’ll be able to push you over the edge of consciousness as well. The very thought of being allowed to fuck your unconscious body has him fucking into you with renewed fervor. 

Shalnark- 

Shalnark notices fast the way your breath grows ragged, the way your eyes grow teary. It makes him smile, he’s too much for you, already got you on the edge of consciousness and he’s just getting started.“You’re so cute.” he’s not going to stop, not when you look like THIS, fucked out and desperate and teary eyed. He leans down to press a kiss to your lips, charmed by the way you clumsily reciprocate, likely on instinct, because it’s obvious your mind is somewhere else- or, more likely, your mind isn't anywhere right now. 

Shalnark never has trouble taking more from you than you can handle, and this is no different, in fact, this is even more so the case because you can't seem to beg him to stop. “take it, take it.” he accentuates each word with a particularly deep thrust into you, forcing a desperate cry from your lips each time. You seem a little too far gone to really decide if you need to stop or not, so he’ll decide for you, he doesn't mind. “don't worry baby, you’re alright.” 

Even if it’s too much for a cute little thing like you to handle, shalnark knows he isnt hurting you, and that gives him all the certainty he needs to continue fucking into you like he so desperately wants. And if you lose consciousness, it will only further establish the power he had over you, allowing him to truly do anything he wants with you. It’s perfect, so please, feel free to let go. “you can let go if you want. I’ve got you.”

[taeyongdoyoung]

wolf and bunny

summary: you ask your best friend to fuck you in your sleep but your bottled up feelings come out to the surface... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to lovers warnings: cnc/somnophilia, discussion of boundaries, eating out, touching, groping, unprotected sex, spanking, stranger+wolf/bunny roleplay, little red riding hood references, face-slapping (once), size kink, cockwarming, multiple rounds, feelings (ew), pet names, discussion of future scenario 👀 (i know i said this is the end but...we'll see) author's note: hii everyone, this is the third and final part of my wolf and bunny series, thank you so much for going on this nasty journey with me 🤍 part one & part two word count: 2k

You and Chan are having a bit of a disagreement in connection with the circumstances surrounding your next game.

“But I want to know exactly which night you’ll do it.”

“If you know, you won’t be able to fall asleep,” Chan reasons with you. “Kinda like Santa Claus. Kids stay up all night waiting for him and then he never comes.”

“Please, even if the kids were asleep, he’d still never come ‘cause the parents are putting the presents under the tree!”

“It was just a metaphor.”

“A bad one. You’re gonna have to work harder to convince me.”

“Hey, wasn’t this your idea in the first place?” Chan reminds you teasingly. “You’re the one who wants me to fuck her in her sleep.”

“Ey, don’t pretend you won’t be into it,” you shake your head.

You are both so stubborn you don’t see this ending unless one of you retreats. Then, after a brief consideration, you speak again.

“Fine. You can keep the secret of the exact night you’ll do this. On one condition.”

“Sure, bunny, let’s hear it,” Chan listens eagerly.

“If I wake up, you won’t stop. I’ll just pretend I’m still sleepy and we keep going.”

“Is that even possible? I mean, for you to not wake up?”

“It is if you drug me or something,” you shrug.

“Ugh, don’t give me such evil ideas. You never know when I might take advantage of you.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it, wolfie.”

“But are you sure the sleep thing is a great idea? I mean, you wouldn't be able to say a safeword...” Chan can't help but worry, always putting your needs first and planning every scenario in great detail to make sure you're alright. Damnit, could he get any more perfect? He's so sweet and considerate you wish you could just tell him how you feel. But what if that scares him away? What if you lose not only your wicked game buddy but your best friend in the entire world? You wouldn't be able to live with yourself.

“Yes, I'm positive, Chris,” you place your hand on top of his. “I trust you 100% and know that you'll look after me. The question is, do you trust my judgement?”

“I mean, I do trust you. It's just that last time you didn't communicate your discomfort clearly and I wouldn't want to risk messing up to the point of accidentally hurting you,” Chan verbalizes his anxieties.

“I get what you're saying but it's not like I'm open to doing this with a stranger. It's you we're talking about. You've always been great at taking care of people so I know you wouldn't go too far. But at the same time, I wouldn't mind if you went loose. If anyone can take it and accept you fully, it would be me.”

“Yeah, I know. You're right. But just in case, I want you to know beforehand that I care about you and respect you like a lot. So, even if I get carried away, I still want you to feel safe.”

“Aww, Chris, ya old softie! I always feel safe with you, it goes without saying!” you insist.

“Well, I like hearing you say it.”

You gulp nervously. His voice is so commanding and yet so reassuring that your words have never rung truer. He's more to you than a safety net and you hope he knows it. He's incredibly thoughtful and infinitely kinder than the first impression. He's a riddle in the way he keeps surprising you and yet you wanna keep learning more about him. He's hundreds of the loveliest words in the dictionary multiplied. He's more comforting than your favourite blanket. He's warmth personified and you would be an idiot to let him go.

“I'll try to say it more often, then,” you promise. “When I'm with you, I know no harm will come my way. But here's the thing...you're the only one I'd willingly let hurt me.”

“I don't want to hurt you, though.”

“You don't?” you pout, suddenly feeling guilty. Then, what have you been doing? Was he forcing himself to act out these fantasies for your sake alone? You genuinely thought he was enjoying them as much as you were.

“Sorry, that came out wrong,” Chan is quick to explain. “I like our games. I meant that I don't want to hurt you emotionally. Ever.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense,” you chuckle, feeling a little stupid. “Well, you don't need to worry about that. Glad we had this talk.”

“Me too,” Chan gazes at you fondly.

“So, which night are you fucking me while I'm asleep?” you attempt to find out while he has this dazed look in his eye.

“Next- Hey, nice try! I'm not telling you, you impatient devil.”

“Aw, man, I was so close,” you bemoan the uncertainty of your future.

“You wish.”

The long-awaited night finally arrives. Chan has a key to your place so entering it is too easy. He makes sure he picks a night when you’ve complained about being exhausted and sleepy all day long. And he is certain that you’re passed out in your room, not suspecting a thing. Well, a part of you is always anticipating what could happen, but still.

He’s beyond glad to find you sound asleep. You’re wearing nothing but a t-shirt and some flimsy panties. Chan admires your sleeping form for a couple of brief moments before he gets down to business.

He wonders where to start. Should he tear them up? Or maybe push them to the side? Should he grope your boobs through your shirt? Or perhaps slide his hands beneath it, stroking your nipples directly? So many opportunities. He wants to do everything, he decides.

Chan starts by moving your panties to the side and licking your tiny pussy. He touches you with his fingers, gently prodding your entrance but not exactly sticking them inside yet. Then, he sneaks his hand underneath your shirt, teasing your nipples. Fuck, you’re so soft.

He marvels at the knowledge that you’d trust him with something like that. Though the previous scenarios were hot and intense as fuck, this one hits different for him. Maybe because last time you were awake, you were still in control because you could say the safeword whenever. Maybe because you want him at your most vulnerable even in your sleep. Or maybe because he’s slowly falling for you, but he doesn’t know how to say it.

It’s okay. Chan’ll show you, instead. He pinches your nipples lightly and continues to make out with your pussy. You are so wet already it’s adorable. He wonders if you’re dreaming of him, as you shift slightly in your sleep. He wants to drag this out. But how?

He uses his nails to trace circles on your skin, which causes goosebumps to appear. Are you cold? He wants to keep you warm and full at all times. Chan can’t take it any longer and takes his cock out, sliding in so perfectly. As if you were made for him. Made to take his cock and let him do crazy things to you. His sweet little bunny…

You moan desperately and the spell is broken. You’re awake. He wanders if you’ll speak or he’ll have to make you. Both options sound quite appealing. But he wants to hear your voice more than anything.

“Shhh, go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Chan whispers gently.

“W-who are you?” you cry out.

Aw, you’re gonna pretend not to know him? That hurts. But it can be fun, he thinks.

“Just the big bad wolf,” he chuckles at the irony of it.

“Please, don't do this,” you fake not wanting it, even though you've never wanted anything so badly in your life.

“Oh, bunny, but I already am,” Chan replies, spanking your ass a couple of times in the meantime.

“G-gonna split me in h-half,” you mumble, voice muffled against your pillow.

“Yeah? G'na ruin my sweet girl?” he speaks to you so softly you want to melt right there and then.

“Feel so full 'n so s'eepy,” you slur helplessly.

“Aw, tiny, go back to sleep, then,” Chan pats your head soothingly.

“Can't. What a deep voice you have!” you play along too well.

“All the better to degrade you with, my slutty bun,” Chan laughs, while still continuing to fuck you.

“What big hands you have!” you keep saying.

“All the better to grab your tits with,” Chan chuckles and makes good on his promise by playing with your boobs.

“And slap me with!” you remind him playfully.

“As you wish, princess,” Chan growls and slaps you across the face harshly but not harsh enough to actually leave a mark.

“What big eyes you have,” you sigh wistfully.

“All the better to stare at you fall apart,” Chan responds cleverly.

“And what big cock you have!” you scream, barely resisting the urge to laugh. Are you a silly little bunny or Little Red Riding Hood? At this point, you don't care, but it feels too good regardless.

“All the better to fuck you with,” he grunts loudly, spilling inside of you.

You follow rightaway and urge him to stay like this for a while. Maybe round two is in order?

“You know what else is big?” Chan teases you.

“Oh, shut up, Bigfoot!” you reply and are no longer able to hold it in, breaking into laughter. Chan also finds the interaction hilarious and buries his head in the nook of your shoulder. You stroke his hair without realizing. Shit, he's so adorable you almost say the three words. Is it too risky? Too soon? You need a distraction. You need... “Fuck me again.”

“Already? Aren't you tired?” Chan wants to make sure.

“Fuck me till I fall asleep again,” you ask him.

“Um, okay, sure,” Chan looks a bit confused but does as you ask.

This time there is less talking and more fucking but no matter how many rounds you go, sleep doesn't come again. You both orgasm more times than you could count, but somehow, it isn't nearly enough to distract you from the inevitable. You love him. Your heart knows it, your pussy knows it, even your brain knows it but is stubborny telling you not to confess for fear of somehow ruining things.

Once Chan decides he's completely spent for the night, he pulls out of you and rips off the bandaid.

“Are you alright? Something suddenly shifted but I can't quite place it,” he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and nudges you softly with his shoulder.

“Do you want the truth that might mess up everything or do you want me to lie to you and say I'm fine?” you ask, even though you're already on the verge to tell the truth.

“With you? Always the truth, please,” Chan clearly states his preference.

You sigh deeply and tilt to the side so you're facing him properly.

“I think...no, I know I love you.”

“I love you, too, babybun,” Chan responds fondly and kisses you on the nose.

“In a non-friendly way. And I don't mean just sexually, either. I mean, the friendly way and the sexual way haven't diminished, of course. But I also love you in a...I want to be yours, your girlfriend, your lover, your romantic partner, your everything.”

Chan is taken aback by your words. You...feel the same?

“You already are,” he confesses genuinely.

“Huh?” you blink in shock.

“I mean...you are already my everything. But, if you'd like me to officially ask you, then...will you be my girlfriend, angel?”

“You...you'll have me?” you are still in disbelief.

“I thought I already had ya,” Chan pinches your cheeks lightly.

“Damn right you do, Mr. Wolf,” you giggle and pull him into a kiss.

He smells like autumn, his embrace exudes warmth and his lips taste like home.

“You have no idea how badly I've wanted to tell you about my feelings,” Chan confesses. “When I found that story of yours in your drafts, I just couldn't resist the opportunity. I hoped that if I turned your fantasies into reality that you'd eventually fall for me.”

“Oh, Channie...I've been falling for you for longer than you realize,” you admit shyly. “How could I not? You're everything I've ever wanted.”

So, this is what it feels like to have the world in your hands. Huh. You could get used to it.

Bonus:

“No, I'm not kidnapping you!” Chan is adamant as you two sit in a nice restaurant.

“But Chriiiis,” you whine. “You said you'd do anything for my birthday.”

“Anything but that!” Chan shakes his head in amusement.

“Why not? It can be fun!”

“Fun? What if something goes wrong, what if someone sees us and thinks I'm actually kidnapping you, what if...hear me out, here, I go to prison for it?”

“Well, duh, then I'd bail you out!”

“As if you could afford it,” Chan rolls his eyes.

“Hey! But seriously, I'll just tell the cops that I asked you to kidnap me.”

“What if they don't believe you and think you have a Stockholm syndrome?”

“I'll...think of something. Come on, we're going too far with the what-ifs.”

“You gotta be prepared for any situation. You'd know that if you carried the heavy burden of being a dom,” Chan tsks at you.

“I'd know that if you let me,” you give him a wink.

“That will only happen the day I agree to fake-kidnap you.”

“So, tomorrow? It's a date!” you grin excitedly.

“Keep dreaming, darling.”

“Oh, I will.”

The End

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 23: Regrets

Summary: Depression: a common mental health condition characterized by a low mood or loss of pleasure or interest in activities for long periods of time. 

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 9,940

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, mental illness, depression, very heavy emotionally, angst, Johnny gets his feelings hurt (but only for a moment), angst, everyone is having big emotions, Bella Swan-esque sad montage, angst, kissing, slight suggestive content, angst

A/N: Did I completely rewrite part of this during the editing process? Yes. Are you going to thank me for that? Also yes. I'm trying something a bit different with this chapter, so let me know what you think. It probably won't be a regular thing, but I just thought I'd give it a test and this chapter was the perfect time to do that.

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They say you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. 

They’re right. There’s a hole in your chest, an empty void. The squeaking of your shoes on the tiles sounds far away as you numbly walk back towards your room. 

“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks cautiously as you pause in front of your door long enough to turn the handle.

You turn to look up at him, his brows pinched and his eyes shining with concern. “He's gone.” Your voice cracks and shakes, breaking over the words like you're speaking the finality of the situation. 

You are. 

“I know.” Johnny reaches out, his fingers wrapping around your arm. “I wish there had been more warning, but this is usually how his solo assignments go.” 

You swallow thickly. “He'll come back, right?”

Johnny grimaces. “Ye know I can't promise that. But, there's no one quite as capable in the field as him, except maybe Price.” Johnny squeezes your arm gently. “He’s been doing this for a long time, kitten. Have faith in that, and his skills.” 

Johnny’s words do nothing to help the turmoil inside you, the fear and anxiety. One split second mistake, one wrong decision and you know it could be over. Everything could be over before it even started. Why didn’t you confront him sooner? Why didn’t you pick up on his true feelings, his emotions as quickly as he seemed to decipher yours? It’s not fair that they can be taken from you so easily and so quickly. There’s no room for argument, no room for any begging or pleading for them to stay. They have a job, and they’ll always choose that job over you. 

“Ye gonna be alright?” Johnny asks, letting his hand fall from your arm as you push open your door, entering your room before closing it in immediately, clicking the lock into place. You lean against the door for a moment, biting your lip to try and stop the tears as you begin to shiver from the dampness of your clothes. 

You leave your shoes in a pile next to the door before you pad silently to your bathroom, stripping off your clothes once you hit the tile. You’re shivering, a cold chill starting to seep into your very bones as you start the tub, letting it fill with water. The tears blur your vision, dripping into the steaming water as you sink into the bath. You can’t stop the tears as you sit there, not caring how hot the water is, not caring how it makes your skin feel like it’s on fire. You’ll take the pain, the discomfort. Anything to ease the pain that’s ripping your chest wide open.

