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mtheonott · 2 days ago

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Are you serious? Not kidding?

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

⌗ raw!reader, comf, declaration of love, drunk!TheodoreNott, party, jokes and banter, flirt

word count: 2.2k

note: I'm tired of writing this... but it seemed to work out fine.

Theodore, the smartest student at Hogwarts, stood at the classroom door, looking at the large and thick walls that had been cracked for a long time. The guy didn't like to think about time, it drove him crazy. He tried to look at his time at Hogwarts from a more positive perspective, even though he was doing poorly.

The Slytherin noticed a human approaching out of the corner of his eye and turned around, "Ah... you're awake. I thought you were dead, sleeping beauty.", He grinned, keeping his hands on his hips.

A frail figure in a blue uniform was walking towards the guy along the empty corridor, clicking her heel, which was unforgivable for the Ravenclaw prefect. But we'll miss it. When you heard the greeting, you rolled your eyes in annoyance. A new day is a new batch of jokes and tricks. Nott just giggled at your reaction, waved at you and turned his head towards the classroom.

"Zabini suggested a drink after dinner. Are you with us?", He knew that you have a good relationship with a nice alcoholic. Standing next to him, you also looked at the closed doors. Transfiguration lesson. You crossed your arms over your chest and confidently stated, "I'll be busy." It is quite expected that a person like you will have things to do. But the guy's grin made it clear to you that he had come up with an interesting joke again.

"What's up? You didn't tell me. Have you found another boy who will make fun of you in the evenings?" You just sighed a little, "You're enough for me, nerd. I'm going to play chess with Potter."

Nott clicked his tongue, frowning. What an abomination, "Since when do you play chess? Are you trying to get closer to that ideal for half of Hogwarts?" You just giggled, slightly covering your mouth.

You've been in love with this Slytherin since freshman year and haven't looked at the other candidates. He is warmth and comfort. Calmness. Even though you don't want to admit it.

There was an orange landscape in the courtyard, which both Theodore and you liked, so your couple was in a better mood than the others.

"He offered, and I was just free. Nothing special," you said, looking a little more confident. Nott scratched his head, looking at his shoes, "You could have hung out with us then.", the guy sighed, "Okay. Come on, sleeping beauty."

He took your arm and led you to class. He took your arm. Took your arm for the first time. Your heart started pounding, literally trying to jump out of your chest. You followed him obediently, no matter where. All your thoughts were occupied by the fact that he was holding your hand.

The guy entered the office, which was filled with students. They were all waiting for the professor and watching another argument between a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw, not noticing Theo and you.

Nott came over to your desk, leading you along, "Hey?" he said, bringing you back to reality. You just looked at him absently and nodded. What for? You don't know. "I'm sorry, I was thinking."

The guy grinned, leaning towards you and resting his hands on the table, "Are you fantasizing about me? Baby, I can make all your dirty fantasies come true, just ask." He grinned and went to his friends, leaving you. You rolled your eyes and looked away. Idiot.

The girls have already taken you into their company, telling you about the latest gossip, and you were trying to distract yourself from thoughts of Slytherin. Just for a minute.

────────────────.✦

Basically, the day went as usual: boring lessons, Tarot cards (jokingly) at breaks, discussion of Daphne's outfit for the ball and Nott. Theodore Nott has taken literally every second of your time. Not just thoughts. The guy showed up at every break, at every meal, and at every free minute. It's fun for him. Maybe for you too.

In the evening, when Potter reported on important matters with "urgent questions," you still decided to go to Zabini. Why not?

Entering a noisy room, you waved to a familiar bunch of guys at the door, hugged your friends and only glanced at Zabini, who had already found a girlfriend for the evening. You'll say hello to him later. The main thing is different: Nott. He noticed you too and immediately stood up, inviting you to sit next to him, "Little witch, sit down.... It's good to see you."

Of course, sitting down with him is a bad idea. What if the jokes get to a physical level? Although, it's kind of good... nonsense. Okay, calm down. You sat down next to him, nodding at his greeting, "Potter is busy, I decided to stop by."

"Oh, so our hero is busy? It's a nuisance. Okay, here, ah... firewhisky and like... that’s all..." Nott looked thoughtfully at the table, remembering what else he could offer. Unable to think of anything, he turned to you and smiled. "You always have me, you can eat and drink me."

You raised an eyebrow and squinted in his direction, "Sorry, I'm on a diet. I prefer not to eat after 6"

The guy first blinked, trying to figure out your joke, and then grinned and nodded, "Yes, yes, I understand… I just, well..." He lazily pointed at a couple of bottles of alcohol. They were pointlessly empty on the table, almost shouting: "Nott is drunk out of his mind."

You nodded in disappointment, "Every time you're not in class, you're fucking around." Theo smiled brightly, closed his eyes and nodded confidently. Like a dog, which is not like him during lessons and Quidditch practice. "That's right. That's why I'm given a life here."

Sighing, you were about to get up, leaving the drunk guy, so as not to get any problems. You never know. But he stopped you by first pulling you by the arm, and then holding you by the shoulders with both hands. Nott made fake sad eyes and almost whimpered, "Heeeeey... stay with me, at least for a couple of minutes. You're always leaving in my dreams, and now..."

In dreams? What kind of nonsense is this? You tilted your head to the side and frowned, "Did you dream about me? What the..." Theo didn't let you finish. He put his finger on your lip, silencing you and leaned in, "It's a secret. It's better not to tell anyone that I have dreams at all. Suddenly, someone will get into my head..." he whispered, and then looked around. The guy met her gaze again and continued, "I heard someone here can do this."

Your surprised eyes slowly became irritated, "Nott, this is a story for children. Are you nuts?" The Slytherin laid his head on your shoulder, nuzzling your collarbone. Your ears turned slightly red, which made you want to push him away so that no one would notice. But you didn't do it.

The guy said sleepily, "Did you know that you smell great? Patchouli, cedar leaves, bergamot... it smells like autumn." Your heart skipped a beat. Compliments like "Cool lipstick," "Wow, great styling," or "Cute boots." had no effect on you. But this description of your scent... Nott hugged you around the waist, breathing heavily, "You're right. I must be crazy to be in love with..." but he couldn't finish.

Blaze ruffled his hair, silencing him with his abrupt arrival and smiled happily at you, which made you feel calmer, "Hey! Did you come anyway? I see that the idiot is already drunk... keep an eye on him, and I'll leave with... uh... in short, with the pretty Gryffindor. Don't be bored."

You didn't even have time to greet him, let alone respond to his request. He disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone on that couch again. More precisely, there were people here... but they are not felt. Absolutely.

Nott looked out into the crowd, trying to spot his friend, but to no avail. Then he turned to you and grinned, drunkenly rather than cockily, "Would you sleep with Zabini?"

The question has brought you to a standstill. You stared at his alcohol-reddened face and blinked a little, "Well... you know, such questions shouldn't be asked. But I would rather answer no than yes." Theo nodded and rested his head on your shoulder again, which made your heart beat faster again, "And with me? Would you sleep with me, Y/n?" he muttered, closing his eyes.

You blushed again and swallowed, "You know... I'm not going to answer that question. This is unethical and uncivilized, Theodore Nott. "His hands were resting calmly, without movement, on your waist. He nodded again and sighed, "But I would with such a beauty." You are used to skipping such comments, it's not the first time you hear. But now your eyes were darting in different directions, nervously and touchily. You don't even understand why you're offended. Because he's drunk and says things like that? Maybe.

"Okay, Theo, let's go for a walk. Let's try to slow down the negative effects of alcohol's toxic substances on your brain." You gently helped him up, still holding him in your arms. Not because you wanted to, but because he wouldn't let you go. When you straightened up, he finally released you from his grip. Surprisingly, his drunken state still allowed him to walk and stand, but you still helped him get out of the noisy space.

The Slytherin common room was cold and empty. You quietly went out into the hallway of Hogwarts, holding his hand. Nott didn't take his eyes off you, smiling drunkenly. After looking around, you walked on, wandering through the already night-time corridors of the school. He was still holding your hand, now looking at the floor. The silence was pleasant rather than embarrassing. Quiet footsteps, rustling of clothes, faint wind and sighs. Nothing more.

After going out to Ravenclaw Tower, you went to the window overlooking the lake. The clean air allowed you to think clearly again. Theo leaned against the wall, looking up at the night sky, "Sorry about tonight. I... well..."

"You'll sober up and apologize, Nott. There's no need to annoy me again." you replied, still looking at the lake. His gaze fixed on you and he grinned, "That's what I like about you. So serious. Like you are ready to kill… This little walk brought me back to my senses a little bit, don't worry. Accept my apologies."

You still looked at him and nodded, "Okay then, nerd, I forgive you."

Theo leaned over to you, smiling a little brighter, "So you're ready to forgive me? Are you not indifferent to me?"

Raising an eyebrow, you looked at him in surprise, "You seem smart, but the train of thought is not logical... do you want me to feel something for you so much?"

The smile faded from his face and he nodded with a serious expression, "Yes. Why not?"

You shook your head and turned back to the lake. It stood out from everything else, which caught your attention. Like Nott.

The guy touched your cheek, silently forcing you to look at him, which you did. He bent down a little more and said, "Even though I'm drunk, but when I talk about love, nothing affects the words. I want you to feel something for me. Because I am. I... just, hm..." This time, he let go of his gaze. Theo stared at the floor, trying to find the right words.

You stared at him dumbfounded, trying to digest the words he said. Then you swallowed and replied uncertainly, "Well, I... feel... something." He looked up and stared at you hopefully, "Yes? You're not kidding? Fuck, I'm drunk, for sure..." The guy ran his hand over his face and looked at you through his fingers, "Are you sure you said that? Are you serious? Not kidding?"

You chuckled softly and shook your head, "Not kidding." Nott immediately pulled you by the waist, eagerly biting into your lips. It was as if he had turned one of his million bedtime fantasies into reality. You were stunned, but you accepted the kiss by hugging his neck.

The moonlight was spying on this moment, illuminating your faces. No, although you needed the kiss so much, it was rather gentle, warming you on this autumn night.

Soon you broke away from each other. Nott leaned back to look into your eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't know... I don't remember why anymore. But I'm sorry." You nodded, also not knowing what he was apologizing for, "Okay. Anyway, I forgive you, nerd. You know... you have an insanely long tongue. Shut up already." You grabbed him by the collar of his black shirt and pulled him back for a hotter kiss.

You spent the rest of the evening walking around Hogwarts. Silently and contentedly. The wind contrasted with the warmth of his hands, leaving a pleasant feeling, like brownies with ice cream. And you don't need anything more. You will remember this moment for the rest of your life.

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 2 days ago

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Heart on a Chain (Scrooge!Aemond x Reader)

Christmas day and a recently rediscovered ring bring unpleasant and unwanted memories.

Pairing: Ebenezer Scrooge-coded Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: Angst :(

Author's note: The guy that played young Scrooge at the Christmas Carol I went to today was hot and the way he carried himself reminded me of Aemond so... here we are. Wrote this in less than two hours lmao.

Heart on a Chain

Christmas Day.

For the past two years, Aemond had not given more than a passing thought to the holiday. That thought being annoyance at having to pay his employees a full day’s wages for no work.

It was just another day. He woke, read the papers while he ate, then went to the office. He balanced the books, double-checked the work of his clerks, and inspected the warehouse’s stock. He sat with his business partner and discussed new prospects.

Even now, Cole was telling him about a potential new partnership he’d identified. A newly founded firm, desperate for reputable clients, would be almost too easy to maneuver into a contract that would heavily favor Targaryen & Cole. Ordinarily, Aemond would be eager to sink his teeth into the prospect, but now…

Now, he could not focus on Cole’s words. He could not bear to look at the pages of figures strewn on the table before them. He couldn’t even remember the name of the new firm, or what it was they did.

His entire world had faded to the ring that sat in his pocket.

Dull, cheap gold set with a pathetically small cabochon – he didn’t remember what the stone was, just that it was vaguely red. It looked ridiculous against the fine gold chain he’d purchased. That was the reason it remained in his pocket, rather than around his neck, he told himself.

It certainly wasn’t because he was afraid to see it out in the open, to be reminded of the slender hand it had once graced and the woman it had belonged to.

He hadn’t thought of her in years. Had not let himself, from the moment the door closed behind her. The same door that now loomed behind Cole, where the dented brass bell swayed slightly from the draft, just as it had three Christmases past…

“Aemond?”

He held back a sigh. Why did she have to come now? He was busy, as he told her he would be. He did not want to be disturbed, as he also told her. He had even agreed to go to Christmas dinner at her parent’s house that evening to ensure she would not bother him during the day.

Yet, here she was.

“Yes, dearest?” he called as he climbed off the ladder. Best to be sweet now, to soothe whatever mood had taken her this time. If she came all the way down to Cornhill and made it past Cole in the office, she must be in quite the state.

Indeed, as she found him amongst the massive rows of shelves, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes shone with tears that sparkled with the reflection of his lamp. Still, she was beautiful. If only she would content herself with what he had to do to ensure the security of their life together.

She stopped, straightening her shoulders. Her furious blinking betrayed the fact that she was battling her tears to keep them from falling. “Aemond, we need to speak.”

“I assume there is something particular you wish to speak about?” He was distracted as he walked toward her, the label on one of the crates he passed catching his eye.

That order was supposed to be shipped out days ago. He’d dock Cargyll’s wages by half this week for allowing such a major error. The recipient of this shipment was very particular and would undoubtedly complain that his goods were late.

“We must discuss our agreement,” her voice, now bordering on shrill, reclaimed his attention.

What was there to discuss? He’d agreed to go to her house after he finished work at six, and… damn. When he pulled his watch from his waistcoat, he found it was already half-past seven. Still, dinner wouldn’t be served until eight. He had time. “I admit I’m running late, but with all the workers out for the holiday – ”

“Not about that agreement, Aemond. About our engagement.” A heavy stone settled in Aemond’s stomach, chill as ice. She continued, “I cannot help but feel that an idol has displaced me in your affections.”

The stone turned hot and rancid with anger. “And what is this idol, may I ask?”

“A golden one.” Her tears vanished, replaced with cold righteousness. “Wealth and power, and everything else your father denied you.”

“Is it a sin to seek security? To endeavor to escape the cruel grasp of poverty and helplessness?”

She came closer to him, setting a gloved hand on his arm. He had to resist the urge to pull away. “Your fear and resentment have overpowered your nobler aspirations,” she said softly. “Now, your only passion is gaining more and more, beyond what is necessary.”

Aemond took her hand, suppressing the urge to seize her shoulders and shake sense back into her. “Even if that were true, I am not changed toward you.”

To his horror, she pulled away, shaking her head.

“Dearest?”

She flinched as if the word struck her. “Our agreement was made long ago. When we were poor and in love and content to remain so.”

“I was a boy, then,” he scoffed.

“And I loved that boy!” She fell quiet for a moment, turning away from him when he reached for her. “But that boy is gone, and my heart aches for him. It is in his memory that I release you from our agreement.”

Until that moment, Aemond had nearly forgotten he had a heart. But her words shattered it, and pain wracked through his chest. Juvenile fear and distress took hold of him. He approached her, oblivious to her feeble attempts to move away, and took her in his arms. “Dearest, I do not understand. Have I ever sought release?”

“Not with words.”

“In what, then?”

She finally faced him again, and he knew he would never forget the horrible sight of her heartbreak and disdain – disdain for him. “In a changed nature and spirit. You do not look at me as you used to, Aemond. I used to feel beautiful when you looked at me, but now, I feel like a burden saddled upon you.”

“That is not true,” he begged.

“Tell me, honestly,” her gaze and voice steadied, even as tears spilled down her soft cheeks. “If you were to make the choice today, would you choose a dowerless girl?”

Aemond wanted to say no. But the world would not form. All he could say was, “You think not.”

The tension in her body vanished, her shoulders sagging and her head drooping. She looked up at him with despairing conviction. “With a full heart, for the love of who you once were, I release you.” She backed away from him, and his heart went with her. “May you be happy in the life you have chosen.”

She had only taken three steps away when he called her name, extending a hand to her.

But when she set her hand in his, he harshly pulled away.

He extended his hand once more. “My ring.”

It was her ring, he knew. It always was and always had been, even when he had forgotten about it. It was likely why, that night, he had thrown it carelessly into a dresser drawer to get it out of his sight. To forget the pain that had been contained within that strange, reddish stone.

But his maid had found it three days prior and given it to him, unleashing all that pain back into the heart-shaped hole in his chest. It was ruining him, that pain, clouding his mind and stealing away his better judgment.

“Aemond?” Cole’s voice was filled with annoyance. “Have your senses fled with the workers? What is wrong with you?”

Wrong? Nothing was wrong with him. Something was missing. She was missing. “Forgive me, Cole,” he said. “I must have eaten something odd. I’m afraid I am out of sorts.”

“Well, you’re no use like this. Go home. Come back all the earlier tomorrow, though!”

Aemond was already out the door, his coat only half-buttoned.

Home. He needed to go home, eat a hot meal, and go to bed early. Yes, a good rest would fix whatever had gone wrong inside him. He just needed to get home.

His feet didn’t take him home. They carried him to a place that he may once have called home but no longer. Equally traitorous, his hand raised in a fist to knock on the door he once would have entered without a second thought.

A cheering from beyond the door halted his movements, and Aemond moved to glance through the nearest window.

There she was. Just as radiant as he remembered. Even more so, for she smiled.

She smiled at the babe she held in her arms.

A babe who bore the same smile as its mother. But its eyes and hair were different. Those had been inherited not from its mother but from the father who stood behind the child and mother, looking on them both with unabashed adoration and pride.

Aemond had looked at her in much the same way, when he had been capable of feeling such things.

All the air left his chest. Had he ever been able to breathe? Perhaps he would die before he remembered how to. Part of him wanted to.

But somehow, he pulled enough air into his lungs to fuel his body as he walked across town to his own home. He ate his dinner, read the evening papers, and retreated to his bedroom. There, he readied himself for bed. Yes, a good night’s rest would cure him of this ailment.

He did not realize until he laid upon his bed that the cool metal of a chain rested against his skin.

If he could not bear his heart in his chest, he would wear it around his neck.

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acehazbin1 · 2 days ago

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“Court me.”

Note: Thank you for all your support on Chapter one, Tumblr and A03 have been very supportive!

Tw: no use of Y/n, hand in marriage, Caracalla being in love.

Chapter one

………………

She was tricky to find, he walked the same route every night at the same time yet it was like she had hid away from him. He didn’t know that she had taken a shift for a sick maid and now was back to her normal routine.

He spoke to his brother about a lady had enchanted him leaving out the fact that she was a maid. His brother was intrigued about this woman demanded that she must me found and rewarded. Caracalla agreed to a gesture of gratitude for her but he couldn’t decide which, flowers? No too simple. A game in her honour? Maybe a woman such as her wouldn’t take a liking towards violence. A ring? Yes, his ring, right off his finger.

He found himself wondering how to gift it to her, in a box explaining it was his or maybe pull it off his finger and hand it to her? But which one of his fingers, maybe she would like a sliver one instead? He wandered around the royal garden not noticing the maid tending to the roses.

She noticed him straight away, her eyes followed as he stared at the rings on his fingers. She was about to speak but felt a knot in her throat. He was drunk that night, surely he talk to countless of other servants about his woes. She was nothing special. Plus her uniform was covered in grass stains, no way to approach an Emperor.

“You there.” A voice called out, the maid turned around to see an unfamiliar guard. “Have you seen a maid who last week on the day of mars was working that very night?” The knight coughed up. She was confused, on the day of mars… wait she was working that night. Did she do something wrong? Was her friend in trouble for not being there.

“I’m sorry that was my doing, I was covering for the normal maid’s shift. If I did anything wrong, I accept the punishment.” She gracefully spoke but the guards looked more astonished that the word hasn’t gotten to her that Emperor Caracalla was looking for that woman. Well her. “You are mistaken, Emperor Caracalla has been wishing for your presence.”

Her eyes widened as the roses fell out her hand, the ones she was dethroning. Her mind was spinning, he requested for her? Did he want to make sure she didn’t tell anyone his secrets? Or worse did he want to get rid of her since she knew?

“Please come this way.” The knight spoke up as he gently took her wrist pulling her in the direction of where Caracalla walked. She almost felt his presence getting closer which each step, she followed the knight blindly just trying to take in that fact Caracalla wanted to see her. “My Emperor.” The knight bowed as he addressed him pulling the maid down with him. Caracalla turned around looking frustrated that the guard interrupted his line of thinking.

“What d-“ Caracalla harsh tone stopped suddenly, his eyes locked with the maid’s. It was the same once’s that persuaded his heart to open up with how calming they were. He nearly chocked on his breath, the knight let go of the maid’s wrist but the maid locked onto his hand. She was scared but after a reassuring tap, she let go.

“I’ve been looking for you ever night since we last spoken.” Caracalla’s voice was breathless. She didn’t dare walk closer to him keeping the distance as his eyes remained fixated on her. “Apologies, your highness-“ “Caracalla please,” The emperor interrupted. He wanted her to call her by his first name. Was this a joke? Did he want her to catch her off guard?

Her eyes scanned his face for anything other than the look of pure desperation for her approval, something she took note of. “Caracalla,” she stopped as the name sounded unfamiliar to her. “I wanted to apologise for my inappropriate behaviour, I was too intrusive on your personal matters.”

His heart nearly melted when she said his name for the first time, it felt so right on her lips. Normally he would hate when anyone would address him other than Emperor but this was different. He wanted her to find little nicknames out of his name, he wanted her to giggle it, to whisper it, to cry it and to scream it. His brain finally clicked what she said into effect after a long second so silence.

“Nonsense, I quite enjoy having your opinions on the matter. In fact I wanted to…” Caracalla looked at his hands, then her noticing there was no jewellery so he could not tell if she was a gold or sliver woman. He pulled off a sliver ring with a blue sapphire in the middle, it wasn’t really his taste but it complimented her. “I wanted to show you my gratitude for that night, you stayed with me. No many have.” He looked away for a second but came closer to put the ring on her finger.

“I-I don’t know what to say.” She whispered shocked, she looked at the ring and back up at him. “Don’t say anything but yes to my question.” Caracalla stared at her, how her hair fell out from her face shaping her pretty face. How her cheeks were tinted pink by his boldness to give a lady such as her stature, a ring that would cost her life wages maybe more.