It hurts, he won’t lie, when you close the door in his face. Well, it wasn’t entirely in his face. He was a foot away from the door, but it still causes a little ache in his chest, a little upset in his mind that you just cut him off like that. The click of the lock is like a finality, the gavel falling on your decision to distance yourself for now. 

The rejection of his offer for comfort has his beta stirring uncomfortably in his mind. Tears fill his own eyes as he stares at the handle of your door, wishing he could reach out and grab it, fling it open and take you into his arms and hold you until you stop crying, until the pain of Simon’s sudden absence goes away. 

“Come on.” John says quietly, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “Give her some time.” 

He lets John lead him away from your door and back towards the rec room. He shouldn’t be so hurt by your abrupt dismissal. You were quite obviously upset, upset enough to run out into the rain after Simon. He saw you race out the door, his stomach clenching in worry, but thankfully the rain had forced most inside. There was little threat to you, not with Simon there, but he had been worried you might not be able to catch him, that you might run blindly into the rain to try and find him. 

He had spotted the tears trailing down your cheeks as you walked back to the barracks, mixing with the rain that soaked straight through you. He’s used to his alpha having to leave suddenly, the distance and the worry are second nature now thanks to their jobs, their lifestyles. You’ve never been through this before with him, though, and so soon after the two of you were finally beginning to give in. It’s like a curse. They begin to get close to you, and then suddenly they’re ripped away. 

He almost feels guilty, like he’s responsible for your pain. If he hadn’t forced it, if he hadn’t put you both in that position, maybe you wouldn’t be so upset. He couldn’t have known, though, that Simon would be called away like that. It could happen at any time, they all know that. They always have to be ready, always have to be prepared to be called out. Even on leave they can’t guarantee there won’t be an emergency. It’s just the nature of their job. 

It wouldn’t have bothered any of them before you. 

“She didn't take it well, did she?” Kyle says as John guides Johnny to sit on the couch next to him. 

“Christ, she's so upset.” Johnny says, leaning his head in his hands. “If I hadnae pushed them, then this wouldn't have happened.” 

“You couldn't have known this was going to happen.” Kyle says, squishing Johnny between him and John to try and comfort the upset beta. 

“We didn't even know until a couple of hours ago.” John says, draping his arm across the back of the couch.

“If she's this upset at one of us leaving...how upset was she when we all left?” Johnny says, his stomach churning at the thought. No wonder you were so shaken when they came back. 

“The best thing we can do right now is leave her alone and let her do what she needs to do.” John says, pulling Johnny so he's resting against his chest. “She'll come out when she's ready.” 

The afternoon comes and goes, the rain slowing to a light drizzle. You still haven’t left your room, sealed inside, secluded from them. Johnny casts the closed door a wistful look every time he walks down the hallway, half tempted to try the knob and see if it’s been unlocked, but he stops himself. The last thing you need is to be scared by someone trying to get in. John is right. You’ll come out when you’re ready. 

John knocks on your door as they get ready to head to dinner, waiting a moment for some type of response. “We’re going to dinner, sweetheart.” He says through the door when there’s no answer to his knock. “Do you want us to bring you something?” 

There’s a quiet noise from your room, some muffled response to John’s question.

“We’ll be back soon.” John says, somehow able to make out what it is you said. Or maybe his plan was to bring you something regardless of whether you agreed or not. 

It feels strange, just the three of them walking to the mess. It’s not the first time they’ve gone just the three of them, but it feels different this time. It’s not Simon’s missing presence that weighs so heavily, it’s yours. 

There’s a tenseness that’s settled over them as they sit at the table, avoiding eye contact with each other.  Simon’s empty space at the table wouldn’t have felt so much like an empty chasm if you had been there to fill some of it. 

They’re not sure what to do, the feeling similar to what they felt upon their return. They knew it would be bad, but they hadn’t expected you to be in shambles like you were. Their pack mate is hurting, their omega is hurting, and there’s nothing they can do. They don’t know what to do. Johnny wants to kick in your door, rush into your room and envelop you in a hug so tight you’ll complain that you can't breathe. He just wants to help you, but that’s not what you want, what you need right now. 

He knows it’s his beta instincts, his need to comfort and soothe and support. If Kyle is feeling the same way, which Johnny knows he has to be, he’s hiding it well. Though, perhaps that’s just for his sake and John’s. He can’t even imagine what John is going through, knowing his omega is suffering in such a way. 

All because Simon is gone. 

How easily one missing piece could tear the pack apart. If something happened to one of them, or god forbid something happened to you, they might not be able to recover. They had always assumed their training would win out, that they could move past it in the way they would had there been nothing but the bonds of camaraderie between them. 

How silly that idea had been. 

It’s no secret death disrupts pack stability, shakes the bonds that tie a pack together. He remembers how his Grannie’s death had shaken his family for weeks and it had taken months to return to what could be considered normal after a partially expected death of a member of the pack. What kind of damage would an unexpected and sudden death do to a pack? 

Johnny shakes the thought from his head. There was always a risk. They all knew that, they all agreed to that when they signed up. He knows Simon is highly skilled, well accustomed to working alone, to completing solo assignments successfully. The risk of something happening was always high, but he trusts Simon and puts faith in his skills. 

John goes back through the line once they finish, making a tray for you and piling it high as usual. It always makes him happy to see how well cared for you really are. Despite the circumstances of you being added to their pack, he knows it could have been so much worse. There’s worse packs, worse alphas out there. At least with them, you’re an equal. You’re their precious omega, and they’d make anyone who threatened you regret that decision. 

John is surprised the handle turns when he tries it. You’ve gotten up at least, but he’s not surprised to find you back in the same place you’ve likely been all day. He closes the door behind him before moving to your bed, setting the tray of food down on your nightstand. You squint as he flicks the lamp on, reaching up to rub your eyes. The bed dips as he sits on the edge, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. 

“I know this is hard for you.” He says softly, brushing his fingers across your bare arm. Your skin is warm, likely from being burrowed under the blankets. “I can't even imagine what you're feeling right now.” 

“He's gone.” You say quietly, your voice hoarse from crying. 

“Just for a while.” He says. “He’ll be back.” 

“But you can’t promise that.” You argue, pushing yourself up to sit. Your cheeks are still damp with tears, eyes red and lips still trembling. 

“There’s always a risk,” He says softly. “But you have to trust Simon. He’s not going down without a fight.” He sighs quietly as your gaze drops to your hands, your fingers picking at the skin around your fingers. He slips his hand into yours, stopping you from continuing. “What’s eating you?” 

“I should have told him.” You sniffle, your eyes on his hand as your fingers close around it. . 

“Told him what?” He prods gently, curiously. 

“That I love him.” You say, lifting your gaze to look at him. “I should have said it but I didn’t and now what if he doesn’t come back? I love all of you, and I don’t want you to leave, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.” The words end in a sob, tears sliding down your cheeks again. 

Your words take him by surprise. It’s no secret how they feel about you, how their feelings have grown from curiosity to companionship to attraction and now to love. All of them have come to love you in their own ways, even Simon in his resistance wasn’t immune to his feelings, to their shared feelings towards you. 

“Look at me.” He cups your face gently, his thumbs wiping the falling tears. “I wish things didn’t have to be this way, I wish they hadn't picked us to be first for this. It's not fair to you, it's not fair to put you through this. I wouldn't change having you as my omega, but forcing you to live like this, to be left behind with the worry over something none of us can control.” He shakes his head. “It was a selfish decision by those who created the initiative.” 

“What...what happens if the initiative fails?” You ask softly. 

“We’re not giving you up.” He says, holding your gaze. “We wouldn’t want to, and we wouldn’t let it happen. You’ve been part of this pack since the day you stepped foot on this base. We wouldn’t have let you go then, and we sure as hell won’t now.” 

Your breathing is shaky as you stare at him, and he can see the wheels turning in your head, the hesitation as you debate whether you want to speak. He hates that you still feel this way, that you have to hide your thoughts from them out of fear or worry that they might be angered by them. He’s not sure there’s anything you could say that would anger him. 

“Would you ever leave for me?” You speak the words slowly, hesitantly, like they might bite you if you're not careful. 

He's not expecting it, though he has wondered if you'd ever ask it of them. If it might come to be too much and it leaves you no choice but to ask, to give them the ultimatum. He lets out a breath, all the answers he'd thought up in response gone as he sits face to face with you, as he faces this question out in the open for the first time. Tears are gathering in your eyes as you stare at him, taking his silence as second thoughts, as possible rejection. 

“Please be honest with me.” You whisper shakily, a tear slipping down your cheek. 

He watches its path as it slides down your cheek, pausing at the line of your jaw before it drips down onto your shirt. He lifts his gaze back to yours, the pain in them stabbing straight into his heart. He wants to say yes, that he'd leave in a heartbeat, give up what he'd worked his whole life to achieve, all for an omega. His omega. 

He wouldn't be able to sleep at night, knowing the kind of evils that exist in the world, the kinds of threats that linger in the dark. The evils that may pose a threat to you and his pack. You’ll never be truly safe, not so long as there’s others who know of your existence. Very few of them he’d truly trust with the knowledge that you pose a threat to their efficiency as a team, a weakness that could be exploited. 

What bloody fucking fools they were, leaving you alone like that. 

“Part of me wants to say no,” He admits honestly, ignoring the flash of pain in your eyes. “But it would depend on the situation. If your life was ever in danger because of us, then without question. If the initiative fails, if we can't adjust, then we may have no other choice.”

“The job comes first.” You say quietly, sounding defeated. 

“But there may come a time when it doesn't.” He says, trying to reassure you. “Don't worry about that too much right now.” He brushes a hand over your hair. “If a situation arises, then we'll talk about it further.” 

He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You lean into him, letting out a quiet breath. He pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly. 

“I love you too.” He says, his lips brushing the top of your head. “And Simon knows how you feel.” 

You shift in his arms, pulling back just slightly to stare up at him. Your brows are pinched as you stare at him. “What do you mean?”

“Simon is very good at reading people. Their scents, their emotions, their body language. Years of training paired with his own natural abilities.” He smiles softly at you. “He knows how you feel.” 

“Oh,” You say, shrinking into yourself. 

“He'll likely convince himself it's not true, knowing him and how he thinks. You'll have to tell him to make him believe it.” He pats your leg under the blankets. “Don't worry too much about him. He'll be back before you know it.” He pushes himself up to stand. “Eat your dinner. We'll be around if you need anything.” 

“John?” You ask, stopping him before he can leave. 

He turns back around to face you. “Yes?”

“Thank you.” You say. “For everything.”

A small smile pulls at his lips. “Of course.”

You're just stepping out of the bathroom when the knock sounds on your door. You had gotten up to rinse your face with cold water, your skin starting to feel tight and itchy after nearly an entire day of uncontrollable tears. You freeze at the sound of knuckles tapping on the wood, your heart leaping into your chest. Is it one of the guys coming to tell you bad news? Has something happened to Simon? 

Or is he coming back already? 

You’re half scared, half hopeful as you make the short journey across your room to the door. You feel like you’re moving in slow motion as your fingers close around the handle, slowly pulling it open. 

Johnny is standing on the other side, his face a mix of worry and sadness. It doesn’t help the despair already starting to manifest in you. Something must have happened to Simon. Something’s gone wrong. He’s not coming back, or they’ll have to leave to help him. 

“Ye doin’ alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, his brows furrowing as he stares at you. 

“Yeah.” You can’t help but wince at the way your voice cracks around the word. You sniffle, wiping at your nose with your sleeve. 

“I have somethin’ for ye.” He says, his hands fiddling with the fabric he’s holding. You hadn't noticed it before now. “I was gonnae do Simon’s laundry, but I thought ye might want this.” 

It’s one of Simon’s shirts he’s holding out to you, one of the black standard cotton t-shirts he often sports. Your fingers tremble as you take it, bringing the fabric to your nose. You don’t care that it’s dirty, having likely been soaked in sweat at one point. You inhale deeply, nose pressed into the fabric. It smells of soap and deodorant and him. Tears well in your eyes as you take in the scent, almost as if you’re getting it directly from the source. 

You’re moving before you realize it, your arms wrapping around Johnny’s middle. He seems almost surprised by your action, his body tensing for a second before it relaxes, his arms wrapping around you. 

“Thank you.” You murmur against his chest, a couple tears slipping from your eyes. You’re so tired of crying, but you can’t stop. 

“Yer welcome, kitten.” He says, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Ye need anythin’...” 

He leaves the other half unsaid, but you know what he means. You’re hesitant to pull away from him, wanting to just stand there and cling to him until Simon returns, but you know he’s busy. Eventually he’ll have to leave you too. You’re not sure you could handle watching him leave your nest, close your door behind him as he’s forced away to do his job. 

Your door clicks as you shut it, holding Simon’s shirt to your chest. You’re tempted to wear it, to slip it over your head and bathe yourself in your scent, but you know if you do that, his scent will just fade faster and become overwhelmed by your own. The desire to bury yourself in it is strong, let his scent sink into your body and overwhelm your own. 

Your eyes pass over the giant bear sitting in your desk chair before snapping back to look at it. An idea begins to form in your head as you set the shirt on your bed. 

You grab the bear, hauling it to your bed and sitting it on the edge. You pull the shirt over its head, stretching the neckline slightly. The shirt is slightly baggy on the bear, but you don’t care as you maneuver it so it’s laying on the bed, trying to picture Simon in its place. It would be a tight squeeze, but then again it always is with any member of your pack. Their bodies don’t leave much space on the narrow mattresses by themselves, much less with you curled up with them. You can’t help the stirring in your chest, the yearning for more space, for a bed big enough to fit all of you at the same time. Big enough for Johnny to starfish himself comfortably, for you to escape the inescapable suffocating heat of their bodies that will build up inevitably. 

Tears burn behind your eyes as you crawl onto the mattress, draping yourself across the giant bear. Simon’s scent wafts up around you as you press your face into the shirt, pretending it’s Simon you’re laying against. You can almost feel his arms wrap around you, holding onto you like you might disappear if he lets go. You squeeze your arms tighter around the bear, letting Simon’s scent seep into your mind and take away your fear and your worry and your pain for a little while. 

It’s two days later when you finally leave your room. You’ve managed to stop the onslaught of tears, calming down enough to exist without being a weepy mess. There’s still an ache in your chest, though, the gaping hole that won’t close. A piece of you is missing, a piece you hadn’t even noticed was there until it was ripped out of you suddenly and violently. Your hug with Johnny had been the first time it had felt less intense, the aching abating just slightly. 

They’ve just returned from their afternoon training, earlier than usual meaning they have some downtime before dinner. You can almost tell where he is before you leave your room, following the sounds of the TV. Your steps are slow and quiet, the cold tile biting into your bare feet as you approach the rec room. 

He’s seated on the couch, spread out as usual. His eyes flicker to you as you hesitate in the doorway, tugging at the hem of the baggy shirt you’re wearing. You’ve long forgotten whose it is, the name on the tag worn off and all hints of scent erased by the many times you’ve worn and washed it. The thought tugs at the hole in your chest. Eventually Simon’s shirt won’t smell like him anymore, faded and rubbed away by time and your own scent. 

“Hi kitten,” He says, breaking the silence between you. 

You let out a shaky breath before entering the rec room, approaching him. You can tell he’s expecting you to sit next to him, to curl up against his side by the way he moves his arm, but instead you straddle his lap, all but throwing yourself against his chest. He grunts quietly in surprise, his arm instinctively wrapping around your back. You lay your head on his shoulder, going limp in his hold. 

It doesn’t fix the hole, doesn’t remove the ache entirely, but you can feel it start to lessen as you sit there, getting as close to Simon as you possibly can through his beta. You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers twisting the fabric of his shirt. He wraps his other arm around you, holding you tightly as his scent begins to project around you. Nothing is said, but nothing has to be. He knows what you need, and he doesn’t even have to use his instincts to figure it out. 

A week goes by without a word from Simon or even about him and how he’s doing. You return to your normal routine in a numb, almost dazed state. You follow the rest of your pack around like a lost puppy, going to meals and following them to training when John allows, withdrawing back to your room like a recluse when you can’t. You sit in the rec room with them in the evenings, but you feel far away, distant from them and reality. You stare at the TV, but all you can see are blurry moving shapes. You can’t even read, often finding yourself staring at the cover until the words mesh and blur into something else. 

You never thought the distance could feel like this. You almost miss the fear of them all being gone. At least that had made you feel something. 

You see Dr. Keller twice as usual, both appointments unproductive as you fight to force some kind of life into yourself to drown out the numbness that’s settled. You’re far away, distracted from everything. Even food tastes different, more mushy and flavorless than usual. 

They’re worried about you. Even in your numb state you can tell that. John hovers closer, allowing you to follow them more than he probably should. It’s not like you’re paying much attention to what they’re doing, seated far away from anything that might put you at risk as you stare up at the sky, or off at the trees in the distance. Even when you’re inside, your gaze is far away, never quite focusing on anything. 

Johnny and Kyle keep you close as much as they can, squishing you between them on the couch or when you walk to meals. They’re always touching you, holding your hands, brushing your skin, wrapping their arms around you. They’re trying to comfort you, and it works for a little bit, not even your numbness impervious to a beta’s soothing presence. They hold onto you like they’re trying to keep you grounded to the earth, like you might float off and disappear into space if they don’t. 

You don’t sleep well, electing to sleep in your room every night. It’s a vast difference to what you had been doing, avoiding your room as much as possible. You’re seeking out the safety of your nest, a comfort only it can provide despite everything that’s happened. You feel bad for pushing them away, keeping them at a distance, but at the same time, you don’t care. 

You just want Simon back. 

“I’m worried.” 

“I know. I’m surprised you didn’t come here sooner.” 

He feels strange, sitting in Dr. Keller’s office alone. It’s not the first time he’s been here, spoken to her about you. After their return from their first assignment, he had sat with Dr. Keller and gone over everything that had happened during their absence, or at least as much as she could tell him. Anything you talked about was considered confidential, but at least she could tell him if there were any issues or incidents. 

“She’s depressed.” Dr. Keller answers before he can even ask. “It’s not uncommon for omegas to become depressed after separation. Even when there’s necessary splitting of a pack into a satellite, there’s a risk for all omegas to develop depression because of it.”

He should have known. He’s seen it happen to soldiers, when the blood staining their hands grows to be too much and they begin to recluse in their own bodies, becoming empty shells of who they were before. You’ve become a shell, a body simply existing out of necessity. 

“What can we do?” He asks, unable to keep the mask up, to hide his concern and fear. 

“Not much more than you have been.” She says. “Keep supporting her, reminding her that you’re there. There’s an adjustment when a bond begins to weaken. Omegas are especially susceptible to it, and with how strongly connected and aware of her instincts and emotions she is, it’s going to affect her more.” Dr. Keller sighs, leaning her arms on her desk. “I don’t think anyone has ever taught her how to balance or even use those purebred instincts. Institutes are supposed to, but from what we know, they teach subservience over anything.” 

John shifts in his seat. Of course no one would have cultivated those abilities. It would have made you too aware, made the risk of you being able to manipulate them too high. Your job was to serve them above all else, so why would those teaching you want to give you that ability? Those instincts would have made you a perfect omega, able to pick up on the slightest changes, the needs of your pack. Yet, if you became too aware of your own abilities, it would give you too much power over them. That’s the one thing institutes don’t want...an omega that knows how powerful they are. 

“How do we teach her?” He asks. 

“I can help her with balancing those instincts and emotions, but only someone who knows can really teach her how to be successful at using them.” 

“Simon.” He says, the pieces beginning to come together. 

“If he didn’t know how before, his military training would have cultivated those instincts. That’s why purebreds are so sought after by militaries. Of course, it’s a bit different for alphas and omegas, but you are two sides of the same coin.” Dr. Keller smiles. “She’s smart. She’ll begin to figure it out on her own once she’s aware she can do it. In the meantime, just keep doing what you’re doing. If there’s some way she can talk to him or get in contact with him, that may help alleviate some of the depression.” 

He knows it won’t be likely, but if it will help you, he’s willing to take that risk. “I’ll see what I can do.” 

He stands outside your door, staring at the knob. It’s late, his eyes burning from exhaustion. He’s stressed, not just from the day to day stressors of his job, but your obvious pain and discomfort has been affecting him. It’s affecting all of them. Kyle and Johnny’s times on the course have slowed, their aim is off, and he knows they’re not sleeping well either. 

Even with you beginning to return to your normal routine, your distance from them has proven to affect them more than your presence. Even with you around them, your numbed, absent state has disrupted their abilities to function, to exist as a normal pack. He’s relayed the sudden change to Kate in an attempt to prove his decision not to leave you alone is the right one, and it will help his case should they decide to try and separate you from the pack. 

He can’t think of a reason why they would now. The bonds are too strong. The separation of just one of them has proven to disrupt the bonds between all five of you. He can only imagine how Simon is feeling, being apart from everyone. It’s never bothered him before, but that had been before your presence. If Simon was incapable of fulfilling his duties and performing the task he had been assigned, they would have forced him out of the field and sent him back by now. 

Perhaps your fears were right and Simon isn’t as in love as John thought he was. 

He shakes the thought from his head. He’s seen the way Simon looks at you, the obvious change in his demeanor since your trip to town, the changes that have happened in your demeanor around him. Simon cares for you deeply, more than just as an alpha in your pack. 

He tries the handle of your door, surprised again when it opens. He might have thought you’d start locking it at night again with how much you’ve regressed. Maybe this was your silent plea for help, for comfort, for something other than the emptiness inside you. He slips into the room, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light of your nightlight in the corner. He can’t see you except for your arm tossed around the giant bear. It’s wearing a black shirt, likely the one Johnny had given you. It was a good decision, offering you at least an extension of the missing alpha. 

He approaches the bed quietly, not wanting to startle you. He doesn’t want to climb over you either, but he knows moving the bear will wake you. Perhaps you’re exhausted and sleeping hard enough he won’t disturb you. 

He picks the lesser of two evils, lifting the bear. He curses silently when your body shoots up as soon as the bear slips from your grasp. 

“No!” You shout, almost like an angry child having their toy taken away. It’s a desperate sound, a shocking one, ringing loud in the silence. You’re reaching for the bear, trying to tug it from his hands. 

“Easy, easy.” He says, putting his hand on your arm, your movements slowing to a stop as his touch brings back to reality. “I’m just moving him.” He shifts the bear to your other side, your body rolling to follow it. 

He climbs into the bed, barely managing to fit on the mattress. It’s a tight squeeze with the two of you and the bear, but he’ll manage it. He’s slept in tighter places. He slips an arm under you, the other reaching across you to settle on the bear. 

“Tight squeeze with the three of us.” He says quietly, trying to ease some of the tension. 

“Need bigger beds.” You murmur, voice slightly muffled from where your face is pressed against the bear. 

He chuckles quietly. “I won’t argue with that. Perhaps someday.” 

You shift slightly at his words, obviously not expecting him to continue your conversation from earlier this week. He normally tried to avoid thinking too far into the future. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up for something he might never get to have. Or, at least he used to feel that way. 

Things have changed. 

“I used to think this job would be all I did.” He continues, speaking almost to himself. “I’d never grow old enough to retire. Someday I’d die in the field and that was good enough for me. Then, of course, things changed. Had those three other muppets to worry about.” He slips his arm from the bear to wrap around your stomach. “Then another little muppet got added. Now I’m thinking about a nice little cottage by the sea, big enough for five, with a nice flower garden in the front. Just a short walk to the beach, where we can sit and watch the sun set.” 

“White picket fence dreams.” You say quietly. 

“Or at least the British equivalent of that.” He says, a smile tugging at his lips. 

You shift slightly in his arms, pressing back against his chest as you turn as far as you can. “You mean it?” 

“Of course.” He says, his thumb gently rubbing your stomach through your shirt. “Things have changed. Priorities have shifted, and not just for me.” 

He presses his forehead against the side of your head, breathing in the soft scent of your strawberry body wash and the new vanilla scented shampoo Johnny had gotten you. There’s a faint hint of leather beneath your scent, the smell rubbing off from Simon’s shirt you dressed the bear in. He can almost imagine Simon in place of the bear, both of their arms tangling around you as they surround you and keep you safe from the outside world. Just a moment of peace in the hectic violence and chaos of their lives. 

“John?” You say quietly, pulling him from the edge of sleep that had settled in his mind. 

He hums quietly in response, forcing himself back to consciousness again. 

There’s a moment’s pause, a second of silence, and for a moment he wonders if you’re going to speak at all. “Don’t let go.” You finally say, your voice quiet and broken in the silence. 

“Never.” He says, tightening his hold around you. 

John's phone ringing drags you from the light sleep you had managed to slip into. It hasn't been long since you drifted off you think, but then again, it's hard to tell. It's still dark out, and you're still in the same position. John lets go of you to reach for his phone on your nightstand barely managing to grab it at the awkward angle he’s at. 

His voice is rough with sleep as he answers. “Hello?” 

It's quiet for a moment. You can't hear much aside from a male voice on the other side. You can't tell who it is or what they're saying. 

“Good to hear.” He says, slipping into the Captain again. 

Something stirs in your stomach as you try to listen, try to catch who it is. Just one word, just one hint. 

“I'm sure.” There’s another pause, this one feeling like a lifetime. “I have someone here next to me that would like to talk to you too.”

You nearly elbow John in the stomach in your frantic attempt to turn over. You yank the offered phone from his hand as you lean the top half of your body on his stomach. “Hello?” Your voice wavers as you say it, the emotions beginning to stir within you again. 

There's a second delay before you hear it. “Hello, love.” 

You nearly cry at finally hearing his voice again, the pet name causing a fluttering in your stomach. You've never heard him call you that before. “I missed you.” You finally say, managing to get the words out. 

“That's what I'm hearing.” He says, and you can imagine the lifting of his cheeks under the mask, the slight crinkle of his eyes as he smiles. 

“When will you be back?” You ask. 

“Soon. Won't be much longer.” He says. 

“Be careful.” You say, your breathing shaky. “You better not come back hurt.” You're not sure you could handle it if he came back on a stretcher, or even with a single bandaid. 

“Yes ma'am.” He says seriously, but you can hear the humor in his tone. “I'll try my best.” 

“Good.” You say, wanting to lay there, to listen to him breathing for a while, just so that you know he’s really there, he’s really alright. You know you can’t though, your fingers shaking as you pass the phone back to John. 

He speaks to Simon for a couple more minutes while you lay across his stomach, listening to the rumble of his voice in your ear. Relief is flooding through you after hearing Simon's voice. He's really alright, he's fine, he's coming home. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” John asks after hanging up, his hand coming to rest on your back. 

A thousand words want to come out of your mouth, but you can't get them up past the lump in your throat. “He called me love.” You finally say, replaying the pet name over and over in your head. 

“Did he?” John asks, and you can picture the way his lips turn up in a smile. 

“He's never called me that before.” You say. 

“Well then I'm sure he meant it.” John says. 

You sure hope so. 

It's a week later when you get to stand on the tarmac again, waiting for a plane to land. It's early, the sky clear and the sun just starting to rise over the trees, casting everything in a golden light. It’s so vastly different from how the world had looked when he left, the weather seeming to convey your inner feelings. The rain and darkness a perfect symbol of the dread and pain of him leaving. Now that he’s returning the sun is out and the sky is clear, conveying your relief. You’re beginning to feel again, the ache in your chest beginning to lessen. It’s the most alive you’ve felt since he left. 

You're in a dress today, the yellow sundress that Johnny had bought you. You wonder if he’d done it on purpose, perhaps knowing something you don’t. Despite the sun rising, there’s still a chill in the air, and you had quickly stolen his sweatshirt to cover your bare shoulders. 

You squeeze John's hand as the plane comes in to land, watching it approach in eager anticipation. You're going to hug him tightly, throw your arms around him and refuse to let go until you have no choice. You're going to give him the greeting he deserved weeks ago when they all came back. 

He's like a magnet, halfway down the ramp when you start approaching, moving without even thinking. He's in his full mask, the one with the half skull sewed to it. He looks dangerous and deadly, the true visage of a Ghost, but you approach without fear, without hesitation. Underneath all of it you know there’s Simon, the man you’ve quickly fallen in love with. 

You're ready to hug him, to feel him again, to wrap yourself around him like you could sink right into his body. 

You're not prepared for what he does next. 

One of his hands reaches up, the fabric of his gloves rough on your skin as he grips your chin, his thumb on one side, digging into your jaw, the other four fingers on the other side holding your head still. His other hand pulls his mask up over his mouth, giving you a glimpse of his stubble and chapped lips. 

You don't get to look long as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours. 

It's like time freezes as he kisses you, your skin erupting in goosebumps, and it's not from the cold air. You weren't expecting this, your brain trying to catch up, to process that this is really happening, that this is real. 

He tilts your head to the side, deepening the kiss as he leans closer into you. Your hands reach up, closing around the sleeves of his jacket. He's real, he's really here, and he's kissing you. 

The moment likely doesn't last more than 30 seconds, but it feels like forever as his lips move against yours. It might be cliche to say fireworks are going off, but that may have just been the engines of the plane shutting down.  

He finally pulls away from you, his hand still gripping your jaw. You could melt into a puddle right there, his eyes speaking volumes of what's going on in his head. He's done a lot of thinking in his time away. You wonder how many thoughts you've shared over the last two weeks. 

“Should have done that before I left.” He says, his voice rough, but just as you remember. 

Tears prick behind your eyes as you stare up at him. His fingers are digging into your jaw, but you don’t care. He’s here, he’s back, he’s safe, and he just kissed you like you’d wanted to before he left. 

“I wish you had.” You say, as he slowly releases your jaw, his hand brushing your throat before it drops to his side. You let out a shaky breath before throwing your arms around him, holding onto him tightly. 

“What are you doing?” He says, taking you back all those weeks ago to when you hugged him the first time. There’s no confusion in his tone now though, instead there’s an amused lilt to it. 

“Giving you the hug you deserve so you don't get mad at me.” You say, your voice slightly muffled from your face being squished against his chest.

“You think I'd get mad about not getting a hug after kissing you?” He asks, patting your back. 

“Just making sure.” You say, his chuckle reverberating in your ear. 