Her heart nearly stopped when she heard a crunch from beneath her, she looked down to see the emperor kneeling. She had the most powerful man in Rome at her feet as he spoke his heart out to her. “Ever since that night of Mars, I haven’t be able to get the illusion of you out of my mind. You have plague my thoughts of your beauty and your words, teasing me with your smiles. I must have your hand.”

He… He was asking to marry her?

She gasped, no she must be dreaming this couldn’t be right. She couldn’t marry him, well more importantly he couldn’t marry her. He was the Emperor of Rome, she was a mere maid of the imperial palace, this would be nothing but a phase until he found a wife. “I’m afraid I must reject.”

Caracalla heart sank, she was rejecting him? No, no, she couldn’t. She heard his frustration of trying to find a wife, she was the one to whisper soft comfort to him, to hold him. Now she was taking that from him? Did she forget the night they shared together under the pale moonlight?

“I’m afraid you don’t even know my name, I am but a maid to you and the senate. All of Rome would reject our marriage.” The maid spoke in a whisper, outlining the issues. Caracalla’s eyes darkened, “I don’t care what they think, you will be my wife, I want you no one else to grow old with, to rule with, to be with. I know we shared one night but I want many others with you.” His voice was upset as it dragged out certain words.

“I want to learn your name.” Caracalla breathed out finally. “I want to learn everything about you…” His hand reached up to hers with the ring. “Just please.”

The maid felt a pain in her heart, she suddenly was plagued with visions of her in a white wedding dress, talking to Caracalla in court about Roman issues, getting flowers thrown at her by the people and raising Caracalla’s heir. She pulled herself out the delusions, they were so tempting and so close almost as if she could touch them.

“Court me.” Her voice spoke up. It wouldn’t ruin his reputation, it would give her some time to ease through ranks so she could be a respectable bride and give him time to learn her name. His eyes blinked a couple of times before nodding hurriedly.

#comfort #caracalla x you #caracalla x reader #emperor caracalla #emperor geta #gladiator ii #gladiator 2

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rxqueenotd · 2 days ago

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In the Roman world, damnatio memoriae was used to describe a range of actions taken against former leaders and their reputations. These actions included: defacing visual depictions, removing heads from public statues, chiseling names off inscriptions, and destroying coins.

summary: reader, who goes by 'Prima', was raised by a powerful Roman consul, under the reign of Imperator Septimius Severus. When it comes time for his eldest son, Caracalla, to marry again, a chain of events is set off, changing the course of Prima's life and the lives around her.

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

warnings: arranged marriage, foul language, mentions of blood, bodily fluids, Ancient Rome as a warning in itself, bloodletting, p n v penetration, orgy-ish situation, animal sacrifice.

notes: literally posting this from a McDonalds parking lot on the way to a Christmas party. A quick thanks to my brotha @trashmouth-richie and @londonfog-chan for all the help. I owe you guys what’s left of my soul. Please like and share if you enjoy this series! Over 7000 words in this chapter alone.

The delicate aroma of fresh bread and honey wafted through the air, mingling with the faint scent of blossoming flowers from the courtyard outside. Fine earthenware plates held an assortment of breakfast delicacies scattered across an oval table in the middle of the room: warm, crusty loaves of panis glistened with honey, bowls of ripe figs and olives, and delicate cheeses. A pitcher of cool, refreshing water sat alongside a flask of rich, dark wine—though it was early, you had indulged yourself. The gentle clinking of utensils and the soft rustle of linen filled the dining room as guests served themselves, enjoying the simple pleasures of the morning. A musician played softly in the corner, the gentle strumming of a lyre adding a serene layer to the room. You sighed happily as you sat alone at a table in the corner of the great room with the perfect view of the courtyard. For all the drama of the previous day, you revelled in being alone, relishing the magnificent frescoed walls that depicted scenes of mythological feasts and playful Bacchanalian revelries. The sunlight shone in delicately, warming the marble flooring in which you drug your barefoot across under the table.

“You must have said something to set him off. I could still smell your perfume when I walked into his chambers—he was that quick to summon me,” Caracalla said, plopping down in the chair across from you with an exaggerated huff. You sighed, placing your cutlery down, knowing fair well that any peace you had maintained over the course of the morning was over. His new golden incisor caught the light as he spoke. You had stepped out onto the balcony for just a moment when the physician had come to fix the cracked tooth the night before, a souvenir from Septimius’s fist meeting Caracalla’s lip.

“Just because you think we share a common enemy does not mean we are allies,” you shot back. Making it clear that your act of cleaning him up and reaching an agreement the previous night did not give him the right to intrude on your peaceful breakfast.

“He never even made it to Baiae,” he retorted, glancing at you dismissively. “He only got as far as Ostia. This was just a test to see how well I could manage on my own.”

His face was swollen, bruises bloomed in deep shades of purple and green around his nose and mouth, the latter catching dramatically on the light as he spoke.

“A test you failed spectacularly,” you replied, arching an eyebrow as you bit into a particularly sour grape.

“Did you let him turn you into a quivering mass of need?” he asked, a mocking giggle escaping his lips, “Did he entertain you with tales of his wild sons and his deceased wife?”

“No,” you admitted, shaking your head, “He did not reduce me to anything but confusion.” You let out an exasperated sigh. “I find that I am still confused.”

“If he truly cared for Rome,” he said, his tone dripping with jealousy and hurt as he turned to meet your gaze, “If he truly cared for me as his son, he would step down and stop fostering Geta’s hope that one day this empire may be ours together.”

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, bitterness lacing his voice.

“Surely you see that I am just your wife—no consul, no philosopher, just a woman.” you replied, feigning innocence as you took a sip of your wine, challenging him with your gaze.

“Ah, that’s a rare admission from you, wife.” he said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Do you think it was him?”

You flicked your gaze toward Senator Blandus, a quick movement that Caracalla caught. Senator Blandus stood with a slight stoop, his height diminished, yet his presence was still imposing. His once broad shoulders sagged under the weight of years spent navigating the treacherous waters of Roman politics. The edges of his toga were slightly tattered, its white wool dulled with age, carelessly draped over his shoulder. The deep purple stripe that signified his senatorial rank had faded, hinting at a man who had seen better days. His gaunt face and sunken cheeks accentuated his unkempt style, with thin, wispy hair and a matching gray beard that was scraggly and untrimmed. His murky brown eyes held a suspicious gleam as they scanned the surrounding people, narrowing even more when they landed on you and Caracalla.

He set his wine cup down with a sigh, glancing around the room before looking back at you.

“I have already had him investigated. He spent the night at his mistress’s villa.”

“That leaves us with only a few suspects.” you countered, leaning in closer, rolling a plump grape between your fingers.

“Indeed,” he replied, shifting in his seat, “But my wager is on Macrinus.”

You leaned back, crossing your arms, challenging his assertion. “Do you honestly think he’s that ambitious? Surely it is some sort of breach of conduct to obtain my correspondence and report to your father regarding your every whim.”

“He has been whispering in Geta’s ear since the unfortunate passing of Plautianus.” He snickered, finishing off his wine and fixed his gaze on you, “Ambition spreads like a plague within these walls.”

He set down his wine cup again, looking around as courtiers, senators, and servants bustled about the lavish dining hall surrounding you both.

“Is this what you have been doing all morning?” he asked, a hint of accusation in his voice, “Leading your own investigation?”

“I do not know what you are talking about,” you replied sarcastically, “I am merely enjoying breakfast, unlike some people.”

“Like I said,” he said, standing and looking down at you with a challenging glare, “there is always a motive here.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Anxiety snaked tightly around you as you made your way to your quarters in search of solace. The night spent in Caracalla’s chambers had offered no restful sleep; instead, you found yourself waking unceremoniously on the chaise by his balcony, time and again, while he lay sprawled across his bed, a thin sheet barely covering his bare ass, snoring and mumbling like a drunken soldier. It had felt strange to seek refuge in his quarters, united by the turmoil brought about by his father’s hand.

It was easy to crawl in your bed and get lost amongst the silky sheets. Having not slept properly the night before, you allowed yourself to be pulled under, letting sleep claim you without a fight.

You woke suddenly, a weight pressing you down, your breath caught in surprise as your body refused to move. Above you, a pair of pale eyes—hazy and unrelenting, like the sky before a storm—fixed themselves on you. Their intensity felt heavier than the body that held them. It took a moment for your senses to settle, for your vision to clear, and when it did, you realized Caracalla’s body was tangled with yours—his legs draped over your left thigh, his hands planted on either side of your head as though framing you.

There was no telling how long he had been there, silently watching, and it was clear he had no intention of stopping then, even though you had caught him. You let your eyes roam over his face, taking in the rough texture of his pale skin, like polished, blighted marble under the soft glow of a torch. His pupils shifted, dark and wide, as they moved over you, drinking in every detail, the quiet between you charged with something unspoken.

“Will you have me?” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you gazed up at him. You knew all too well how Caracalla’s moods shifted like the tides—unpredictable and dangerous. The effort to stay steady, not to be swept away by his waves, weighed heavily on you.

He nodded, silent but certain, and tugged his tunic over his head, baring his silken chest to the flickering lamplight. You remained still, letting him take the lead, scared that even the slightest misstep might stir his infamous temper or send him retreating into the shadows. His hands moved with surprising care as he slipped your toga down your slender form, letting it fall away to the ground to reveal your body beneath.

For a moment, neither of you moved. You simply stared, locked in a gaze that spoke more than any words could, as the last barrier between your bodies was cast aside. The air between you was heavy, charged, and waiting.

You felt the heaviness of his cock against the soft skin of your thigh as he worked himself rhythmically, his closeness stirring a deep ache within you, a tension that spread like fire beneath your skin. The intimacy of the moment caught you unguarded, raw, and unspoken. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead gently to yours, his breath mingling with your own. Unable to resist, you caught his lower lip between your teeth, biting softly before his mouth overtook yours. He sighed into you, his resolve melting as he met your kiss. Your tongues tangled, slow at first, then urgent, as though the space between you had collapsed entirely.

You opened your legs for him, this time by your own will. Yet, as he moved to settle himself between them, his breath, warm and uneven against your neck, suddenly stilled. His movements ceased, and a heavy sigh escaped him, brushing against your skin.

“It is not—” he began, his voice taut with frustration, “I cannot—”

He propped himself up, looking down at you with a furrowed brow, his expression a storm of shame and anger. Unsure of what to say or do, you felt the heat of embarrassment creep up your cheeks as your gaze drifted downward to his softened cock.

“Is it me?” you asked quietly, half-ashamed.

He let out another sigh, his eyes closing as though in pain. “It is not for lack of desire, I swear it.”

“Is there something I can do?” you asked, sitting up, clutching the sheet to your chest, suddenly feeling the weight of self-consciousness.

“No.” His reply was short, and he rose abruptly, pulling his tunic over his head forcefully. He avoided your gaze as he reached for the wine on the bedside table, pouring himself a cup with trembling hands.

The crash startled you. He had flung the cup against the wall, the red wine streaking down like blood spilled from a gaping wound, pooling darkly on the marble floor.

“Get out,” he growled, his voice low but heavy with restrained fury.

“These are my chambers,” you reminded him, pulling the sheet tighter around you, trying to steady your voice.

“Get out, Prima.” His tone was colder now, his warning unmistakable.