You don’t release him as he begins to walk to where the others are, keeping your arms wrapped around him tightly. He greets the others, Johnny squishing you between them as he hugs his alpha. You don't care as Ghost's armor digs into your body, it's just a reminder that this is real. He's really here. This isn’t a dream. 

He's really back. 

You sit between Simon and Johnny in the back seat of the car. It's a tight squeeze between the two, but you don't care one bit. Johnny's hand rests on your thigh as John drives back to the barracks. Perhaps you’re still reeling a bit from the kiss, or perhaps it’s Simon’s scent, but you want to push Johnny’s hand higher, hike up your dress and hope Simon gets a peek at what's waiting underneath. You won’t though. You want him to be comfortable. You want your first moments of intimacy to be just the two of you, something special. 

Dread begins to fill you again as the car rolls to a stop outside the barracks. You know what to expect now, having gone through it once before. He’s not truly back, he still has to leave you again. At least this time, you have the others. 

“I'll see you soon.” Simon says, squeezing your arm. 

“Hurry back?” You stare up at him. 

“As fast as I can.” He says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. 

You're tempted to kiss him again, but you don't want to push his boundaries. Sure, he had kissed you, but it could have been a fluke, a one time thing born out of desire and time spent apart. 

You won't care if he never kisses you again. At least you know what it feels like. 

Thankfully he makes the decision for you as he turns his body slightly towards you, as much as he can in the tight space. He lifts the bottom of his mask, leaning down to kiss you again. You purr against his lips, your scent exploding in the car like a smoke bomb. 

Johnny lets out an extensive curse as he fumbles for the door handle, forcing it open in an attempt to escape the sudden onslaught. Kyle is quick to follow, allowing more air in to disperse the intensity of your scent in the confined space. John rolls his window down, lighting a cigar, trying to do anything to keep your scent from going straight to his head. 

You feel giddy and almost proud as Simon places one last soft peck against your lips. You don’t want to let him go, but you know you have to. He’s not quite yours yet. He still has more of his job to do before then. 

Always the job first. 

Your lips are still tingling as you walk into the barracks, your heart still fluttering in your chest. Johnny is staring at you, almost walking sideways. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, your face warming. 

“What?” You ask, finally looking at him. He’s wearing that stupid, smug grin on his face again.

“Been a long time since I've seen him like that” He says, squeezing your arm gently. “Not since his first romp with Kyle.” 

You turn to look at the other beta behind you who simply shrugs. “What can I say? No one's immune to my charm.” He gives you a dazzling smile. He’s not wrong, his smile causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach. 

“Cannae wait to see him glowin’ after his first taste of our sweet omega.” Johnny says, backing you against the wall. 

“Yeah, well, you might be waiting forever for that.” You say, stopping his approach with a hand on his chest. 

He tilts his head at you, his brows furrowing. “What do ye mean, kitten?” 

“I'm not even sure he's going to want that, much less if he'll do it.” You shrug. The thought has been going through your mind despite the kiss in the car. Though he’s kissed you twice, that’s a big leap to make, a leap you might never make. 

Johnny snorts at your response. “Kitten, he's been holdin’ himself back for weeks. He's just worried he may...be too much for ye.”

You give Johnny a look. “I can handle you, can't I?”

Johnny grins. “Aye, but this is...different. He's not gonnae make the first move. If ye want it,” He leans in closer. “Yer gonnae have to do it yourself.”

“Well,” You slip under his arm, nearly making him faceplant on the wall. “Then I best save my stamina for him, then.” 

Kyle laughs, patting Johnny's back. “Set yourself up for that one, mate.”

You peel off Johnny's sweatshirt, adjusting the top of your dress before tossing his sweatshirt to him. “I'll see you both later.” You give them a smirk before turning on your toes, heading back to your room. 

Johnny curses quietly behind you, and you just know his eyes are glued to your ass. 

Johnny’s words replay over and over in your head as you go through your day as usual. Simon had returned to the barracks, going straight to his room to shower. You had been tempted to step into the hallway, to wait for him, but you know he’s not free yet. He still has paperwork to do, which you know from experience that could take a long time. 

Thankfully, that gives you plenty of time to think about what you’re going to do. You're going to have to make the first move, but what if you move too fast? How do you even broach the subject? 

“Hey Simon, welcome back. Would you like to rearrange my guts?” 

“I cried the whole time you were gone, would you like to make me cry for a different reason?”

“Bend me over and fuck me like a real alpha.”

You facepalm at your own thoughts. You could just slowly initiate it. Start with touches, getting closer, more kisses. Leave yourself open to him in hopes he gets the message, that he pushes past that boundary and finally fucks you like he wants to. 

Heat blooms in your stomach, sinking between your legs. You're all worked up and he’s only kissed you twice. Johnny’s words don’t help the fantasies in your mind. He’s scared you won’t be able to handle him. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought. He’s a big man. You know, you’ve felt it before. It’s hard not to, with some of the positions he’s put you in during your training, nothing but those grey sweatpants and his underwear as a barrier. 

You wonder how he'll do it. Bend you over so you won't see his face? Keep the mask on and put you on your back so you can hold eye contact with him? Or will he finally take the mask off, finally let you see his face? 

You assume the others have seen it, so when will it be your turn? 

It’s not until after dinner when you hear footsteps down the hall. Johnny had gotten food for Simon who was still deep in his paperwork when you left for the mess. Despite his absence at the table still, it had felt less gaping, less like a black hole threatening to suck you all in. He’s back, he’s here. Soon he’ll fill that empty space again. 

You try to stop yourself from running out of your room when the steps get closer. You’re not even sure it’s him. You don’t want to disappoint the others if you leave your room so excitedly in the hopes that they’re Simon. So instead, you stay seated on the edge of your bed, staring at your unlocked door. You want him to open it, to step into your room, but you know he won’t. He’s never been in your room. The furthest he’s entered is your doorway. 

You’ll have to make the first move. 

Your stomach nearly leaps out of your body as the boots stop in front of your door. You hold your breath in anticipation, too scared to move, too scared to throw open the door and risk your excitement being too much. You might push him away in your eagerness, but you’re not sure you can hide it much longer. You’d let him bend you over with the door open, hell, you’d let him take you in the hallway. 

One step at a time. One step at a time. 

You repeat it over and over in your head as you push yourself off your bed, moving to the door. He’s not going to knock, he’s going to wait for you to open it, for you to remove that barrier between you. He’s giving you the chance to change your mind, to go back, to call the two kisses enough and draw the line where you want it. 

The doorknob is cold in your sweaty hand as you grasp it, turning it slowly. The gavel is falling, the slow opening of the door marks the finality, the crumbling of the final barrier. There’s no going back. The bond is too strong, the line has been removed completely. 

You stare up at Simon as the door swings as far as it will open. His eye black is gone, washed off in the shower revealing the pale skin underneath. He smells good, cleaner than he had on the tarmac. You can smell it despite the space between you. Under the smell of his generic soap you can pick up his natural scent. Leather and eucalyptus and the musk of alpha. You want to drown yourself in it, rub it all over your skin until your own scent is gone. 

“Hi.” You say, goosebumps forming across your skin from the intensity of his gaze. You’d forgotten how sharp it is, how easily he can peel away your layers as he stares at you. 

“Hi.” He says, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. You’d forgotten how deep it really is, the roughness around the edges harsher than usual, but you expected that. They had all been a bit hoarse after returning from their group deployment. 

You continue to stare at him, lost in his earthy gaze. The hole in your chest has lessened to almost nothing, slowly the bond repairing itself just from the knowledge he's here, he’s standing in front of you. He’s real. 

You clear your throat, smoothing your hands over your dress. His eyes drop, following the movement. “I thought you'd want to rest.” It's the first thing you can think of to say, speechless in his presence. He must be tired. 

“I slept on the plane.” He shrugs. 

“Yeah, but surely a real bed is a relief.” You say. You’d half expected him to retreat to his room, seeking out a comfortable bed. They’re not all that comfortable, but compared to what he probably was sleeping on these last couple weeks, it must feel like heaven. 

“Probably is.” He says, his gaze shifting back to your face. 

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at him. You’re testing the waters, pushing into new territory as the last walls of the barrier crumble around you. “You could go rest.” You say, shifting on your feet, giving him the option to turn away, to change his mind. “I’m sure you missed your bed.” 

He’s still as a statue as he looms in your doorway, his frame filling it easily, making you feel small. “I'd rather relax in yours.”

Your face warms at his words, not expecting him to say that. The warmth pooling in your stomach intensifies, your heart fluttering in your chest. You’re not sure what happened during his assignment, what caused such a drastic change. You want to know what went through his head, what he was thinking about. Did he picture you at night when he got a moment to rest? Was he imagining you there with him, curled up against him? Or was he picturing you in other positions? 

You might never know, just another secret hidden between you. 

A shudder runs through him. You can see it, the slight twitch in his body, his hands closing into fists. He’s responding to you, to your scent. Such power you could hold over him if you were brave enough to try. 

Such power he could hold over you, if he wanted to. 

“You could come in.” You say, taking half a step back in invitation. 

He doesn’t move, still frozen there like a statue. You wonder how he stays so still, but that was probably part of his training. Be as steady as possible while shooting, how to be invisible even in broad daylight. “You're sure?” He finally rumbles out, his foot shifting just a centimeter, but you catch it. 

You shrug. “Why not? You are part of this pack. You could have entered sooner, if you wanted to. I wouldn’t have minded.” 

He hesitates for just a second before moving his foot from the tile and into your room. He pauses there for a moment, watching you, waiting for a reaction. It’s your turn to stay still, staring up at him as he makes the slow transition into your room, venturing into your sacred space, a place he’s never been in before. 

He moves the other foot, taking the first step over that line, pushing himself past that barrier, leaving it crumbling behind him. 

There’s no going back. 

Something shifts inside you as he enters your room, a weight you hadn’t even realized was there lifting off your shoulders. The hole in your chest is gone, the missing piece back in place. All the tumultuous emotions, all the stress and the fear and the anguish is gone. Your room is safe again, complete again with him in it. Tears prick at your eyes as relief floods through you. No one is getting in, no one can get in now, not with him here. You want to hug him, to kiss him again, drag him onto the bed and make him hold you for a while. 

You don’t. You stay still as he takes in your space, his eyes scanning your belongings and your decorations. He’s never truly seen it in the light. The only time he’d stared into it was that morning when you thought maybe someone had broken in, when your fear had fucked with your emotions enough to think they’d truly let someone enter without their knowledge. 

How silly that thought had been. 

His eyes move to your bed, landing on the giant bear wearing his black shirt. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare at it as well, suddenly thinking you should have removed the shirt, shoving it into your laundry and moving the bear back to your desk. Yet, you want him to see it, want him to see that you tried to comfort yourself in his absence, tried to make a placeholder for him. You won’t need it now, though. Not with the real thing standing in your space. 

He shakes his head as he stares at it, rolling his eyes as he lets out a sigh. “Fucking hell.”

NEXT ->

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[shikiii-skadi]

How the Twisted Wonderland characters look at you:

INCLUDES: riddle rosehearts, deuce spade, azul ashengrotto, floyd leech, kalim al asim, jamil viper, rook hunt, epel felmier, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia, silver, sebek zigvolt

WARNINGS: reader is described as shorter than floyd, reader wears mascara in rooks part

NAVIGATION: Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

❤️Riddle Rosehearts❤️

Like you are the most beautiful rose in the garden - According to the rules, each rose at the unbirthday party had to be perfect. But even your imperfect sides made you beautiful. But that had to be against the rules, right?

❤️Deuce Spade❤️

Like he wants to make you proud of him - Deuce had made many mistakes during his delinquent days but he is more than determined to change and become an honor student. Every time you support him or help him archive his goal, he feels the overwhelming urge to make you proud of him. Which is why he puts even more effort into everything (which may or may not end badly).

💙Azul Ashengrotto💙

Like you are an easy target for his schemes - You were just a helpless and magicless human from another world. Who would have been better to manipulate in a contract, that was clearly more beneficial to the contractor than the client, than someone like you? But you weren't as naive as Azul thought you are and were able to somehow wiggle yourself out of every attempt of his to either make you sign a contract with him or be otherwise in debt to him. Seems like you are quite intelligent. He should definitely keep an eye on you. Of course, this has nothing to do with personal reasons.

💙Floyd Leech💙

Like you are a squeezable little shrimp - You were just so defenseless and small compared to Floyd, that he couldn't help but squeeze you incredibly tight every time he saw you. I mean, he has that urge with everyone he sees, but with you, it was extra strong. And you could do nothing but accept it if you didn't want to risk becoming the cause of one of his scary mood swings.

🧡Kalim Al-Asim🧡

Like you are a ray of sunshine - Whenever Kalim saw you, he was beaming with joy. You were just so much fun to be around. His everlasting cheerfulness was through the roof when you were around. Kalim has definitely impulsively purchased things for your entertainment, like a jet ski, so he can witness your laughs and smiles more often. (Jamil is crying in a corner)

🧡Jamil Viper🧡

Like he has his only rest when you are near - As vice houswarden of Scarabia and Kalim's attendant, Jamil rarely has even five minutes to relax. No, scratch that, he never actually had time off. But when you are there, he can finally get a well-deserved break. Scarabia could be on fire or Kalim could fall off his flying carpet in those few minutes with you, Jamil doesn't care. He will deal with it afterward.

💜Vil Schoenheit����

Like he is the only one, who can make you reach your full potential - Vil could clearly see the beauty you possessed, even if it was diminished by your miserable living conditions and the little money Crowley gave you for clothes and beauty products. But fear not, that is where Vil steps in. He was sure that he was the only one capable of leading you to your utmost beauty.

💜Epel Felmier💜

Like you are his damsel in distress - I mean, yeah, sure realistically Epel knows that you don't need him to save you and that you aren't really a helpless damsel, but it makes him feel manly when you ask him to open a jar for you or get something from a higher shelf.

💜Rook Hunt💜

Like you are the embodiment of beauty - Rook enjoys to watch you in every situation of your life. You just come home having to run the entire way from the school building to Ramshackle Dorm with Grim in tow through the pouring rain, your clothes are completely soaked, your hair looks like a wet dog, and your mascara is running down your cheeks. Rook has never seen anything more beautiful.

💙Idia Shroud💙

Like you are a cute kitty - Idia is a cat lover. And he can't help thinking that you're just as cute as the fluffy feline creatures he loves so much. Not that he would ever say that out loud. The thought alone was enough to make his hair turn red. And a plus is that you don't run away when he approaches you.

💚Malleus Draconia💚

Like you are his only friend - Malleus was very lonely all his life until you ended up in Twisted Wonderland and made his favorite ruin your home. You were the only person who ever thought of inviting him, who didn't run away in fear or put him on a pedestal. Instead, you just treated him like a friend. And Malleus was sure to treasure that for all eternity.

💚Silver💚

Like you are his fairytale princess/prince - Among all the eccentric characters at Night Raven College, Silver was almost unnoticeable. Not that he was particularly bothered by that. But you always managed to make him feel special, even if he was just a mere knight (that's what Silver says at least). And when you jokingly tell him that he was like your knight in shining armor, that must mean that you are his princess/prince then, right?