Swallowing your pride, you hurriedly adjusted your toga, your hands fumbling to secure it in place. You retrieved your veil, crumpled between the pillows, and made your exit with hastened steps.

Outside, as you slipped your sandals back on, the crash of objects breaking echoed through the wooden door, followed by a muffled scream that sent a shiver down your spine. You clenched your fists, your breath steadying. Though you had lost this battle, somewhere deep within, hope remained—for the war was not yet over.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

As you stepped inside the temple of Juno, you were immediately enveloped by a sense of tranquility. There had always been something about Juno that stirred you, but now, with your own marriage in turmoil, you felt a deeper connection to her. Her struggles with Jupiter mirrored your own in ways you had not fully grasped before. As the patron goddess of the empire, it felt right to ask for help as Augusta yourself. A child granted by Juno’s favor would surely be blessed, a gift of divine intervention. Marital help could wait, you told yourself. For now, you had one prayer, and it was for a child.

The air was cool and inviting, a welcome contrast to the warm sunlight outside. Delicate frescoes depicted scenes from Juno's mythology—her fierce protectiveness over women, her role in the great tales of heroism, and the beauty of marriage. Each brushstroke told a story, and you would have allowed yourself to be swept up by every tale if you had not been on a mission.

The temple was supported by regal, marble columns, their surfaces gleaming, reflecting the light from the stained glass windows onto their polished surfaces. The soaring ceiling was painted in rich hues of blue and gold, much like the sky at dawn, and you found yourself looking towards the heavens at its beauty.

As you moved deeper into the temple, you came upon the central altar, an imposing structure made of polished stone, carved with symbols of Juno—a peacock, representing beauty and pride, and a scepter, symbolizing power. The altar was adorned with offerings left by devoted worshippers: fresh flowers in vibrant colors, fruits from the harvest, and fragrant incense that filled the air with a sweet, calming aroma.

Juno’s statue stood front and center on the altar, surrounded by statues of different sizes, each capturing her essence in their own way. Some portrayed her as a regal figure in flowing robes, while others depicted her in a more maternal light, holding a child or surrounded by symbols of family.

“Your Excellency,” a priest approached, bowing his head in reverence, “it is an honor to stand in your divine presence.”

Upon his head sat a laurel crown, its fresh green leaves glistened with dew, a symbol of both honor and divine favor of the goddess herself. You remembered him from your wedding day- specifically how the laurel matched his deepset, green eyes.

Cassia presented to you a basket brimming with fragrant lilies, glistening white candles, a flask of the finest vintage wine, and a jar of the sweetest honey ever tasted. With a wave of your hand, you dismissed her to take her place outside the temple, accompanied by your assigned praetorians. You felt assured, having sent word ahead to the temple of your arrival, requesting both discretion and a sacred space in which to invoke the goddess.

“I trust that my offering has been prepared,” you remarked.

He nodded in acknowledgment. “Follow me.”

You trailed behind him to the rear of the temple, descending a flight of marble stairs into an atrium of sorts. The soft glow of white candles illuminated the room, their flickering flames dancing upon the golden statues that adorned the shelves embedded in the walls. At the center of the chamber lay a medium-sized tiled bathing pool, set into the floor.

As you approached, the distant bleating of a lamb reached your ears.

"We shall begin when you are prepared," the priest stated with a respectful nod. With a sense of dignity, you removed your robes, standing tall before the gaze of the goddess.

At that moment, another priest entered the chamber, leading a lamb, adorned in a flowing white robe accented with a rich purple trim at the hem, wearing the same radiant laurel crown you had seen earlier.

Both priests raised the lamb above your head, their voices intertwining as they recited ancient prayers to the goddess, carefully steadying the creature before making the first cut. You closed your eyes, centering your thoughts on the heavens. As the warm blood began to cascade over your face and down your neck and shoulders, you raised your voice proudly to the goddess, proclaiming your devotion and intent:

“We adore thee Goddess, we invoke you, Juno, for it is written that you will bless those who call upon you and sacrifice to you. I pray to you, Goddess Juno, and offer these gifts so that you may favor my house and household.”

As you stood there, your thoughts continued to drift back to Caracalla—the way he had faltered just hours before, leaving you feeling a mix of frustration and concern. It was hard not to dwell on the sacrifices you had made and would continue to make, all in the hopes of giving him an heir.

The weight of your marriage pressed down upon you, and you only felt relief when you stepped into the bathing pool, submerging yourself as the thick blood mingled with the warm water.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

As you knelt before the grand statue in the main hall, redressed and feeling lighter, you pressed a gentle kiss to the goddess’s feet. The lilies were arranged just right, symbols of your devotion, a reflection of what you desired and prayed the goddess could help you with.

You dipped the candle ends into the honey, feeling the sticky sweetness as you prepared to light them. The oil lamp glowed warmly as you ignited the first candle. One by one, the other candles caught fire, illuminating the space around you as you set them in the designated holder.

You poured the wine, its rich color glistening in the candlelight, and set the bottle down with care. As you whispered the prayer again, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. Closing your eyes, you let the words sink deep, hoping that the goddess would hear your heart.

Suddenly, your moment of peace in the temple was broken by another presence. Before you could even open your eyes to see who it was, he spoke, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

“I cannot believe there is still a lamb left to sacrifice after your wedding. They must have sacrificed so many that the whole flock is nearly extinct.” Geta knelt beside you, a smirk on his face.

You quipped with a serious face, “Shall I offer you as the next sacrifice? Surely, one of your esteemed stature would grant me favor with the goddess.”

Geta laughed, the sound sharp and out of place in the quiet of the room. “Ironic, is it not? Not even a full cycle of Luna has passed, and you are already making offerings to save your fragile union.”

He seized your hand, running the edge of his nail beneath your own with deliberate care. A thin line of blood appeared, evidence of the sacrifice, vivid against your skin. He drew it to his lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he tasted it, a sly smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

“Do you think your husband knows how devout his wife truly is? So unwavering in her dedication?” Geta’s tone dripped with mockery, each word drawn out as though savoring the chance to provoke.

“Why are you here, Geta?” you asked, weariness lacing your words. His constant mockery was like salting an open wound, relentless and cruel.

He tilted his head, his eyes sweeping over your face with the precision of a blade. “Tell me,” he said, his voice like silky steel, “do you know what your husband does while you linger here in the temple, like a devout little dove?”

You sighed, your gaze fixed on the statue before you. “What, pray tell, is he doing now?”

You rose to your feet, giving him a silent nod to lead the way. The journey back to Palatine Hill drew curious glances as Geta’s guards merged with your own, their strides echoing in the narrow streets. You walked side by side, close enough to appear united yet distant enough that the silence between the two of you felt natural, you would offer him no word or glance to break the tension.

Rome pulsed with life around you. The aroma of fresh-baked bread mingled with the earthy scent of clay and smoke, a reminder of the city's crowded living spaces, where families lived stacked upon one another. Cassia, ever dutiful at your side, stole glances when she thought you would not notice. Her unease was palpable, and you made a mental note to instruct her in masking her emotions—though you could hardly claim to be a master yourself. Your jaw clenched tighter with every step, the pressure so fierce your teeth threatened to shatter.

As you approached the grand imperial palace, the atmosphere remained unchanged. You waved dismissively to Cassia while Geta signaled his soldiers to depart. Your own guard bowed in respect, and you returned the gesture with a simple wave of your hand.

Leaving the atrium, you trailed a few steps behind Geta as he strode down a lengthy corridor, ascending a flight of gilded steps that led to the private chambers of the palace. Upon reaching the threshold of his quarters, he paused and beckoned you inside with a wave from the doorway.

“This is a bad idea, and you are well aware of it,” you replied, shaking your head in disapproval, “You know Caracalla has requested that I do not converse with you under any circumstances.”

“You can either come with me or stand there like a fool,” he said, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Your choice.”

With a reluctant sigh, you stepped into his quarters, moving just enough for him to close the door behind you.

“What happens next?” you asked, trying to mask the unease in your voice.

He led you across the room to another door, swinging it open to reveal his impressive study—similar in grandeur to Caracalla’s. Just as you suspected, he slid aside a panel next to a bookcase, revealing a hidden passageway, the same one he had guided you through on your wedding night when Caracalla had been passed out. You navigated the narrow corridor, following Geta, a knot of anxiety tightening in your throat.

“I have had enough of these secret passages, of hidden motives and lies,” you admitted with a heavy sigh. “And I am emotionally drained from dealing with the fragile egos of you and your brother. I am sick from whiplash due to both of your ever changing moods. Have we not moved on from those childish days in Sicilia?”

Geta paused for a moment, the flickering torch light illuminating his features. “You speak as though we have tormented you day in and day out for years. I assure you, it was and will never be personal.”

“What is life if it is not personal, Geta?” you inquired sincerely.

“It is merely a game, Prima. We play the cards we are dealt.” He turned, his gaze thoughtfully assessing your expression. “Do not feign ignorance. You are indeed playing your hand, I have observed it myself.”

“Make sure you cover yourself up properly,” he said, glancing at the veil you wore, adjusting it to better hide your profile. “And take off that necklace.”

Feeling confused, you did as he asked, surprised when he took the necklace from you and placed it gently over the bridge of your nose, fastening it at the back of your head.

“To hide your face,” he explained.

“Hide my face from what?” you asked, but before he could reply, he slid the door open.

He stepped into the chamber, his silhouette suddenly illuminated by the flickering candlelight, a hazy cloud of incense swirling around him like a mist. With a graceful gesture, he extended his hand toward you, and before you could second-guess your instincts, you accepted it, allowing him to guide you from the dim corridor.

Before you, a scene of unabashed hedonism played out, where pleasure took precedence. Bodies entwined on every available surface; no lectus was spared from the terror of lovers lost in ecstasy. The air was thick with a chorus of moans and sighs, punctuated by the occasional sharp sound of flesh meeting flesh.

The chamber itself seemed to have once served as a sleeping quarters, now transformed into a sanctuary of indulgence. An elevated bed rested against the wall, draped in sheer curtains that obscured its occupants, their movements a hazy blur. In the area where you and Geta had entered, a grand table stood opposite, filled with exotic fruits and succulent roasted meats, inviting guests to partake in the feast while they watched the show. They swayed gently to the sultry melodies played by skilled musicians on lyres and flutes, the atmosphere alive and electric.

Geta guided you further into the chamber, his presence momentarily undetected as he settled into a high-backed chair that afforded him a prime view of the bed’s occupants. You lingered before him, your senses overwhelmed by the sights and sounds, when he suddenly drew you down to sit on his lap.

“Geta—” you protested, a hint of disapproval in your voice, “this is highly inappropriate.”

“Amidst all around us, you single this out as inappropriate?” he quipped, a playful smirk on his lips. “Sit still and enjoy the moment.”

His words hung in the air, a blend of mischief and allure, as the curtains on the bed began to sway, promising a view of its occupants lost in their own worlds.

There, amidst a tangle of hands and mouths, Caracalla lay sprawled in the center of the bed. His eyes were tightly shut, back arched away from the mattress as a woman stroked his cock with a dizzying rhythm—first lazily from root to tip, then with a fervor that blurred her hand around his delicate member. His toes curled, and his eyes rolled back as his seed spilled onto the woman’s fist, lost in the throes of ecstasy.

You tensed in Geta’s lap, torn between horror and fascination as the scene unfolded before you. Caracalla’s cock, spent yet firm against his thigh, filled you with a wave of shame as you recalled how flaccid he had been hovering over your own bare form earlier in the day.

Surrounded by three women, you watched as they descended upon him like vultures. The petite one mounted him, her cunt swallowing his spent cock in a single fluid motion. She rode him without pause, her gaze fixed on the other two girls who writhed at the head of the bed, their moans rising and falling in a symphony of pleasure as Caracalla’s fingers danced in and around their cunts, his ministrations causing them to lose all sense of reason as evident by their sounds.

You squeezed your thighs together, trying to block out the pulsing sensation. Sensing your turmoil, Geta placed his hands on your hips, guiding you to press down and grind your damp cunt into the firm flesh of his thigh.

“No,” you breathed, inhaling shakily as you pushed his hands away.

A stunning woman approached the two of you, and you stood, excusing yourself from the scene. You watched as she led Geta away, his head turning back towards you, a fleeting look of longing crossing his features as you slipped away toward the panel, revealing the hidden corridor. It was only once you reached the solitude of your quarters that you finally allowed your mask to fall, the weight of the day finally sinking in.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

It took exactly a week to ready Cassia, building her confidence for the task ahead. Though you had been anxious at first, desperation had a way of gnawing straight to the bone. Once you accepted the reality of your situation, you knew it was time to act—to wound Caracalla as deeply as he had wounded you.

It was common knowledge that Septimius had generously gifted you part of his late wife’s collection: a set of ruby rings, the golden diadem he had placed upon your head on your wedding day, and a striking emerald necklace. Of all these treasures, the rubies had become your favorite, their deep crimson a perfect match for your heirloom wrist cuffs, which you chose for your daily attire.

Cassia took pride in her role, carefully preparing each piece as you dressed daily, her timing impeccable as she laid them out. She beamed whenever she knew she had chosen well, her satisfaction a quiet victory. Though she was still reserved, Cassia had begun to open up, sharing bits of her life before becoming a servant of the palace. She spoke of her family, her village, and, to your surprise, revealed that the two of you shared a name day.

“Perhaps this is the gods’ way of blessing our budding friendship,” you said with a smile, resting your hand gently on her forearm.

“Perhaps, your excellency,” she replied, her cheeks flushing with color.

“I must admit, I detest such formality,” you said, tilting your head with a playful grin. “You may call me Prima.”

“I could never,” she murmured, her gaze dropping to the floor. “It would be dishonorable.”

“I believe it falls to me to decide what is and is not a dishonor,” you reassured her, your tone soft but firm.

Over the next few days, you spoke candidly with Cassia, sharing glimpses of your life before becoming Augusta. You told stories of fleeting childhood encounters with the Imperator and his sons with personal anecdotes, revealing just enough to make her feel at ease.

As the seeds of friendship began to take root, you started to stitch together the threads of your larger scheme.

“Cassia,” you asked one morning as she fastened the clasps on your tunic, “have you ever been to the villa that houses the concubines?”

“I… have not,” she admitted, her hands pausing briefly before returning to their task. “Though I am close with one of the regular servants stationed there.”

You nodded, your expression neutral as you combed your hair before the looking glass, watching her reflection as she carefully selected a veil to complement your attire.

Two days later, as you strolled through the rose garden, Cassia presented a petite blonde girl to you.

“Your excellency, may I introduce Metella,” she said, her tone light yet tinged with nerves.

The girl, no older than Cassia, bowed low. You tilted your head, studying her with quiet curiosity.

“She works at the villa, your excellency,” Cassia added, offering context, doing your bidding without you having to ask her to.

“Yes, of course,” you replied with a measured nod. “A pleasure to meet you, Metella.”

“The pleasure is mine, your excellency,” Metella said softly, her faint smile barely reaching her eyes.

You spent a good portion of the afternoon in their company, walking the garden paths. Cassia and Metella trailed close behind, pausing whenever you stopped to smell a set of roses. At your direction, they clipped the blossoms you favored. As they worked, Metella spoke in hushed tones about the villa.

“Behind the palace,” she began, her voice just above a whisper as she clipped another rose, “up the gravel road that leads away from the stables, there is a villa. Three ladies live there now.”

You nodded, already certain of whom she spoke, but said nothing as the pieces of your plan continued to fall into place.

You stopped abruptly, spinning on your heel to face them. The speed of your movement caught Cassia and Metella off guard, and they nearly stumbled into you.

“If I asked a favor of you both, would you consider it?” you asked, your tone calm but carrying a weight that left no room for dismissal.

The girls exchanged a glance, an unspoken conversation passing between them. Cassia was the first to respond, her face lighting up with a genuine smile.

“Anything for you, your excellency,” she said, bowing low. You couldn’t help but smile softly at her devotion. Metella quickly followed suit, her bow a little less confident. It was in that moment you knew—the plan would succeed.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

It took two days to carefully craft every detail. You scrutinized the scheme in your mind, playing out every scenario until you felt confident enough for the plan to officially be carried out.

Late one night, under the cover of darkness, you met Cassia and Metella in the stables. The air was thick with tension as the girls paced nervously, their movements quick and uncertain. You had already arranged for the stable hands to be elsewhere, ensuring complete privacy.

“There will be panic,” you began, your voice low and deliberate, “and the servants’ quarters will be turned upside down in the search for these jewels. But if you listen carefully and follow my instructions exactly, no blame will fall on either of you.”

Both girls nodded, their wide eyes fixed on you as you reached beneath your cloak and produced a small satin bag.

“In the morning, Metella, place a piece of jewelry into each of their jewelry boxes after you have dressed them and they have left the villa,” you instructed. “Metella, once it is done, come straight to my quarters.”

Metella nodded, her trembling hands reaching for the bag. She tucked it into her satchel, her knuckles pale from holding the satchel so tightly.

“If, at any point, you feel frightened or unable to carry out the task, return the jewels to me immediately,” you said, your tone softening slightly. But then your expression hardened, and the faint moonlight caught the sharp edge of your gaze.

“And know this—if either of you breathes a word of this plan to another soul, I will see you crucified. Your entrails will hang from the city walls, and your families will be exiled to the furthest, most desolate rock beneath the sun.”

The chilling threat lingered in the air. Cassia and Metella glanced at each other nervously.

They turned back to you and nodded, their expressions solemn.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

The morning of, you could not stop pacing your chambers, every detail of the plan playing on a loop in your mind. You woke early, bathing slowly, letting the warm water and scented oils calm your nerves. By the time you dressed and added the finishing touches, you felt more prepared—or at least looked the part.

Cassia appeared in your doorway, her hair slightly out of place and worry etched on her face.

“Your excellency, am I late?” she asked, her voice small.

“I am merely early,” you said, smoothing the folds of your tunic as you checked yourself in the looking glass. You barely had a moment to exhale before the door slammed open, and Metella rushed in.

“It is done,” she said, breathless and quiet.

You nodded, keeping your expression neutral even as your pulse quickened. “Good. Now, listen carefully. I need both of you to prepare an offering to Juno in my name. Once you have gathered what is needed, go to her temple and spend the day praying—ask her to grant me an heir. Do not return to the palace until dusk.”

They exchanged a glance but nodded quickly, bowing their heads.

“I will give you enough time to get ready before I speak with the Imperator,” you said firmly. “You are dismissed.”

The door shut behind them, and the silence that followed was deafening. You leaned against your dressing table, gripping its edge to steady yourself. For a moment, you let the mask drop, your fear bubbling to the surface. Taking a shaky breath, you whispered a prayer—not just to Juno, but for the strength to face what was coming. You could only hope the Imperator would not see right through you.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Prima, what a delightful surprise,” Septimius exclaimed as you approached the table on his sunlit terrace. He nodded, dismissing the praetorian who had guided you inside, returning him to his post.

“I hope I am not intruding,” you said, glancing down at the imperator’s feet, which rested in a basin filled with amber liquid.

“Ah, the trials of age, nothing more,” he reassured you, gesturing for you to take a seat across from him. He poured a cup of rich wine and offered it to you. You nodded in gratitude as his gaze searched your face.

“What troubles you?” he inquired, tilting his head slightly.

“What do you mean?” you replied, taking a sip from your cup, feigning innocence.

“There is a shadow of worry behind those lovely eyes,” he noted, crossing his hands on the table.

You sighed and set your cup down. “I am embarrassed, Imperator,” you began, watching as his brows knitted together, “something has occurred.”

“What has happened, Prima?” he asked, leaning in closer, his concern evident.

“The rubies you gifted me, the ones that belonged to your late wife—I fear they have gone missing.” You covered your face in shame as he reached out to grasp your wrist gently.

“When did this happen?” he pressed, his delicate grip urging you to speak.

“I noticed this morning,” you murmured, “I sent my two servants to the temple of Juno at dawn, instructing them to make offerings in my honor and not to return until dusk.” You paused, gathering your thoughts. “I dressed myself to meet with my father, to catch up on family matters, but when I went to retrieve the rubies from their resting place, they were gone.”

Septimius sighed, leaning back in his chair, stroking the gray stubble on his chin. “Have you confided in Caracalla?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“He is not pleased that I wear his mother’s jewelry,” you admitted. “He has threatened to take them from me and give them to his courtesans if I continue to wear them. He thinks me unworthy.”

Septimius’s eyes narrowed. “He still indulges with his courtesans?”

“Please, your excellency, do not say it was I who revealed this,” you implored, reaching for his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, asking for his discretion.

“I have heard whispers that the three he favors have taken residence in the villa behind the stables.” You spoke softly, shame flooding your cheeks.

Septimius straightened, his jaw tightening as he regarded you. “Spend the day with your father, and allow me to address this matter,” he instructed, and you nodded solemnly. “Exercise the utmost discretion and speak of this to no one else.”

“Of course.” You rose, but he caught your hand before you could express your gratitude and leave his quarters.

“Everything shall be well in due time,” he promised, kissing your knuckles as he met your gaze.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Word spread like wildfire through the bustling halls of the palace, as the praetorians stormed the servants’ quarters, tearing through each room, leaving a trail of chaos in their wake. It wasn’t long before you learned the news: the jewelry had been found in the possession of Antonia, Tullia, and Marcella, the ladies residing in the villa behind the stables.

As soon as the jewelry was found tucked away in each lady’s respective jewelry box, the villa was locked down tight, with guards stationed to ensure no one could slip in or out, all by the direct order of the Imperator. The three women were swiftly banished from the palace and exiled to the farthest reaches of the empire, their families shamed by their actions, forced to join them in their sentencing. It was truly a stroke of luck that they still had their heads on their shoulders, for the Imperator could have dealt them a harsher fate.

Your plan had worked like a charm, unfolding just as you had hoped. The pieces fell into place perfectly, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction at how it all turned out.

As night descended and you faced the weight of your choices, you let your emotions wrap around you like a heavy blanket—neither ashamed nor particularly proud, but feeling as though you had sunk lower than expected. Shaking off such thoughts, you turned to the polished bronze mirror on your dressing table, brushing aside the strands of hair that clung to your neck and wiping away the remnants of kohl from your eyes.

It was then that the echoes of an angry voice grew louder, approaching your quarters. You sprang to your feet, frozen in place, the sheer fabric of your gown pooling around your feet as your gaze fixed on the door.