💚Sebek Zigvolt💚

Like you aren't that bad for a human - Sebek wanted nothing to do with you. You weren't worth his attention because you were just a mere human. In addition, you have greatly upset him by having the audacity to call his great liege by a silly little nickname. Imagine how irritated Sebek is when he realizes that he thinks your company is actually quite nice. Maybe you're not that bad for a human. Not that he actually likes you, of course! No, he is definitely not blushing!

[themultifanshipper]

Hi! I love your fics sm

Please don't feel obliged if this makes you uncomfortable, but I was wondering if you wouldn't mind writing something where reader has vaginismus and the driver is so sweet about it :3

For Max or Oscar (but I don't really mind any of them tbh)

Max was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. He was incredibly patient and understanding. Frustratingly so. 

Warnings: smut, talk about vaginismus, oral, fingering, improper medical procedures 

Disclaimer: people with vaginismus have different experiences with the condition, this fic is vaguely based on a friend of mine's experience, do NOT do what is described in this fic, if you are seeking treatment then talk to a doctor because this is NOT the proper treatment method IT IS FICTION… that being said, enjoy the filth. 

You'd been scared to tell Max about your condition at first. 

All your other relationships had fizzled out because the guys were either too impatient or annoyed, or disgusted with you. 

Which is why you expected Max to be the same. But you couldn't have been more wrong. 

You sat him down one day, texting him beforehand to warn him that you had something serious to talk to him about. 

He tapped his fingers on the table while you made some coffee. 

Once the steaming mugs were in front of you, you just came out with it. 

“I have a condition, called Vaginismus” 

Max just blinked, which made you smile at his clueless face. 

“Do you know what that is?” you asked. 

“Uhh… no” he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. He didn't like not knowing things. 

“That's okay. It's quite rare. It's a condition that makes sex painful, or at least difficult if it’s not treated properly” 

He nodded. 

“And basically it's an involuntary response to penetration. The muscles contract and it can be painful…” 

His brows furrowed. 

“So how do you… do you have sex?” 

You huffed out a laugh. “Well not since we've been together, but yes I have had sex before, but most of the time it didn't work” 

He blushed. “And have you  tried, you know… treatments?” 

You took a sip of coffee before answering. 

“I started. Sometimes it works, but it takes time and effort.” 

 “Okay…” he muttered. “So it's just penetration that is painful?” 

You nodded. 

“So I can eat you out?” 

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

“I- yes. Yes, I suppose you can.” 

He got up and walked over to you and held out his hand. 

“What, now?” you asked incredulously. 

He shrugged. 

“Unless you don't want to?” 

You were taken aback by his attitude. 

“That's it? You don't want to know more? You're not… disgusted?” 

He stroked your cheek with his thumb. 

“Why would I be disgusted. It's not like you can control it. As long as you are happy, I am happy. And if you want to try treatments, that's up to you. I'm not going to force you. I have a fully functioning hand, and as long as I can bring you pleasure in other ways, I'm good” 

Tears sprung to your eyes and he melted, getting down on his knees and stroking your thighs. 

“What is it? Did I say something wrong?” 

You shook your head. “You're the first man to not react badly. You really are the one” 

He blushed even darker at that. 

“Well let's see if I can make you come with my mouth, then you can decide” 

It was your turn to blush. He led you to the bedroom and lay you down on the bed, dragging your clothes off and admiring your body. 

“Fucking perfect. Can't wait to devour you” 

You scoffed at his cliché choice of words and he smirked. 

He spread your legs, licking his lips as he gazed at your already glistening cunt. It was all his, and he was going to prove to you he was worth it. 

He licked a stripe up your folds and you shivered. 

His eyes were on yours the whole time, studying your reactions, every twitch of your hips for any indication that he was doing a good job. 

He brought his hand up to thumb at your clit lazily while he took a quick breather. 

“Wait, I can't finger you can I?” 

You blinked at him. 

“Uhh… not at the moment, no” 

He nodded, taking it in his stride. “What about my tongue?” 

You groaned and he smirked up at you, proud that he was getting you this flustered already.

“Yes, your tongue should be fine” 

He dove back in gleefully, happy to have new information. 

You felt his tongue prod at your entrance and you gasped. 

He mistook that for discomfort so he retreated. 

"No” you begged, your hands going to thread in his hair to hold him there. “Keep going, it feels good” 

Max hummed and continued, pushing his tongue further inside you, and his nose bumped your clit every time.

He quickly figured out how to use that to his advantage, and he rubbed it against your clit with purpose every time he pushed his tongue inside you. 

You took an embarrassingly short time to come after that. 

Once Max had figured out the fastest way to make you come, it became a daily ritual. 

And the absolute sweetheart was doing as much research as he could to understand your condition, and how to treat it. 

He didn’t push you though. If you wanted to seek treatment that was your business.  

So he waited, and was perfectly happy to eat you out every day for the rest of his life if that's what was required of him. 

But a few weeks later you sat him down again. This time on the couch, and you were next to him with your legs over his lap as you chatted. 

“So I have some news…” you were looking at him with a shy smile, almost looking guilty about something. 

When you didn't elaborate he tried to diffuse the tension. 

“Well I know for a fact you're not pregnant. Unless you found another way to get my sperm and babytrap me”  

You slapped his chest and giggled. 

“No, Max. Although that is a great idea, thanks for the suggestion.” 

He laughed and leaned his head on the back of the sofa. 

“What I wanted to tell you is that I think I'm ready for the next step.” 

He frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, up until now my condition has been mostly situational. A stress response, and sex has always stressed me out, for obvious reasons.” 

His hand was stroking your leg soothingly, which encouraged you to carry on. 

“I've been working on this since we got together. And I feel very at ease when I'm with you. And when I'm not with you…” you blushed and looked at your hands, suddenly shy. 

“Hey. Tell me. What about when I'm not here?” 

You looked up at him. 

“I've been fingering myself” 

You bit your lip, waiting for his response but he just stared at you. 

“You-" you could tell he was picturing it, although his expression remained mostly blank. “Okay…” 

“So really you're supposed to get these dilators, right? But I figured, fingers do the exact same job, and they're free. So I started out with one. And you're supposed to do it for like 20 minutes a day or something. And it has to be snug but not tight or painful, and when it feels fine you move up a size. So I'm now up to two fingers, which is fine, so I need a size up, but three fingers is way too much so I'd need someone with bigger fingers than me…” 

Max blinked. 

“You see where I'm going with this?” you asked encouragingly. 

“No?” Max was lost. All he could picture was you sticking your fingers up yourself for 20 minutes a day while he was out. 

You sighed. “Your two fingers are bigger than my two fingers, but smaller than three. So… I need you to finger me” 

Max just blinked again. 

It took most of your willpower to not slap him 

“Stop fucking blinking and say something” 

“I… are you sure it's safe? I mean you're supposed to do it with like proper equipment and-” 

“Max I swear to god if you start Maxplaining my own treatment to me I am going to lose it” 

He promptly shut up. 

“So we are going to go into the bedroom, and you are going to stick your fingers in me for twenty minutes. Can you do that?” you batted your eyelashes at him. 

“Yes” he rasped, and you giggled at him before leading him over to the bedroom. 

He lubed up his fingers, sliding one in to test the waters, and see your reaction. 

You nodded at him and he slipped the second one in. 

You immediately felt the difference with your own. 

It was a stretch, but not painful whatsoever.

And Max was already hard in his pants. 

This wasn't about him though, this was a medical procedure to help you out, nothing more. 

He knew what to do. 

He moved his fingers gently in circles, just like he'd read about on all those forums, towards the front, the back and to the sides. 

You looked at him in awe. 

“Max… how do you know what you're supposed to do?” 

He smiled gleefully at you. “I've done a lot of research” 

You melted into the bed, doing your breathing exercises as he continued to stretch you out. 

Your alarm rang when the twenty minutes were up, and you were almost disappointed. 

Despite it not being sexual in nature, you kind of liked being this close to your boyfriend. 

It felt very intimate. 

You did the same thing four days in a row, and it became a routine for Max, because every time it was over, he ate you out, and then you gave him a blowjob. 

Which is why when you told him you were moving up to three of your fingers and didn't need him for the next few days, he honestly felt like you'd put him on a sex ban. 

But when you explained to him that that just meant you didn't need him for the medical part, but he could still put two fingers inside you while he ate you out, his spirits were lifted instantly. 

A week later, it was time for three of his fingers, and that was a real stretch. 

It wasn't painful, but as soon as the third slipped in, you felt full. 

Your breathy gasp alerted Max. 

“All okay?” 

You nodded. 

“More than okay… I feel so… full.” 

Max twitched in his pants. 

“I suppose that's normal… my fingers are pretty big” 

You hummed and Max started the usual exercise. 

Except this time, it felt different. It felt almost… pleasurable. 

As it went on, Max noticed you were getting progressively wetter.  

After about 5 minutes of trying to hold in your noises, you let out the tiniest whimper. 

Max stopped his movements and you let out a soft whine. 

Max raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Did that feel good?” 

You huffed “Too good. I think you're gonna make me come like that if you carry on for much longer.” 

Max bit his lip. “I suppose that's good. It means you're relaxed” 

He continued the slow circles and you let out a shaky exhale.  

“Don't keep your noises in” he piped up. “It will just make you tense up. Let them out” 

You couldn't go on like this, it felt too good to not take advantage of it.

You glanced at your phone. 

12 minutes left. 

“Max, if you can make me come just like this in the next twelve minutes I'll let you come on my tits” 

Well with an offer like that how could he possibly refuse. 

“Can I use my mouth as well?” 

You looked at the time again. 11 minutes 37 seconds… 

“I suppose” 

His tongue ghosted over your clit as his fingers moved in their usual slow circles. 

You moaned and he smirked. 

Some medical procedure this was shaping up to be. 

He crooked his fingers upwards just the slightest bit, and the noise you let out was confirmation that he wouldn't need the full 11 minutes. 

You came with 7 minutes left on the timer. 

And you were so relaxed he swore he could have slipped a fourth finger in, but he didn't. That would be abusing your trust, and he was determined to be patient and see this through to the end. 

After another couple of weeks you deemed yourself finally ready. You'd done 4 of your own fingers, then 4 of his larger fingers. And you came every single time. 

And Max had bought you a small-ish dildo to make properly sure you were ready. 

He was away for a race weekend when you used it, but you sent him plenty of proof that you could take it easily, and he was very grateful. 

When he got back, you had a candle lit dinner, wine and all, before he took you to bed. 

You were eternally grateful to Max for sticking this out with you, it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for you, even if it did just involve sticking fingers inside you. 

When Max finally lined himself up with your entrance, he was so nervous he felt like a virgin again. 

When he pushed in it was like the stars had aligned. Everything just felt right.

You had tears in your eyes (of happiness) and you pulled him down for a passionate kiss. 

He rolled his hips and you moaned into each other's mouths at the incredible feeling of finally being joined like this. 

Max lasted about 3 minutes he was so excited. Bless him. 

But he made up for it in the best way. 

He proposed, that night, while you both sat on the balcony in the warm Monaco air as the lights of the harbour twinkled below you. 

Yeah, he was the one. 

[backinmyphase]

Failing student! Sukuna who didn't really care about all the missed lessons he had in his record. He didn't, not even when the principle called him into his office. Who cared about what that old hag had to say?

He really didn't care, just until he saw you sitting there with that horrified look as you saw him.

You, the president of the student council, who he had always thought was a stuck up bitch. Always a nerd, always getting good grades, always following the rules. Utterly boring, that's what he thought about you. But still fun to tease.

Failing student! Sukuna who is annoyed as hell with the fact he had to hold a little meeting with miss perfect and the old man. He takes a seat, the only other one which was unfortunately next to you.

"You can't be serious?!" you turned your look to the old man. Your voice was annoyingly high pitched.

"I can't... Not him!"

Now you had his attention. He turned to you, seeing you not even sparing him a glance anymore. "Woah, woah, what's with me, sweetheart?"

You kept ignoring him and just shook your head. "Please, I can tutor anyone else, but not..."

Failing student! Sukuna couldn't help but laugh at your horrified and desperate face as you started pleading with the principle who was just shaking his head. Your pathetic attempts to argue were almost cute.

"If you really want my recommendation for your college application, that's my only condition. Get Sukuna's grades up."

Failing student! Sukuna 's  Laughter died down as he realized what that meant.

"Wait a second, I don't need tutoring! And especially not from goody two shoes over here."

"Oh, believe me goody two shoes doesn't want to have anything to do with wannabe bad boy too-"

"Quiet you two!" the old man cleared his throat. "Sukuna, you haven't showed up to two thirds of your classes, you need tutoring. And Y/n if you really want to work for that recommendation you'll help him with that."

"Now get out of my office you two."

Failing student! Sukuna is in disbelief to what the fuck just happened as he and you stood outside of the office. You stood there with crossed arms and a fuming expression he had never expected from you.He just turns around to leave as you let out a groan in frustration.

"So when will our lessons start?"

He scoffs. "Never."

You followed his steps and kept that demanding tone. "Sukuna, you can't just decide that, the principle ordered us-"

"I don't care what that old man says and I especially do not care about that little recommendation of yours." he yawned as he kept his steady steps. "I don't need better grades."

You stop in your tracks and he's almost disappointed by your lack of stubbornness until you say-

"You are that hard of a loser?"

Failing student! Sukuna is immediately turning around to see your smug expression. Flabbergasted at your words, because there was no way the biggest nerd of the school just called him a loser?

"What the fuck did you just say?"

And he doesn't know why but that devious grin that forms on your face is starting to fire something inside of him up.

"You're a loser." you sarcastically sighed. "I mean failing in high school? I don't even know how you achieve something like that."

You giggled. "I mean, you probably couldn't better your grades till the end of the year, even with my help. Let alone ever be better than me."

Failing student! Sukuna doesn't even realize how you had him wrapped around your finger as he glared at your smug grin.

"Of course I could. And you know what?" he took big steps towards you, now towering above you. "I could do it even until next month, sweetheart."

And then you smirk. "If you think so. But to prove it to me..." you let out a dramatic sigh. "I guess you would have to come to my lessons."

"Oh, I will come to your fucking lessons." he didn't know why he was so worked up, but he couldn't help it as he glared at you.

"Perfect. See you tomorrow in the library after class." And with that you just turn around and leave him standing there. Shouting a quick "Don't you dare be late, you loser!" back to him.

Failing student! Sukuna doesn't know what's gotten into him as he watches you leave, but he can't help but start smirking too, because who would've thouth the stuck up president of the student council had such a foul mouth?

It was hot.

[clos-posts]

Okay so, hear me out:

I've been on a bit of a Merlin fanfic hyperfocuse and came across another "I'm Emrys" where Merlin has to perform magic for Arthur to believe him, in front of the entire round table council, and I had a thought.

So, we all know that Merlin is magic itself, spells that seemed powerful to other sorcerers are not that powerful to Merlin and my hc is that these spells barely make his eyes turn gold, like maybe a flicker so fast the average person will miss it.

So I imagine Merlin saying he's Emrys and Arthur being all 'well then prove it' and Merlin makes a fireball (cliche I know but bear with me). Now Arthur has seen this spell and though he has a merger knowledge of magic, knows that it's quite a powerful spell and that most sorcerers eyes are practically a blinding gold, but Merlins eyes don't change. That and Merlin doesn't even speak and therefore didn't cast a spell.