When Caracalla burst in, you remained still.

“You!” he spat through clenched teeth, flinging a handful of precious ruby rings in your direction. “You deceitful, rancid wench!” He advanced, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

“You have made a fool of me!” He seized your shoulders, shaking you with fury.

“You’ve done that to yourself!” You pulled away, but he was quick to grasp you again, forcing you backward until your back hit the wall beside the door.

“I was merely reclaiming what is rightfully mine,” you declared, holding your head high, “what was taken from me.”

“What was taken from you,” he sneered, his arms pinning you in place as his hands braced against the wall on either side of your head. “Nothing here belongs to you.”

You struggled against his grip, but he pressed you closer to the wall with his own body.

“If we are to claim our rights, then I shall take what is mine.”

With a sudden motion, he hoisted you by the back of your thighs, slamming your back against the wall once more. You protested, pushing against his shoulders and striking at his solid flesh, but he merely laughed, relishing the moment as he held you against the wall, lifting your gown to expose your bare form.

“Deceitful wench,” he hissed through gritted teeth, yanking down the collar of your gown to reveal your neck and collarbones. You cried out as a sharp sting pierced the skin between your neck and shoulder, his incisors biting into your flesh. He pressed harder, a trickle of blood staining the sheer fabric of your gown.

You felt paralyzed, your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth as he pulled back, wrestling with his toga, his hands trembling with rage.

He held you so tightly that it started to hurt, burying himself deep inside you, lifting you off the wall with every thrust. He devoured the tender flesh of your neck and chest, biting, kissing, and sucking, his teeth grazing your soft skin.

All you could do was hang on to him, clinging to him so fiercely that it was hard to tell where he ended and you began.

With a loud grunt, he spilled himself within you, letting his head drop between your shoulder and neck as he gasped for breath. When he pulled back to look at you, he searched your face just as you searched his. Both of you were left wondering what had just happened and why it stirred feelings in you that you had never felt before.

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

Tag list:

@alwaysahiccupandastrid

@justnobodynothingmore

@miamariposita

@niungguang

dividers: @ghoulbloggerrr

#damnatio memoriae #emperor caracalla fred hechinger #emperor caracalla x reader x emperor geta #emperor geta joseph quinn #emperor geta x ofc #emperor geta x reader #emperor caracalla x you #gladiator ii fanfiction #emperor caracalla x reader

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lunajay33 · 9 hours ago

Text

Suppose to be You

•🖤🍑🏹🧟‍♀️•

Summary: You’re Shane’s girlfriend but when the apocalypse hits you find him changing and find yourself leaning more towards the only person who gives you the time of day, also you’re Rick’s younger sister

Pairing: Shane x f!reader, Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Warning: Shane’s a cheater obvi, harsh words, Merle

•Masterlist•

I first met Shane when my older brother Rick first started bringing him around the house, I never thought much of him but as we got older he started flirting and we only started dating when I turned 22, about a year ago, it’s been fun but then I lost my brother and then the world got taken over by walkers and that leads to now, camped out in a quarry on the outskirts of Atlanta

We took my sister in law, Lori and my nephew with us but after being here for a while Shane’s been treating me differently, like I’m just a burden to him

Sitting around the fire I’m sat across from Shane as he’s right next to Lori, I understand him wanting to console her her husband died, but he was my brother and I’m Shane’s girlfriend I just thought he’d try to console me even just a little

“You alright sweetie?” Dale asks from next to me

“Oh I’m fine thanks for asking though” I smile trying to brush it off but inside I’m hurting deeply like I’m loosing everything

“I think I’m just gonna head to bed early” I say standing up to leave, all Shane did was glance at me before his eyes went back to the fire, Carl got up and gave me a quick hug

“Night auntie y/n” he smiles, he’s always been the sweetest kid

“Night honey” I walk away as the cool of the night started to envelope me, instead of going back to the tent I went down to the quarry shore, I knew how to take care of myself around walkers I just need to be alone

I sat down feeling all the pressure weighing down on my chest, I lost my brother, then the world ends and now my boyfriend treats me like garbage, what else do I have…….whats the point

Finally letting the tears fall I let it all out before I hear branched snapping behind me, I turn nervously wiping the tears away sighing in relief when I realize it’s just Daryl Dixon, thankfully not accompanied by his ass of a brother Merle

“What’re ya doin down here alone” he asks his eyes squinted at me but for some reason he didn’t make me nervous

“Ummm just needed to get away, what’re you doing down here?”

“Just came back from a hunt saw ya down here……wanted ta check on ya”

My heart skipped a beat, something I haven’t felt in a long time now

“Come on let’s get ya ta bed” he huffed motioning back towards the path, it was a silent walk up to the camp but it was a comfortable silence

I got to mine and Shane’s tent when I hear his fast heavy footsteps heading our way

“The hell are you doing alone with Daryl Dixon” he groans gripping my arm and roughly pulling me away from Daryl

“Shane that hurts, he was just keeping me company” I look back at Daryl and I swear if looks could kill Shane would definitely be dead on the ground

“Get lost Dixon, go back to your dick of a brother” Daryl’s eyes landed on mine and I could see them soften before he left, the further the got the more I wanted to run to him instead of being near the person I should be safe with

“The hell were you thinking”

“Like you’d care” I sigh looking down to the ground

“What’re you talking about you’re my girlfriend of course I care”

“I can’t do this right now Shane I just wanna go to bed, I think I’m gonna stay with Carl tonight, Lori can stay with you bet she’ll love that” I brush him off and walk past him to the smaller tent Carl and Lori stayed in, thankfully they were still out so I could just finally have a moment of peace

How could I feel more peace and safety around a redneck man that I barely know, than my boyfriend I’ve known almost my whole life

I quickly drifted off to sleep welcoming the darkness

•

I woke up early the next morning to the subtle chirping of birds, I quietly left the tent trying not to wake up a still sleeping Carl

Looking around there wasn’t anyone up yet so I went at sat at the camp fire that still had some embers burning

“Hey, what’re ya doing up so early” I hear next to me seeing it’s Daryl again, usually he’d have a snippy attitude with the others in the camp but lately he’s been nice to me and I honestly didn’t care why I just needed someone to cheer me up

“Just couldn’t sleep much I guess, I’ve got a lot on my mind” I say poking at the fire

“Here” he grunted handing me a granola bar he must’ve gotten from his stash

“Thanks”

Then he was gone dissapearing through the thick tree line most likely going for a hunt again

Slowly people started to filter out of their tents and start getting ready for the day, I see Shane making his way towards me with his typical scowl that he never use to use towards me, I look away and turn my back to him

“Have you calmed down since last night” I scoff looking up at him as he towered over me trying to scare me asserting his dominance

“Just leave me alone, you only act like I matter when someone else is giving me attention, tell me do you even love me anymore?” He paused for a moment before answering

“Of course you just gotta stop being selfish I’m trying to console a grieving widow”

“Yeah well he was my brother Shane, did you forget that, just get away from me” I brush past him going towards the trees for some peace and quiet but when I’m deeper in the woods I feel him behind me squeezing my shoulder and he pushes me against a tree

“Shane what are you doing let me go”

“You better watch your mouth don’t forget who saved you when all this started” now he’s trying to guilt trip me

“I could’ve made it on my own, I probably would’ve been happier alone” he raised his hand before a bow zipped between us landing on the tree next to us

“You touch her like that again don’t think I would beat your ass down” Daryl growled coming closer taking my hand and putting me behind him as he stared down Shane

“You think you could take me Dixon, you may be a filthy redneck but don’t think I won’t take YOU”

“Shane just go away, why don’t you go check on poor Lori” I say holding onto Daryl’s arm tighter out of fear, a fear I’ve never felt around Shane before

He huffed before tromping off back towards the camp, when he was far enough away I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as I let all the emotions flood me

“God Daryl I’m so sorry to get you mixed in this, I don’t…..I don’t know why he’s like this, he never us to treat me like this and I’m…..I’m scared to be around him now” he takes both my shoulders in his hands and makes me face him gently

“It ain’t yer fault peach, I’ve been around my share of angry men and he’s a ticking time bomb, ya can’t be stay around him”

“If you can’t tell I don’t have no where else to go” my chest felt like it had a thousand bricks on it

“Ya can stay next ta me, we got an extra tent”

“Are you sure, what about Merle won’t he be mad”

“I can deal with that grump, come on let’s get ya settled” I’ve never heard Daryl speak so much but I can’t complain he’s like my saviour right now

•

We got the little tent sat up next to him that was a bit further away from the others but I didn’t care much, the further I am from Shane the better

“Thanks for all this Daryl” I say as we both finally settle down around the fire he sat up since night was falling

“Look at this, my lil bro got himself some tail” Daryl was cut of before he could speak by Merle’s grating voice as he plopped down across from us at the fire

“Merle give it up”

“She staying here now, good ta know we got some action right next door” he grins that sends unsettling chills down my spine

“I’m not doing that Merle for the thousandth time, I just needed some space”

“Finally figured out yer cop boyfriend is cheatin on ya?” My heart stopped, suddenly everything made sense, why he always stayed with Lori, why they’d both dissapear at the same time, why Lori could barely look me in the eyes

“Oh my god I feel so stupid how did I not notice I must look so pathetic to everyone” I groan as I drop my head in my hands

“He dont deserve ya, he’s the pathetic one” Daryl said softly as I heard Merle’s steps retreating into his tent, Daryl must’ve shooed him off

“You know why my brother first got shot I was a mess, couldn’t leave his side I was always so filled with anxiety I was basically wasting away but one day Shane convinced me to take a day to myself so I did, I went home and cleaned up and everything, the next thing I know Shane is busting in dragging me to the truck telling me everyone is dropping like flies and my brothers dead, then suddenly he treats me like a piece of trash, only Lori mattered, and…..he almost hit me today, that’s not the man I knew something’s wrong with him, sure he’s always been a bit hot tempered but this is different and all I can think about is……what is he comes after me again but no one’s there to help me” I sigh finally letting everything off my chest

“Ya ain’t goin no where alone anymore, I’ll protect ya” he said gently placing a hand on my back for a moment before it was gone again

“I can’t ask that of you, I’m not your problem”

“Believe it or not, yer the only person in this camp that doesn’t drive me up the wall, I’d like ta keep ya around a lil longer” he smiled as his words cheered me up a bit, I’ve never seen him genuinely smile and it’s making me feel all light headed

“Let’s head to bed……it’s been a long day” I stand up heading to my little tent as he did his next to mine

“Night D”

“Night Peach” his gaze stayed on me for a moment longer before he entered his tent, only making me think what life would be like if I had met Daryl first maybe I’d me happier

•

Part 2 is on its way!! Lmk how you liked this chapter

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twiishaa · 2 days ago

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twisha’s merry christmas event! secret santa with fushiguro megumi

megumi x fem!reader, fluff! yuji and nobara organised a secret santa for all the 1st years in jujutsu high (literally just the four of you). somehow, megumi got you, his not-so-secret cursh (it was definitely rigged... somehow....).

“all right!” yuji’s voice echoed through the room. “you guys have to pick a name from my santa hat!”

to get into the festive mood, you, megumi, nobara and yuji (read: nobara and yuji) decided to do a secret santa. the four of you were close, you guys had been on many dangerous missions together which forced you to get closer but now that it was nearing christmas, there were fewer negative emotions, and so less breeding ground for curses, meaning there were also less chances for you guys to meet up.

therefore, the most logical solution: a secret santa!

nobara went first to pick out a name, followed by yuji, then you, and lastly megumi. when megumi picked out his name, he blushed a little, then crumpled up the small sheet of paper. he was cooked.

oh, it was obvious who he got.

see, the way you were recruited was a bit… strange. you had originally been approached by nobara, megumi and yuji because megumi thought you were cute, so to tease him, the other two started a conversation. shortly after, they sensed a curse behind you, but before they could do anything, you had taken it out professionally and calmly—despite it being a 2nd grade cursed spirit, at least. ever since then, megumi had grown a certain… fondness towards you. and soon that fondness turned into a crush.

—

there was about one week until the secret santa gift exchange.

embarrassed, megumi tried to strike up a conversation with maki, and subtly ask about what to get you.

“hey megumi, what’s up? you usually never come to me for anything,” she said, preoccupied with her sparirng with panda.

“oh, you know, just…” megumi tried to play it off like it was nothing. “do you have any gift recommendations? for.. a girl?”

maki stopped for a second and looked at him.

“oh? is this for your secret santa? who’d you get?” she was more interested now, stopping completely.

sighing, megumi quietly accepted his fate and the teasing to come.

“…[name].”

maki did a fake squeal, causing megumi’s cheeks to turn bright red from embarrassment.

“ooh, isn’t that,” maki looked around outrageously before coming in to whisper in megumi’s ear, “your crush?”

“yes, she is, now just tell me what to get her!” megumi shouted a little, irritated.

maki backed off, starting to spar with panda again.

“[name], huh? get her a perfume that reminds you of her or something. girls love sappy stuff like that.”

and with that, megumi walked off and made his way to the mall, beelining to the perfume shop.

—

a few minutes hours later, megumi exited the shop, bag in hand. suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder; it was you. he jumped a little in shock, making you giggle and megumi’s face turn red, again.

“megumi? what are you doing here?” you asked, as he had just walked out of the perfume shop, primarily for girls.

megumi chuckled nervously. “oh, you know… christmas gifts for the family, and stuff…” he trailed off at the end.

“oh, I see!” megumi sighed a breath of relief.

“by the way, is secret santa next week?” you asked.

“uh- yeah. next week.” he replied, turning a little to face you.

you gave him a quick smile and waved, “ill see you tomorrow then, megumi!”

crisis averted?

—

the day for your secret santa arrived. you had all agreed to reveal who got who because yuji got too excited and told you his by accident. the four of you sat in a circle, the gifts in the middle.

after yuji’s turn, it was yours. picking up the bag that said your name on it. the bag looked a bit familiar… ignoring it, you opened the tissue paper wrapping. inside was a beautiful, floral perfume— it suited you perfectly.

then all the dots connected in your head. the bag, the perfume—

“oh my god, is this what you bought the other day megumi?! when I saw you in the mall?” you asked, a tone of excitement showing. megumi nodded.

“megumi, you liar! you told me it was like, your sister’s or something!” you said, laughing.

megumi laughed a little as well. “I mean, I couldn’t just say it was yours, I’m not like itadori.”

“hey!” yuji elbowed megumi in the side, causing you to laugh harder.

megumi liked the sound of your laughter. it made his heart warm.

—

a little after you guys all exchanged gifts, megumi pulled you aside while nobara and yuji were preparing some drinks.

“hey, I was wondering…” megumi began. taking a deep breath, he carried on with what he was saying.

“would you.. can I take you out on a date? like, after christmas or something?”

you stood there for a second, just processing what he said to you.

quickly, megumi added, “you don’t have to say yes! or anything.. actually, forget that I asked-” you cut him off.

“no! I would love to! megumi, have you only now noticed my very obvious crush on you? please can we go out… on a date…” megumi sighed another breath of relief.

on the other side of the room were yuji and nobara, ‘preparing the drinks’ (watching you two).

“this is our christmas reward,” nobara said, sipping at her hot chocolate; yuji nodded.

it definitely wasn’t like they rigged the names, or anything…

taglist @d0milol @hearts4hansol @kcch-ns

⋆⁺₊❅ and lastly, here's a link to the taglists! merry christmas~‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

#twisha’s merry christmas event!#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi jjk #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #jjk x reader

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ikeuki · 17 hours ago

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and the world kept spinning ! / 니키

+ syn. after getting detention on picture day, riki swears he hates you—his actions do not follow his words however.

✷ pairing. nishimura riki x fem!reader ; grumpy x sunshine 👠 tw. light cursing + one mention of a dealer/"product"? && 1.3k wc. — fluff/crack ★ author’s notes: mr. nonchalant is not so nonchalant now… (he’s selling)

“i'm gonna dip at lunch.” jake decided and laid back.

“same i have a bio test during fifth that i'm not trying to do,” heeseung added and leaned on the classroom’s wall.

it was routine for the older boys to accompany riki in his class before the bell rang since they all had class without him. riki’s classmates refused to even look to the back of the room where the delinquents were sprawled out.

jake was trying to paper football with sunghoon, having his legs on some poor kid’s desk and flicking a triangle “football,” made out of that same kid’s notebook paper.

sunghoon was half-playing with jake and half-on his phone. his additions to the conversation were the occasional “mhm” and “yeah i'm down.”

jay was sitting in front of riki, turned around with his arms resting on the chair. he continued speaking to heeseung, who was by the window, about their plans to ditch.

“um since when do you take bio?” jake asked, repositioning his little football before flicking it across the desk, through sunghoon’s goal.

“since forever—just haven’t been to actual class yet,” heeseung answered with a laugh.

“so riki, you gonna ditch with us?” jay asked the younger boy who was carving random drawings on his desk with an overly sharpened pencil.

“uh i don't know...my mom's been on my ass since i ditched on monday, she got a call from the school or something,” riki mumbled, keeping his eyes on the smudged lead in front of him.

he was still upset at how the school dean reported riki leaving the school premises during picture day. everyone else was doing it and he just happened to be the only one who got caught. maybe if he wasn't so distracted that day...

“you’re joking—they still do that?” jake asked.

“apparently.” he recalled that day, when he was waiting in line to get his picture taken so he could slip out unnoticed. unfortunately, his long last name prevented him from leaving in the morning like the rest of his friends and was stuck in the stuffy gym for more than three hours.

he thought it was pretty unproductive. on the school’s part. the students would all line up then go to class once done. but since they can’t monitor each student leaving, they’re giving everyone a one way ticket out of class!

moments before his impatience was going to kill him, he was distracted by a vanilla-scented girl who would click her heels nonstop.

aka, you.

after your little interaction, riki swiftly exited the gym, but not before turning to watch you take your picture through the door's window. you smiled softly, teeth showing naturally with your lip gloss shining under the reflective screen.

you easily listened to his advice, his scoff turning into more of a subtle smile. his eyes followed your figure hop off the black stool and pick up your freshly printed student id.

"hey!" a voice called from down the hall.

riki whipped his head towards the sound to see a man walking towards him, "why aren't you in class!" oh shit, it was the dean.

thus, he got detention and the dean called his mom to tattletale his "ditching." he blamed it on you. if you hadn't clicked your stupid little heels, he would have never talked to you and then would have never stood there outside the gym, out in the open for any hall monitors (or deans...) to come and catch him.

now he had to bail on his friends and was in deep shit at home. all because of you and your stupid heels. and stupid curls. and stupid vanilla-scented perfume. whatever!

jay continued talking about their afterschool activities and heeseung shared that his dealer just shipped new product. uninterested in the conversation, riki turned his head to the window. his eyes drifted outside where students were rushing to class.

he skimmed through the various students he never cared to look twice at. until a familiar figure emerged from the hurried crowd.

wait—soft and shiny hair, little black heels, and the freshly pressed school uniform that never looked this good on any other student. riki knew that girl anywhere.

you were chatting away with your friends, too immersed in whatever you were saying to notice the steps by the front of the building. your mouth was moving at the same speed as your legs. failing to see the four steps ahead of you, your little black heels tripped on the first one.

riki instantly stood up. pushing back his chair and desk and watching as you fell forward. the loud movement from his desk attracted the attention of everyone in the class, turning to watch their silent, mysterious classmate become the star of the spotlight. riki didn’t even notice though, his eyes glued to your clumsy figure.

“dude—!” jake exclaimed at the sudden movement.

“what the fu—” jay moved back.

luckily (not for riki), class president and top student, yang jungwon managed to step forward just in time to catch you. the scene played out like one from a kdrama, him swiftly turning you on your back and making you lock eyes with your savior.

riki watched from across the courtyard, three stories above, and through the window as you two smiled at each other before you awkwardly got to your feet. he watched as you patted his shoulder and rambled an apology.

your cheeks were flushed, a little embarrassed and maybe a little blushing. riki hoped it was only the first.

hold up.

why would he care if you were blushing. blushing for that goody-two shoes yang jungwon—who all the teachers and students adored. whatever. you should’ve fallen on your face, riki would’ve liked that better…yeah he totally would’ve.

“what the hell man!” heeseung asked, gripping onto his shoulder to question his outburst.

snapping out of his trance, riki turned to his friend and finally realized that everyone was staring at him. he wasn’t used to such attention.

“o-oh..uhh it’s nothing—i thought—nothing nevermind.” riki stammered, embarrassed. he quickly took his seat again and kept his head down to avoid any awkward glances. the class slowly returned to their conversations, ignoring the boy’s questionable actions.

“what do you mean nothing...” sunghoon spoke up, furrowing his eyebrows.

before his friends could continue hounding him for an answer, the front door slid open with a loud slam! everyone turned their heads to the teacher walking into the class. upon spotting the four misplaced boys, his demeanor immediately turned sour.

“yah! you four—get to class!” the teacher shouted from the door, pointing to the obviously out-of-place seniors in a junior class.

startled but unmoved, the boys casually got to their feet and walked to the back door.

“im so sorry teach, we just love our riki so much!” jake fake apologized and bowed a whole ninety-degrees.

the other three began putting their hands together and bowing too, sarcastically muttering apologies to the teacher and the other students.

“GET OUT!”

“have fun learning algebra!” heeseung shouted with only his head peeking in from the back door. riki only laughed at his annoyingly loud friends as they ran out into the hallway.

as the teacher began class, he looked back out the window to see you long gone. instantly, he internally slapped his own face.

‘stop looking at the window, riki.’

‘why are you looking for her, riki.’

‘she likes jungwon, riki.’

‘STOP THINKING ABOUT HER, RIKI!’

riki kept his eyes shut and tried to calm his own crazy thoughts. he put his head down on his desk, ignoring whatever the teacher started blabbering about.

with the inviting warmth of the sunlight radiating through the window, he was slowly drifting to sleep when suddenly he heard the door open.

click. clack. click.

#ikeuki ⭑.ᐟ #ni ki x reader #enhypen #enha #enha fluff #niki x reader #enha imagines #enha x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen niki #enhypen x reader #niki nishimura #riki fluff #riki imagines #enhypen riki #nishimura riki #riki x reader #enhypen nishimura riki #nishimura niki x reader

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reginamillls · 2 hours ago

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'Twas the Night Before Christmas

"-and with our final Christmas Mystery. One year ago today, LAFD Firefighter Thomas Kinard went missing-"

Buck is quick to turn off the TV, not wanting to hear anything more from one of his exes talking about the other one.