Arthur, thinking that some other sorcerer helped Merlin with his self-sacrificing, kind-hearted, not wanting anyone to die personality, appear as if Merlin is this 'Emrys' and in a patience but patronizing tone tells Merlin that's is honorable to try and protect this Emrys, but his eyes didn't even change colour and therefore can not be a sorcerer.

Merlin, in a very Merlin way, huffs and proceeds to say something like 'Well duh, that was a very simple spell. Doesn't even require that much magic to perform' and the entire room goes silent.

(meanwhile Guise blood pressure has skyrocketed and is on the verge of either killing Merlin himself or having a heart attack. He hasn't decided yet.)

Arthur, absolutely baffled (and a little turn on at the casual display of apparently immense power), asks: 'What will make your eyes gold then? If you even are a sorcerer?'

Merlin, never one to back down from a challenge and already too deep into this, shrugs and says 'We would need to be outside'

And that's how the whole council ends up on the training grounds opposite Merlin waiting in anticipation as to what he will do.

There's silence so thick that no one dares break until Merlin starts to chant. At first nothing happens and Arthur is relieved (and a little disappointed), but then clouds start to gather, think dark clouds above them, and Merlin starts to get louder. Thunder claps across the sky and there electricity in the air making Arthur's hair stand on end and a shiver works its way down his spine. He looks at Merlin and though it's subtle at first, his eyes are glowing gold.

The tension builds and builds and with one final shout from Merlin, his eyes, a brilliant gold, as lightning falls all around him, clashing to the ground destroying the train field in its wake.

Arthur can do nothing but stare. Breath caught, heart hammer, and a sudden hot arousal catching him off guard. He can do nothing but stare at Merlin, his loyal manservant, standing amidst the lighting with his head thrown back and a look of contentment on his face, as if performing magic of this magnitude is comfortable, relaxing, an everyday occurrence.

When Merlins eyes meet Arthur's, there's a, small, sad smile on his lips, and then quicker then it had started the lightning stops and the clouds disappear, and the only thing that can be heard is the birds beginning to sing again.

Arthur can't think of anything to say and stupidly say 'you destroyed the training grounds'. Merlin at this point blushes, stammers out an apology before waving his hand with a few muttered words and the training field is in perfect condition once again.

Arthur and the entire council are baffled.

Then, before anyone could say anything, Arthur blurts out a command for Merlin to go to Arthur's chambers and he does. Without question. Just a shrug, and walks off. Arthur is wheeling. This powerful sorcerer, who just showed them a feat that no mortal man will ever replicate just listens to his command with nothing but a shrug!

Anyway, once Arthur has calmed the council somewhat he makes his way to his chambers. Once he enters Merlin is speaking so fast it's hard to keep up, something about coins, destiny and then shockingly how Arthur is the only person that can kill him if he uses Excalibur. What. The. Fuck.

Arthur: I'm not going to kill you Merlin!! Why would I kill you?!?

Merlin: Well, I mean, umm, I'm a sorcerer? Emery's? The strongest warlock to ever walk the Earth?

Arthur: I'm not going to kill you Merlin. However! If you do not take me to bed and absolutely ravish me in the next 10 minutes, I may have to resort to drastic measures!

Merlin, absolutely gobsmacked, face red: Wh- what measures..?

Arthur, absolutely confident, turned on beyond belief, practically gagging for it: I'll start begging.

And before he knows it Merlin pounces, and the rest is history.

That was not meant to be as long as it was... 😂

BUT!! If someone who writes fics could take this and write a fully fleshed version on this and then tag me in it I would be forever grateful. ADHD and dyslexia does not make a good writer for me unfortunately 🥲🥲🥲

OH! One last thing! I have a hc that cold iron had a natural negative field which repels energy which is why those that have learned magic have it cut off when chained in cold iron. They can't draw upon their magic from the energy around them. However, with Merlin being magic it's a little different for him.

So, I had this image of a knight, without prompting thinking he's doing what the king would want, walks up to Merlin at some point during his light show and slaps cold iron shackles on him. But, instead of the magic stopping, Merlins eyes grow brighter and bright, and the shackles start to shake and groan, because whilst cold iron does repel energy, it's a little hard to do that from both sides and can't take the pressure. At some point the shackles start to glow as the negative properties of the iron are being overwhelmed and forced into itself. Merlin looks down, looks back at the now terrified knight and says: You should probably duck. And no soon has the knight hit the ground the shackles explode, for lack of a better word. No harm done to Merlin tho.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Love without lust

Emperor Caracalla x wife!reader

warning : smutish, erection problem, hurt/comfort, kissing, cuddling

Summary : After the festival lots of food and drink was passed around, coins were handed out and bets were placed. Above all, it was also the rhinoceros that had been prepared, Caracalla brushed himself with the special powder...but in the hours afterwards he had to realize lamentably that once again he could not pursue his love and lust even if he wanted to.

info : OMG I knew I had to write this idea after reading the script, but he can't have anything nice without suffering. Have fun reading ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A leader had to be strong and successful, he had to be a strategist and always two steps ahead of everyone else, but he also had to be windy who could wrap everyone around his finger just to strike at the right moment.

There were also attributes of kindness and yielding in order not to be rejected in negotiations, as a ruler it was always a fine line between being right and being condemned.

But there were attributes that at least Geta somehow managed to get right, who at least somehow tried to lead Rome for a few years, trying to implement all the knowledge his father had taught him and it all worked somehow, that was the main thing.

Everything worked except his brother Caracalla was not what he was supposed to be from the beginning, too bad, too jittery, not perfect and with his progressing madness it got worse and worse.

He loved his wife, his brother and Dundus, but above all it was his lucid moments that hurt him when he saw what he had done, what he had failed to do, that only hurt him more.

As much as his wife's encouraging words reassured him, if he could just take her hand and enjoy it he felt less bad, ,,My amusement is to see your joy” he had once told her when he had presented a trick with Dundus and her smile had enchanted him.

It had warmed his heart and made his stomach tingle with love and lust, something they would perform in the bedchamber...wouldn't he provide there too.

At first they were hardly noticeable, but they both had a duty to fulfill, an inheritance to be made, and even if the love was there, the emperor's body seemed to belong less and less to him.

As often as he sought out his beloved to make love to her, to make her happy in the light of torches, the more often it was his body that could not and he lay in her arms, ,,It will work out one day,” she tried to comfort him and stroked the blond hair on his head.

Even if their unhappiness boiled over from time to time, an empire like Rome's needs heirs, at least one, and when Geta died Caracalla would not be able to rule alone, not in his condition.

It was an open fact that was told behind closed doors...but this was not to be the case today. A big party was thrown when the new gladiators had fought and the arena fight in particular had pleased many of the elite and especially the emperors, ,,A ravishing celebration my dear” came from the empress's lips as she sat on the couch next to her husband.

Caracalla's broad grin reflected his excitement, there was the best food, gold hung everywhere and the exoticism only seemed to increase, ,,It's to everyone's liking!” she heard Geta say louder and cheers could be heard as her brother-in-law gave her a quick friendly glance.

Before the marriage it had always been Geta who had taken care of his brother, now he had found a helping hand in her and a compassion that meant a lot to him, returning the look she placed her hand on that of her husband.

Blue eyes that glanced hastily from the audience to her became calm for a moment, ,,You like it? Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked more quietly, almost unsure that he couldn't give her everything.

She nodded and leaned in to give him a quick kiss, feeling him cling to her, his answer coming from the woman who meant so much more to him than all of Rome could. So much more than a wife, a mother, a daughter, an aunt, someone to play with, to love, to desire. She was his heart.

The festival progressed and at some point both emperors joined the company themselves, which she did, some merchants had brought the latest fabrics and toys, both things that she and Caracalla both liked, which is why she left her husband's side for a moment.

A moment of which she was unaware of what he was doing, or rather what he hoped to gain from it, when only minutes later all the nobles gathered again in the main hall to attend the gladiatorial fight, during which she held Caracalla's hand to stem the tide of his euphoria.

The fight, the blood, the excitement, all of these things were something he liked more than ever since his illness. He knew that it somehow did him good, but it could also be insidious, which is why she always kept an eye on her darling.

But even when the fight was exciting, the crowd was cheering and even Geta the gladiator was applauding, Caracalla seemed more interested in enjoying himself than in swapping stories, so she left him and only said a few words of appreciation to the “poet” before she was the first to leave to put an end to the last hour of noise, wine and debauchery.

She used this time to occupy herself with embroidery, read books about fertility and tried to find a solution to her husband's problem with the doctors, which was more difficult than she had assumed.

From old writings that were hardly lesbian, to alternative remedies that were more deadly than helpful for her, to the idea that she should sleep with Geta, which was out of the question for her and them.

She knew how hard it was to run an empire and be there for the family at the same time, but she wanted to help if she gave birth to an heir, but it was Caracala's "fault" that it didn't work, because where there was no seed, there could be no child.

Hours that slowly brought the day to an end, she spoke once more with Geta who wanted to consult with the Senate the next morning, Caracalla disappeared into his room and did not take part in the meal - not unusual but disappointing.

The three of them were always calm, not too mad but not too sad either, he was kept happy by her and his brother and now alone, ,,He will find himself...believe me he always does” Geta tried to cheer her up before brother-in-law and sister-in-law wished each other goodnight and disappeared into their respective bedrooms as the moon slowly rose over Rome.

Her own toga already removed and her servants sent away, she wrapped herself in her evening cloak and lay down on the bed, her eyes on the text on the parchment as the crackling of fire from the torches could be heard...until she heard footsteps and only moments later the door to her chamber was pulled open.

,,Caracallas! Is everything all right?” she asked, unsure if anything had happened, which is why he came in so exuberantly, almost jittery, more excited than usual as he let the doors fall shut behind him and ignored her question, heading straight for her bed and leaping towards her.

Hands taking away her parchments and a broad smile that took her by surprise as he engaged her in a hasty kiss, his hands trying to open her robe trembling with overwhelm and her own fingers barely able to stop him.

,,Alive! My love I feel more ready than ever” he finally answered as he broke away from her, a brief moment between them as he looked at her, his blue eyes dilated and she saw the white sweater still lightly on his nose.

What had he taken? The question popped into her head, but when she felt his lips on her neck, nibbling and biting, she knew that whatever it was might lead to a result that pleased them both.

Her hands loosened his own clothes as best they could, he caressed her body, taking in every spot that wasn't covered, and she fell back into the pillows as she enjoyed his touch again.

Her fingers stroked through his blond hair, ,,Such a beautiful boy," she praised him and saw the bright pink waves between the smudged make-up, heard his groan and kissed him once more as he ran his hands over her breasts, massaging them lightly and kissing the warm skin further to her center and she hoped in her increasingly lust-filled mind that it would work.

The love between them had felt this good for a long time and she was almost as excited as she had been on their first night of marriage when he pushed her robe off her thighs and her body was almost completely exposed.

She closed her eyes as she could almost feel him...but when she heard the sudden rustle of fabric and a intake of air, she opened her eyes, slightly confused.

The lust that had just taken hold of him was mixed with panic and fear, blue eyes clouded with tears as he looked down at himself and looked like he was going to cry, ,,Don't...not again...I'm sorry” he couldn't quite form the sentence, he moved away from her avoiding her gaze as she slowly brought clarity back into her own head and straightened her robe.

Carefully crawling over to him, she placed her arms around him, pulling him into an embrace and feeling the tremors as he cried, as tears dripped and makeup smudged, ,,It's okay, I'm not disappointed you know that...it will work out one day,” she assured him as she caught a glimpse of his body.

What was initially a lust, an arousal was now a soft one again despite the drug he must have taken from the party, but Caracalla shook his head and held on to her tightly, only slowly catching her as his words simply turned back into tears.

,,You are an emperor, Caracallas you are my husband, my sweet sweet boy do you understand?” she asked as she took one of his hands to stroke him slowly over the head.

The empress voice cracked slightly as she saw him so hurt again, it hurt to see him like this when he was so full of joy, so full of confidence that he could finally give her a child...that he could finally be a better father of his own and she could finally be a mother who cared for a real child and not him.

Her kisses on his head continued to judge him all around and she slowly let him go, ,,Yes-Yes I understand...I thought it would work, just once more it didn't have to work...our love could have accomplished so much” he slowly let out and repositioned himself.

His head shot to hers in prayer and his blue eyes looked up at the painted ceiling showing the heroics and gods she held out one hand for him to hold onto and her other continued to stroke his head like a mother would, like his mother had done.

She held him there while the torches burned around them and she gradually felt his peace, ,,Our love will reach so much” she assured him saw blue eyes look at her and his smile became confident, he believed her and two hearts beat the same again that night as fear and sorrow were submerged in soft loving kisses and they had a night of safety and above all true love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@cottoncandiescupcakes , @k-yurieee , @somepallings , @abundance-of-fic-reblogs , @artandmusicdubs , @eddie-munsons-mommy , @duck-duck-goose2 , @userchai , @the-a-word-2214 , @sweeteststing , @qardasngan

[myth1cs]

Slay the Princess (Shin Ryujin x M!Reader)

This is smut, Sorry!!! Finishing this week with Ryujin ... Again Word Count: 3,093

Chapter 1: The Hero and the Princess

You're on a path in the woods. And at the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a princess. You're here to slay her. If you don't, it will be the end of the world.

Or at least that's what you've been told. You are the kingdom's best knight. From a young age you've always been the "best". When your mandatory service happened you always performed the best. The higher ups noticed you and you quickly rose the ranks. Eventually you became the king's personal guard.

One day he pulled you aside and told you about this mission. He didn't trust anyone else but you. He told you how a while ago a dangerous princess was locked in a cabin basement deep in the woods. He feared one day she would break out and "end the world". He wanted you to slay her once and for all.

So here you were, as you walked to the cabin you remembered the king's warning before you left.

"Y/N she will lie, she will cheat, and she will do everything in her power to stop you from slaying her. Don't believe a word she says."

You were skeptical. How could a princess "end the world." Even if she was that dangerous why didn't the people who locked her there kill her?

It was all suspicious. You planned on asking a few questions before slaying her. As much as you trusted the king you felt as if something wasn't right.

You made your way up the cabin. When you entered you noticed how bare it was. Only a table and chair were in it. The only other thing was the door to the basement. You drew your sword your "pristine blade" was the only thing you took with you to "do the job".

You put your hand on the doorknob. Slowly you turned it, opening the door. When you opened the door you were immediately hit with a smell of disgust. It wreaked in there smelling horrible like dead animals. Your eyes started to sting.

But no matter, you have to do your job. You thought to yourself that if the princess really had been stuck down here then slaying her would probably be doing her a favor.

You made your way down the stairs. The stairs creaked as you walked on them alerting the princess of your presence.

"H-hello? Is someone there? I've been stuck here for so long please tell me your here to rescue me!"

Her voice was perfect. It was the type of voice you only need to hear once to remember it for the rest of your life.

You made your way down the stairs and saw her. She was beautiful. Her pink dress and her crown she had. She looked stunning. But how were they in such good condition if she had been stuck in the basement for so long?

"Are you my hero?" She said with hope in her voice.

"Y-yes well I mean no ... I mean." You were stuttering over your words you wanted to help her. But you can't forget your mission.

"What do you mean?" The princess looked at you confused.

You composed yourself before speaking up. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions first?"

The princess looked upset when you said that. "Okay but can you hurry up sir hero? I just want to get out of here."

You made your way up to her. But before you could get close to her the princess spoke up.

"Hey can you put your sword away? It's making me uneasy."

You're not sure why but you did as she asked. You put your pristine blade away and sat in front of her.

"So princess ... actually is princess too much? Do you want me to call you something else?"

"You can call me Ryujin."

"Right so Ryujin do you know why you're stuck down here?"

She hesitated before answering "No, but there must be a good reason. I mean you don't just lock a princess in a basement without a good reason ... Right?"

"Wait, you're not sure why you're here?"

Ryujin stayed silent. She looked like she genuinely wasn't sure.

"I don't know."

You wanted to help her. But you couldn't forget your mission. You considered what to do with her until she suddenly spoke up.

"Have you decided what you want to do with me?"

You thought for a moment. "I'm sure I could just watch over her. If she tries anything I could slay her." you thought to yourself.

Even though you were told to kill her you didn't want to harm her. You wanted to help her escape.

"Okay so here's what I'm going to do. So I'll help you free and I'll watch over you. But if you do anything that could harm someone than I won't hesitate in slaying you."

"That's fine by me."

You tried to find a way to free Ryujin from her chains. Her right wrist was chained to the wall. The metal looked old so you bashed it on the wall until it broke. Ryujin got slightly hurt in the process but she didn't mind.

"Now let's get you out of here."

You and Ryujin made your way upstairs. Closing the basement door behind you, you both looked at each other.

"I just realized I haven't caught your name sir hero."

"Call me Y/N."

"Y/N thank you for rescuing me. You deserve a reward you know."

"Oh really that's fine I'm just doing what's right."

"No I insist. From which kingdom do you come from? I'll ask my father to make a generous donation to it. And you to of course."

"Well I come from the Hei area."

"Noted, I'll make sure that you're compensated for your trouble Y/N."

"Ryujin do you know your way back to where you're from?"

"I don't, I'm not familiar with this area. But I'm sure I can figure it out."

You didn't want to leave Ryujin alone. What if she got hurt? Or worse the person who originally imprisoned her finds her again.

"I'll take you back to my place. But we'll have to be sneaky the guards always inspect soldiers whenever they come back from a mission."

"Well what do you suggest Y/N?"

-

As you made your way back you and Ryujin were nervous. You were banking on this one plan and you didn't have a back up plan. It was all or nothing.

You made your way to the back entrance where your friends Hwang Yeji and Kim Ji-woo were stationed.

You made your way up to them and they stopped you.

"Hold up Y/N who is she?" Kim Ji-woo asked

"Chuu, her name is Ryujin she's someone who I found wandering around. She said she was homeless and I wanted to bring her to my home." Even though her name was "Kim Ji-Woo" you always called her "Chuu".

"Yah! Y/N don't call me that!"

"Hold up Y/N I thought you were sent to slay a princess. So why is she dressed like one?" Yeji looked at you skeptically.

"I took the princesses clothes when I slayed her and gave them to Ryujin so she wouldn't have to stay in her old clothes."

"Wait you took the clothes off the princess? ..... Was she hot?"

"Yes no ... wait what? Why is this the question your asking Chuu?"

Chuu looked at you with her face becoming a little red.

"Well I just want to know if she was attractive or not."

"Alright Y/N you can come in just make sure to report her first thing in the morning so she can become an official citizen of the kingdom." Yeji said getting tired of the conversation you and Chuu were having.

You lead Ryujin to your house near the castle. Making sure to avoid being seen by anyone.

You eventually made your way home and let Ryujin in.

"So this is your place Y/N? It's quite nice."

You showed Ryujin around your house. Leading her to your bedroom you told her that she could stay there until you got back. You had to report to the king that your mission was successful.

"Wait Y/N before you go at least let me reward you."

Ryujin grabbed your arm

"What do you mean Ryujin? You already said you would you don't have to give me more."

"I just feel bad that I can't reward you yet and just want to give you a quick reward."

Ryujin walked up to you. She crashed her lips onto yours. You were stunned but quickly pushed her away.

"Ry-Ryujin what are you doing?"

"I'm just giving you your reward. Is something wrong?"

"Ryujin I can't do this."

You quickly left the room leaving Ryujin alone.

"What's wrong with him?" Ryujin thought to herself.

Ryujin looked around your house. She found some of your clothes and changed into them. She went outside and made her way back to Yeji and Chuu. "If anyone knows about Y/N it's probably those two." Ryujin thought to herself.

Ryujin finally made her way there. Yeji and Chuu looked at her confused wondering why she was even there.

"Why are you back here?"

"Do any of you know about Y/N's past?"

"Where is this coming from?"

"I tried to kiss him but he declined. When he left he looked as if he was sad about something."

Yeji looked at Chuu wondering if she should tell her.

"Look this is a matter of Y/N's business. I don't think we should speak about his personal matters. If you want to know more than you should ask him."

As Ryujin was walking away Chuu yelled at her "If you ask about it please be gentle with him!"

Ryujin sighed and went back to your house.

When she got back she saw you. You looked panicked.

"Oh thank goodness you showed up. Where were you?!"

"I just wanted to go out for some fresh air."

"Look Ryujin you can't be going out. People won't recognize you and be suspicious."

"That's why I wore your clothes."

You sat down on the floor exhausted.

"Just don't sneak out again."

"H-hey Y/N."

"Yeah?"

"Why did you push me away when I kissed you?"

You didn't want to tell her. But something told you that you should.

"It was a long time ago..."

You told Ryujin about your wife. You told her how you met her, and how you were both in love with each other. However one day when the kingdom was attacked by barbarians she was one of the people that was killed in the attack. Ever since you haven't been able to fall in love with another person.

"I'm so sorry Y/N I didn't know."

"It's fine, it was a long time ago anyways."

"I'm sure she would be proud of the person you became."

"Thanks"

The room was filled with silence. Neither wanted to speak up as it felt weird to speak after you just told her about your past.

"Look Y/N I have no right to tell you this, but you need to move on. Life goes on and you shouldn't feel afraid of being in another relationship over one bad experience."

You thought about what Ryujin said. You didn't want to disrespect your dead wife by dating another woman.

"Don't be afraid I only want what's best for you." The final words you ever heard from your wife Hanni played in your head.

You started crying unable to bear the emotions you had bottled up for so long. Ryujin went to you and embraced you.

"Go ahead let it all out." Ryujin said as you cried on her.

You cried letting your tears fall on Ryujin. You only told Yeji and Chuu. But they could only do so much. The pain of your Hanni's death always bottled inside you.

Eventually you calmed down. Wiping your tears away you looked at Ryujin.

"Ryujin, I have the same feelings being with you as I did with my wife." You told her before you gently put your lips on hers.

Ryujin kissed you back. Both of you made love with each other. You were both very gentle as to not harm the other. You slowly worked on taking off Ryujin's shirt. Once you saw her beautiful breasts it made your cock hard.

"Do you want me to help you Y/N?"

You nodded and Ryujin started to take off your pants. Once they were off she put your hard cock in between her soft breasts. Moving them up and down. It made you go crazy. Ryujin spit on your cock to help make it nice and slippery.

All of this made you lose focus of everything around you. You couldn't hold back any longer. You pushed Ryujin to the floor and started to align your cock to her wet pussy. Shoving it deep inside of her hitting her deepest points, making Ryujin loudly moaned. You started to pinch her nipples and started thrusting in her.

Ryujin was being overstimulated as she felt herself on the brink of release.

"Y/N I'm cumming!"

Ryujin squirted all over your cock but you didn't stop.

"Stop Y/N I'm sensitive!" but her plea went in one ear and out the other. It only fueled your drive to continue going deep in. The thought of ruining a princess was still clouding your mind.

Suddenly Ryujin wrapped her legs around you and pulled you in closer. You weren't complaining though. Going in and out again, and again, and again Ryujin kept squirting on your cock. But your persisted bent on reaching your own orgasm.

As you felt yourself about to cum you grabbed Ryujin's breasts that fit so perfectly in your hands. Squeezing them as you unloaded inside of her. The princess was sweaty and oozing out a mix of both your cum and hers.

"You're so addicting Ryu."

Ryujin got on top of you and you thrusted up.

"Wrong hole Y/N!"

"Sorry!"

This time you shoved your cock into her pussy. Ryujin started bouncing on your cock. Your hands found their way to her ass. Giving it a hard squeeze eliciting more moaning from the princess.

"More! More! Ahh Y/N~"

"What a horney princess. You're so noisy."

"Give me more Y/N I don't want your love I want your cum."

You gave her just that. Cumming inside of the princess painting her pussy with all your thick semen.

You both laid on the ground exhausted until suddenly the door to your house was broken down.

Soldiers came rushing in and detained you both. You didn't have time to react as you were quickly knocked out and lost consciousness.

You woke up, you tried getting up but felt chains tying your feet and arms to the bed.

"Answer our questions and your sentencing will be lighter."

You recognized that voice.

"General Jung Ho-seok (J-Hope)? Why are you-"

"Zip it traitor. If we got to you any later the world could have ended. Now you better have a damn good reason for not only not slaying the princess, but also inviting her into our kingdom and having sex with her." He sounded furious. You and general Ho-seok were friends. You both always hung out together and got to know each other very well. But this was the very first time you ever heard him so mad.

"It's not what you think she isn't dangerous!"

"Oh don't tell me you fell for her dirty tricks Y/N what did the king tell you? He told you to not trust a single word she says. Your a traitor now you'll both be publicly executed first thing tomorrow morning."

Ho-seok got up and started leaving.

"Wait where is Ryu- I mean the princess!"

"As if I would tell you that!"

He left leaving you alone tied to the bed in your cell.

Execution Day

You had a hard time falling asleep. But who could blame you, you were about to be executed. 5 royal guards came to your cell. They freed you from the chains and escorted you outside.

You made it outside and you saw 2 guillotines. Ryujin was already in one. They put you into the one next to hers.

The king suddenly came on stage and started giving a speech. You didn't pay attention. You were more focused on how the knights found out about Ryujin. Did Yeji and Chuu sell you out? Did someone see Ryujin while she went outside and reported her?

Looking around the crowd you saw Yeji and Chuu both looking at you with a certain look. You could tell they were the ones who sold you out. "Those fucking traitors." you thought.

"And now commence the execution!"

When you heard the king say those words you were pulled out of your train of thought. You heard the guillotine next to you cut something. You were horrified as you saw Ryujin's head fall and roll on the floor. But you didn't have to process this as suddenly you lost consciousness. Everything went dark and you died.

???

You're on a path in the woods. And at the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a princess. You're here to slay her. If you don't, it will be the end of the world.

"W-wait didn't I just live this? Was that a dream?" You looked around, you couldn't believe it . Was that a dream? Was this life giving you a second chance?

You ran up the path and saw the cabin. It was different this time though. It was in shambles .... broken. You ignored it and ran in the basement. You had to see if Ryujin was alive.

Opening the door to the basement you noticed how dark it was. You made your way downstairs to see a skeleton. You were horrified until you suddenly felt something cold touch your back.

You turned around and saw her ... it was Ryujin.

Except

It was her ghost.

"Wh- what just what are you?"

"Y/N I'm so glad you could make it back!"

"Why are you a ghost?"

"Does it matter?"

Unsure of why you were reborn or why Ryujin was a ghost. You knew that you had to turn Ryujin into a human again and get your revenge on those traitors.

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

Slay the princess is such a good game. Seriously if you haven't played it you should.

In case anyone is wondering this story isn't taken from the game. Only the intro sequence was. :p

Also I know this is horrible timing. Another author released a smut story that also had a princess Ryujin thing I just want to make it clear I didn't steal it!!! I swear I've had this in my drafts for weeks now!

[pomefioredove]

Hiya! Hope you're doing okay, and take it easy if you haven't been!

For the flirty prompts starters list, could you maybe do: "Stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you." with Vil? I think it'd be a good one

Thanks!

(I hope you have fun writing this if you do! No biggie if you don't or if someone else already asked!)

GIGGLING SO MUCH

summary: "stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you" type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, Vil experiencing cuteness aggression.jpg, not proofread a part of this event

Vil considers himself to be an eloquent man.

After all, how one speaks is just as important as how one carries themselves, and every last inch of him, from his looks to his body language to his words, have been refined to perfection. Each a golden thread in the dazzling tapestry that is Vil Schoenheit.

And yet, despite that, he still can't seem to find a way to describe you.

Frustrating is not quite right. Epel is frustrating. Those first years you insist on spending your precious time with are frustrating. But you...

You are not annoying, nor are you incompetent. His usual vocabulary for the students of NRC is useless when it comes to you.

...And different is too vague.

Vil just seems to forget what to do with his hands when you're around.

You look so soft in the golden afternoon light of the lounge, which is distracting enough as it is. Now you're giggling in the way you do, and he can't concentrate, and... what was he doing, again?

"Stop that," he says, plainly, not looking up from the textbook he'd been reading. Or trying to, anyway. He'd lost his place some time ago.

You make this... sound, this confused little hum, and he pictures you tilting your head to the side like a puppy. Sevens, you're just so...

He huffs. "I said, stop,"

"Stop what?"

Clueless little thing. Vil sighs, finding it within himself to make eye contact. He'd given up on finishing this assignment early, anyway.

"You know what,"

You stare back, unblinking. Are you really so oblivious? No, there's no way you aren't doing this on purpose, whatever it is, just to get on his nerves. Did those friends of yours put you up to this?

He should scold you. He invited you to study with him, a luxury which many would pay millions for, and here you are, being...

Ugh. He still can't think of the right word.

"Am I being too loud?" you ask, a confused lilt in your voice.

Sevens, you are so dense, he wants to just grab you and squeeze you like a stress ball until a thought comes out of that empty head.

The thought of that is no help. If anything, it just bothers him more.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. Are you really not doing this on purpose? "No. You're distracting me,"

"Oh... sorry,"

...In such a soft, meek little tone, like you really feel bad about it, looking up at him with those eyes of yours... ugh. He wants to bite you, squeeze you in his arms until this overwhelming, restless feeling passes. You're so...

"It's... fine," Vil relents. "I don't think I would've gotten much done today, anyway."

You actually tilt your head to the side this time, worsening his condition. "Something on your mind?"

Sevens, what are you doing to him? He can't sit still. He pictures himself reaching across the table to pinch your cheeks, to kiss that sweet, worried expression off your face. The effect you have...

And you're not even doing anything!

"No," he says, his voice strained with the weight of the lie. "Just burnout. It's a busy time of year for me."

You seem to take that as a cue, standing from your seat with wide eyes and holding out a hand, much to his chagrin.

"You should be resting, then. Overworking yourself will only make things worse. Come on, let's go back,"

Such a determined expression on that pretty face of yours. There's just something about how you respond so innocently, so intent on caring for him, you're...

You're so...

Vil feels his heart drop. Oh, Sevens. That's the word.

You're so cute.

"Stop that," he snaps. He can feel his face warming. "This is the last time I'll ask."

A little flash of annoyance crosses your face at his dismissal. How adorable...

"Stop what?" You repeat.

Even your scoff is cute. His face feels hot. He can handle beautiful. Gorgeous, pretty, sexy, even, But not cute. And now he's getting himself all worked up over it, and you're being so sweet, and...

"Stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you!"

Nothing has ever had such an effect on him before.

After all, it would take something incredible to fluster Vil- and here he is, blurting out every thought he has, blushing like a schoolgirl as he realizes what just came out of his mouth.

Vil Schoenheit, suddenly terrified of being rejected. It was as if he'd woken up in a parallel universe.

Or died, and went to his own personal Hell.

The shock slowly wears off your face, and you... laugh.

You laugh.

"You're very forward,"

"I'll take that as a compliment, and not the way you meant it," he mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. "Though I'm failing to find what's so amusing."

You move around the table to sit next to him, eyes gleaming. "How would you like me to react, then?"

Vil stares back. Was that... flirtation? Perhaps you're not so oblivious, after all...

But still cute.

Still very cute.

He sighs, though there's a smile playing at his lips now. "Save me the embarrassment of being rejected,"

"Hmm... I suppose that can be arranged,"

And with that, he cups your face in his hands and draws you in for that kiss.

[jobean12-blog]

Burn for You

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Even though you know Marcus would protect you with his very last breath you still want to learn to defend yourself but what will your husband say when you ask him to teach you?

Author's Note: Just another little story in our happy world where everyone is on the same side and friends haha. This is a stand alone story that I couldn't resist after seeing the new snippets from the movie- and then Pedro himself posts the sword gif and I died all over again. How dare he? It's so hot🔥🫠Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: fun and flirty and tense, he's always soft and perfect, semi public sex, smut, they just can't get enough of each other.

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The gold trimmed linen falls over his bare skin, and you smooth your hands down his chest to straighten it.

“When are you going to teach me how to wield a sword General?”

You reach for the fascia, gently placing it over his leg before starting to secure it. When his silence drags on you look up from your kneeling position.

“Are you trying to think of some filthy thing to say right now?” you tease. “I am on my knees.”

The corner of his mouth lifts into a mischievous smirk.

“If I didn’t know how much you loved being in that position, I might have something more to say…”

“But…” you finish for him as you slowly slide up his body and meet his eyes.

“Your question has surprised me.”

You take his cuirass and press it to his chest with more force than is necessary.

“And why is that husband?” you ask through clenched teeth.

As you begin to tug on the leather strings at his sides he grabs both your wrists, grasping them in one hand and pulling you against his chest, while the fingers of his other press under your chin and hold your gaze to his.

“You think I do not believe you capable?” he asks with his brows drawn in.

“Why else would you not teach me?” you huff.

“Like my heart, body and soul, you have my sword until my last breath and forever after,” he whispers against your lips.

Your expression softens and you press your fingertips to his jaw, delicately tracing the scar just above the dark hair that lines his cheek.

“I know Marcus…”

“But…” he says, echoing your earlier sentiment.

“I wish to learn. I am strong. And I want to be able to defend myself.”

He remains quiet still, releasing your wrists and smoothing his calloused fingers along the curve of your shoulder.

“I could ask Lucius instead…” you start to muse.

“You will not,” he growls.

“He may not have the same reservations you have…whatever they may be.”

Your tone is cheeky as you press yourself closer to him, dancing your fingers down his side to give the leather straps of his cuirass a sharp tug.

He grunts lightly before his lips turn up into a smile.

“As you wish my love,” he murmurs. “I will teach you to wield a weapon.”

“Excellent,” you whisper, loosening your grip and reaching for the Manica to adorn his forearms.

He stops you with a firm hand and you raise a brow.

“On one condition…”

“And what is that?” you ask.

“You will train with me and only me. No other will come near you, touch you.”

“Of course,” you say with a lift of your chin. “Only you.”

He dips his head, the tip of his nose brushing yours as he presses you against his body.

“How much time do we have?” he mumbles, kissing you, chaste and soft.

He pulls back, licks his lips, and moves forward again, moaning softly against your mouth.

“Marcus,” you chide but it’s lacking vigor, coming out breathier and desperate.

When his hips rock you feel him, hard and ready and it’s like someone lights a match inside your chest and you curl your fingers into the edges of his cuirass and push him back toward the wall.

The draped fabric at your waist falls open and you gasp as cool air finds your skin where you’re wet and aching.

His roughened palm slides down your stomach and his fingers slip between your legs.

“Want to taste this,” he whispers, dragging the tip of his fingers in and out.

“Ah General Acacius. So good of you to grace us with your presence,” Lucius jokes, his eyes twinkling.

The other men stifle their laughter, clearing throats and shuffling feet when Marcus glares at them menacingly.

You step out from behind Marcus and smile at Lucius, whose surprised expression quickly transforms into one of mischief.

“Do we have a new trainee today General?” Lucius asks with a smirk.

Marcus ignores him and deftly twirls the sword between his fingers as he walks along the row of gladiators.

“My wife…, he begins, “wishes to learn how to fight.”

You can see that the men are trying to restrain their shock, and you meet each of their gazes, holding your head high and your shoulders poised.

“You will not touch her or even come near her,” he continues. “She will train with me and only me.”

Marcus turns his covetous eyes to you, dragging them over every inch of your skin that glistens under the warm sun.

With a hard swallow he gets into position and instructs the men on what to practice, giving Lucius control of the group so he can work with you.

“That will keep them busy for now,” he says quietly as he moves toward you, circling.

He stops behind you, pressing his chest to your back and slowly sliding his hand down from your shoulder to your wrist. Despite the heat, goosebumps crawl along your skin, and you feel his smile at your neck.

“Focus my beloved,” he murmurs. “You will not win any fights if you are distracted.”

The urge to throw your elbow back and into his side is strong but you refrain and strengthen your wrist.

He places the sword in your hand and maneuvers your fingers into the right position, keeping his hand over yours as he shows you the proper grip.

Every word of command is whispered into your ear and every touch of his hand is both soft and firm. Even with his impressive size and strength, he moves lithely, easily disarming you at every turn.

It frustrates you, motivates you but more than anything, and to your utter exasperation, it arouses you.

“Marcus.” You call his name while in a particularly precarious position and he quickly stands and takes you with him, his gaze concerned as it sweeps over your body.

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

“No,” you say with a dismissive wave of your hand.

He waits for you to elaborate and you step closer. “Perhaps you should work with the men now. I think Lucius bores them.”

His lips tilt upward at your teasing, but he continues to study you carefully.

“Do you need a break then?”

“Perhaps I can work on my stance with Lucius,” you suggest.

His eyes narrow. “We made a deal.”

“I know,” you tell him with a quiet sigh.

Then with resignation you throw back your shoulders and get into position. “I’m ready to continue.”

His body heat at your back sends another wave of tension through your body and when his calloused fingertips ghost along your thigh to fix its position you have to fight back a gasp.

“Relax your muscles,” he says as he presses on your shoulders and lower back.

You let out a slow exhale and try to focus on his direction instead of his touch, but the way his voice is low and deep in your ear drags you right back to your lascivious thoughts.

When he’s satisfied with your positioning he moves in front of you, twirling his sword tauntingly and though his forearms are hidden under the armor adorning his wrists you know the muscles flex and shift enticingly.

He beckons to you, and you advance, remembering the foot work well and making good use of your sword.

But before you can make any real progress he has you on your back and beneath him, the sandy dirt rising and floating around your head as you stare up into his face.

“You are doing well,” he assures you, sensing your frustration. “Remember, it is only your first day.”

Sweat coats his brow and you watch a droplet roll down his temple and along the line of his beard. It settles on his upper lip and the desire to lean up and kiss him is overwhelming. His scent surrounds you, sweat and leather, and his touch burns.

“Marcus,” you breathe out.

“My love,” he answers, pushing up and offering you a hand.

You crash into his chest, your eyes dropping to his mouth and your lips parting. “I need you.”

It takes him only a split second to realize the meaning of your words and his head dips to your ear, his growl full of promise.

“Do you need me to fill you my love?”

You barely get your words of affirmation out when he grabs your hand and pulls you away from the training circle.

“Lucius, you can finish off the training for today. I have to see…to my wife.”

Your quarters are too far away, and you tell him so, letting him lead you to an underground alcove in the basilica nearby.

He kisses you until your back hits the cold stone wall and you can feel every inch of armor and cloth that separates your bodies.

His hands grip your face, thumbs pressing urgently into your skin as he kisses you until you’re lightheaded.

Few rays of sunlight pierce the recesses below and you’re bathed in a soft darkness, hidden, but with the sounds of the world going on right above you.

It reminds you that there are other people on this Earth beyond his kisses, his frantic hands, and the way he can’t seem to get you close enough.

Your armor becomes untied, and you reach under his, tugging at whatever you can find to loosen it. Cloth and linen floats to your feet and his fingers skim the curve of your waist, dipping between your legs.

“Fingers Marcus,” you gasp.

He swears, two fingers sliding deep.

Your hips rock into his hand and you hold onto his broad shoulders, on the edge of something that starts in your stomach and slips up along your spine.

You cry out, too loud and breathing so heavy you might pass out.

“I’m so close Marcus,” you whisper. “I want you inside me.”

His eyes lift from between your legs, and you take him in; messy curls, fallen over his damp forehead and sticking to it, his body shining with a light sheen of sweat and dust clinging to his skin.

You almost come at the sight of him. He feels you tighten around his fingers and pulls them free with another curse.

His knee parts your legs and you feel the head of his cock as it slides through you and you’re so wet that with just the smallest push forward he starts to slip inside.

With a grunt, he tucks his head into your neck, takes deep, steadying breaths.

“I need a moment,” he murmurs and holds your hips still.

He straightens, reaching a hand over your shoulder to brace it on the stone wall.

“You feel too good,” he whispers, pulling out and pushing back in slowly. “Too perfect.”

He builds a rhythm, hips rocking against yours, the sound of his armor thudding into yours as he fucks you.

His hand reaches up, holds your face as his thumb traces your lips, the taste of you lingering on his fingers.

“I want to watch you come,” he says, dark eyes moving across your face.

You wrap your arms around his neck, the muscles strained and tight with his restraint, pulling him harder to you.

“Say it,” he growls.

“I want it harder.”

His lips brush yours and he nibbles the lower one, tugging and then soothing with his tongue.

“And…?” he asks, knowing there’s more you want to say. More that you need.

“I want someone to hear us. I want them to know how good you feel.”

He grunts and grips your waist tightly before he starts slamming hard and slick into you.

Voices echo above, the sounds of feet and horse hooves growing louder.

“More Marcus,” you cry out.

You feel so full and stretched and the tight feeling in your stomach grows warmer and hotter until your head falls back against the stone, and you moan out his name as you come.

He follows right after, his movements becoming jagged and frantic before finally stilling with a muffled groan into your skin.

You lean into him, catching your breath and letting your fingers wander over the dips and curves of muscle in his back.

He lifts his head and immediately searches for your mouth, sealing his lips to yours.

When he pulls back his eyes are ablaze, and a smile pulls at his lips.

“What?” you ask, trembling when his fingertips skim along your collarbone, strong but gentle.

They ghost higher, to the hollow of your throat where your pulse beats wildly still, before closing lightly around your neck.

Your breath hitches.

“Was it the fighting that aroused you so?” he asks, pressing his thumb under your chin while he still holds your neck. “Or…?”

You swallow and lick your lips.

“You know what it was General,” you whisper.

“I want to hear you say it.”

He’s still inside you and he starts to thicken, the throb making your eyelashes flutter along your cheeks.

“You, General. It is you. Always you that fills me with an unquenchable need.”

“Then it is a good thing my hunger for you will never be sated,” he whispers as he begins to slowly rock his hips.

[quantum1mmortality]

Im so glad you're writing for Curly bc I'm so obsessed with him rn!! May I suggest (if you haven't done them already) some soft/fluffy post burn hcs? Like finally seing him again after a long drive to the hospital, mentally preparing yourself for what he might look like. Curly being so afraid about how you'd react, and just breaking down when you let out an "oh, Curly :(" and softly place a hand on his cheek, so worried that you might hurt him by accident that it's hardly even a touch at all. Curly leaning his cheek into your palm, having been so scared to see you and now so desperate for your touch.

Life returning to a new normal after a while, prosthetics and PT, skin grafts, so on. Lying in bed with him and being so relived and happy when he gets a spark of mischief like he used to and tries to tickle or play wrestle with you. Him quietly asking questions when the laughter dies down. if you missed his lips, or the blond hair you loved so much that now hardly grew at all. Reassuring him that it didn't matter what he looked like, or what he could and could not do anymore. He's still your curly.

Sorry this turned out so long 😭 I can't get him out of my head!

I LOVE what you wrote 🙏🙏 I'll be going off of these, taking bits and pieces of your hcs and then putting them in here. Overall just gonna be fluffy post crash Curly hcs :)

Of topic, but the way some people in this fandom treat post crash curly makes me nauseous. Finding out that some of you wouldn't treat him like I would makes me wanna cry. Maybe I'm too empathetic or maybe I'm a baby back bitch, either way, I'd care for this man so much. Y'all don't understand how much I love him.

Tw/cw; none!! One curse word but that's literally it (I think)

Not proofread

Extremely sensitive to touch for the first few weeks. I feel as though curly would be in incredible pain, but would try his best to keep your hands touching his cheeks, face, body in general. He'd even go as far as to whimper at how bad it hurt, yet still enduring it because he needed to know you still loved him.

He'd be so happy to see you anytime you were around. Just like pre crash, but it was more special. It got to the point where you would take off work for weeks at a time just to be with him, just so you could see him happy.

After the first two months of agonizing pain, you'd start touching him more. Not sexual, obviously, but just getting more physically affectionate. You'd be able to hug and kiss him goodbye, and hold on to his arm as you talked with him.

Speaking of talking, he wouldn't be able to, so you would talk for him. Basically telling him something, then answering any questions he may or may not have. You've known him long enough, you know how he'd react and question things, so it was practically a no brainer for you.

Now that he doesn't feel as much pain as he used to from your touches, you'd begin sleeping with him. NOT SEXUAL!!! Just cuddling up next to him in the hospital bed, laying your head on his shoulders and kissing him goodnight. Just like how you used to.

Eventually he'd start getting prosthetics, and aside from the physical therapy he's usually getting, you'd bring board games and playing cards so he could learn to use his new hands while still spending time with you.

Curly used to kick your ass in uno and honestly he still does. The trembling in his hands would slowly go away over time, and you were helping him with that much more than his physical therapist was; because at least he wanted to actually be around you.

After months and months, he'd finally be ready to take home. New prosthetics and a bunch of skin graft surgeries later, he's in good condition again. Not perfect in his eyes, but it is in yours.

He wouldn't be able to work, but Pony Express sends him checks as if he was. He gets enough from them, you could quit your job, but you don't want to be dependent on them. So you keep working.

Getting home from work is your favorite part of the day, having Curly be so happy to see you makes everything so worth it.

Your home life goes back to normal with a few exceptions, but nothing too drastic. Curly being in a wheelchair and still not being able to speak, but it's nothing you can't handle. You love him, you're willing to make sacrifices. He'd do the same for you, and you know that.

Bonus content; if you guys were married before the crash, once he got his prosthetic hands, he'd have you help him make a little beaded necklace for his ring to go on; that way he could still wear it :) he'd never take the necklace off once it's done

A/N; I've been pretty busy recently so sorry for the delay on requests; I have a lot of ideas for them though so hopefully they'll be out soon