It hurt still, a year later, to find out that Tommy had gone missing on Christmas Eve, and that no one had reported him as gone until the 28th. It hurt that Tommy had been alone enough that no one noticed it, it hurt that even a year later, Buck was still hoping for some kind of Christmas miracle that he would come back.

Most people assumed he was dead. California wouldn't declare him as dead until he was missing for five years, but search efforts have gone down. He's heard all the theories, that Tommy was one of the Serial Killer's first victims, that he had flown off and crashed somewhere, that he moved away with out telling anyone -

That he was a lonely man who just decided Christmas was too much.

Buck didn't want to think about it, but he couldn't not just wonder what the hell happened. No one had heard from Tommy since the break up, and Buck didn't reach out - he was trying hard to just enjoy the Christmas season (the one they had made plans for together) and he wanted to reach out to Tommy more than once, but he always just threw himself into another activity not to.

The last time anyone saw Tommy was in a bar just before closing on Christmas Eve, 2024. Walking out into the dark streets. Alone.

After that? Total mystery. Tommy's house showed no signs of a break in, and he had gotten a ride to the bar that day, so his truck was safetly parked in his driveway. He had off on Christmas (had taken off to be with Buck) and his captain was the one to report him missing.

The police came and questioned him, wondering if he had anything to do with it. Buck had to explain their breakup, and the rest of the 118 had backed him up. Athena ended up stepping in at the end, and the investigation moved on from Buck.

Four days later, Buck had a letter from a law firm that stated that Tommy's house and all of his posessions were given to him.

It just made Buck think that maybe Tommy really had ran away?

Why did he leave everything to Buck?

Why didn't he say goodbye?

Buck chose to believe he was still alive out there somehow, he had to. Just because they were broken up, didn't mean that Buck wanted Tommy to be gone. He hoped that every new lead would lead somewhere, even when everyone else seemed to lose some faith.

There's movement and Buck wakes up to see Amelia wide awake, her head looking out of the bedroom into the living room. She jumps down and runs out, and that's when Buck notieces that the lights in the hall are on.

He knows for a fact, that he turned them off.

Buck gets up and grabs the wooden baseball bat that Tommy had in his closet and holds it carefully. After he had been given the house and Tommy's cat as well, Buck had made the decision to move in. He had been given some brows at doing so, but Buck had wanted Tommy to still have his house if he came back.

When he came back.

Amelia isn't one to be brave around strangers, so her running into a possible break in had alarmed Buck more then the hall light. Eddie had a key to Tommy's place too, but Eddie was with Chris tonight and at this late hour, they were both most likely asleep.

There's movement, louder then anything Amelia could make and Buck spots a large shadowed figure bent at his chistmas tree.

He swings the bat.

The bat smashes against the man's back and splinters.

"What-"

Amelia howls and runs away, and the figure straightens up. He's tall, as tall as Buck, and built to. The jacket he is wearing is red, with white fur on the cuffs and the lapel. There's a red hat on his head -

"Santa?" Buck asks, dumbfounded.

"For a while yeah-" Santa says, but it isn't Santa, or at least, he wasn't just Santa.

"Tommy?"

"Merry Christmas Evan."

Tommy's hands were up in the air, his blue eyes darting to the splintered bat still in Buck's hands and Buck drops it.

"What-" Buck asks and Tommy snaps his fingers and the lights come on in the living room. Buck blinks against the harshness of all the lights being on and he blinks a few times to adjust. In that time Tommy had lowered his hands, and Buck looks.

And stares.

Because it is Tommy, Buck would know his voice anywhere, along with his deep blue eyes that are looking at Buck warrily.

There's been some changes though.

For one thing, Tommy was wearing a Santa Suit. A high quality one in a rich red color that looked like it was hand made and not from a halloween store. There were sturdy black boots on his feet and a leather sack at his side, but that had only been what he was wearing. The real change had been his hair.

"You have a beard-" Buck blurts out. And it was a full beard. Salt and pepper, though a little heavier on the salt. Tommy's hair was the same, and yet he didn't look any older.

Buck had discovered a few grey hairs when they had been dating, had even imagined a future where Tommy looked like he did standing before Buck, he just expected that it would have happened in a few years.

"Comes with the job," Tommy says, rubbing at the beard. "I was told it was mandatory-"

"What the fuck?" Buck interupts, voice sharp. The shock of seeing Tommy again was quickly turning into anger.

"Please, let me explain?" Tommy asks and before Buck can answer Amelia has come back into the room and is pawing at Tommy to lift her up, and Buck notices just how exhausted Tommy looks.

"Sure-" Buck answers because once upon a time, Tommy allowed him the same and Buck can return the favor.

What comes next is a crazy tale of Tommy finding a man after he fell off the roof and the man begging him to put on his coat and finish the night. It's a story filled with impossible things like magic and elves and talking polar bears. Giant reindeer and Christmas abilities that Tommy is actually afraid of. If it was anyone else but Tommy, Buck would have believed it all to be a lie.

"-I'm just a temporary replacement," Tommy says. "I need to find the real next Santa tonight, or I'm stuck with this job and I'm not meant to be that person Evan," Tommy says warily, hand's in his magically greyed hair. Just sitting here now, Buck can see that it's more white than it had been an hour ago.

"Why did you come to me?" Buck asks. His ex-boyfriend is Santa Claus and he hasn't been dead this whole time but had been stuck in the North Pole and he had a Lawyer Elf give Buck his house and his cat because he knew they were safe with Buck, and he was on a desperate mission to find the next true Santa. He had magical gifts that he couldn't always control, a whole army of mythical creatures that shouldn't exist, and physically was almost like a Christmas super hero. He had all of this plus a deadline of Christmas morning to worry about. Buck didn't actually think Tommy needed him at all.

So why was he here?

"I told you, that I can hear what everyone wants for Christmas," Tommy says, and he taps the side of his head. "And you-" Tommy swallows and looks up at Buck, and he's looking at him like he did before they broke up, with a fondness that made Buck feel whole.

"You wanted me."

Buck's breath hitches.

He can't even deny it, not when all he wanted this whole year was for Tommy to come home.

"What happens if you can't find the new Santa?" Buck asks, changing the subject away from himself and how even over a year later, he still wanted Tommy. Tommy, thankfully, doesn't switch back to what they were talking about before.

"Then I become Santa," Tommy says, and he sounds desperate and his eyes are scared.

"Okay," Buck says and he stands up from the couch and takes Tommy's hand.

"Lets find Santa."

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 abc #my writing #not sure who to tag #happy holidays here is a tommy as actual santa #based on red one santa with a lil bit of the santa clause

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brandyllyn · 2 days ago

Text

Frostbite

Max Phillips x f!reader

Summary: By all that was holy in the world, you were going to slap the ever-loving shit out of this man. Words: 1.9k

For the #pedrostoriesgift24 Holiday Gift Exchange. @almostfoxglove asked for:

* max gets reader/character for their office's secret santa (or vice versa) * office christmas party

And y'all know I can't resist Max.

My Masterlist <- So much more Max stuff here y'all. I've missed him.

Rated: Teen Warnings: This is romantic and sweet and I make no apologies for that. Max being Max, however.

If you had to listen to George Michael complain one more time about what happened last Christmas, you were going to cause a scene.

Looking around the room, you took some small solace that no one else seemed to be having a good time either. Derek had taken up a post near the exit, obviously waiting until just enough time had passed that he could make a break for it. Malika was on her third hard cider - if she wasn’t careful she’d be the Monday morning gossip.

And the very next day, you gave it away…

You slip your phone from your pocket as surreptitiously as possible, checking the clock. Not even 6:30, there was still the speech from the CEO, the sales award, and of course the office secret Santa to get through before you could make your escape. They always saved secret Santa for last - everyone marching one by one to open their gift from the table in the center of the room. Showing everyone the mug they had been given.

It was always a mug.

The table looked extra sad this year - filled almost entirely with bags, half of which didn’t even have a festive spray of tissue. It was the laziest possible wrapping job. Nothing more clearly said ‘I put no thought into this’ than a dollar store bag, taped shut.

You had wrapped your gift. An oblong box with a festive red bow. Inside was a designer tie - one you had been lucky to find at a local thrift store. You had no idea if your giftee would like it, he ran so hot and cold you never could tell if he even liked you. Or anybody for that matter.

“Hey there sweet cheeks, looking for me?”

Speak of the devil.

“Never.”

He sidles up next to you, all long limbs and expensive cologne. His suit is perfect; crisp navy blue with a sparkly snowflake tie. As usual he stands too close, forcing you to shift slightly sideways to avoid brushing against him.

“You tease,” he pouts with a puffed out lower lip. “You’re gonna break my heart.”

Max Phillips, rising star of the sales department. Arrogant, conceited asshole and inveterate flirt. He was handsome too, which was honestly just annoying. If someone was going to be that obnoxious, they should at least look like half a roasted ham.

“I have it on good authority you don’t have one,” you point out.

He pats his chest for a moment, giving you a wounded look. “Stacey tell you that? Don’t be jealous, baby.”

“Miranda.”

He has the decency to hesitate, eyes darting across the room before back to you. “Well, someone had to be my shoulder to cry on.” You snort at that and he grins, shifting closer again and almost backing you to the wall. “And don’t worry about them, that’s business.”

You were pretty sure whatever that was you had walked in on in the copy room hadn’t been ‘business’ but you don’t point it out. Miranda hadn’t been the same, something viscerally off about her, ever since.

“You,” he leaned into you and you felt a cubicle wall at your back, “you would be nothing but pleasure wouldn’t you?”

“We are at work.”

“Most couples meet at work.”

“We’re not a couple.”

“We’re not a couple, yet.” He takes a deep breath and frowned. “You don’t take good care of yourself.”

“Excuse you?”

It came out close to a shriek, several heads turning your direction. Max gave them a dazzlingly wide smile and as one they smiled back. Even Richard, the grumpiest at the best of times, blushed. He blushed.

“You’re not eating right.”

By all that was holy in the world, you were going to slap the ever-loving shit out of this man. He wasn’t even looking at you, eyes scanning the room while he talked out of the corner of his mouth. “Dave is doing his speech,” you try to point out but Max gives you his attention long enough to roll his eyes.

“Don’t change the subject, babydoll.”

“What subject?”

Max takes the proverbial shovel you offer. “You’re gaunt. You’re not getting the right vitamins.”

“From the man who has an ‘allergy’ to sunlight.”

The grin he gives you is wolfish. “That’s documented. I have a doctor’s note.” You can’t help the small smile and of course he notices. “There now, was that so hard? I’m being charming all over the place here.”

“Why?”

The word is a hiss of air and he blinks at you, confused. “What do you mean, why?”

“You’ve fucked half the office.” You try very hard to keep your tone too low for anyone else to hear. “Am I keeping you from bingo or something?”

Another one of those deep breaths and he leans in to you, so close you think he might actually nuzzle you. “I like you.”

You snort, turning away.

“I do.” He scans the room again before he turns, blocking your view with his wide shoulders. “Look at me.”

“No.”

“Look at me.”

“I said no.”

There’s silence for several heartbeats before he admits, “You intrigue me.”

“You’re a liar.”

“All the time,” he concedes. “But not right now. There’s something for my people, a knowing of sorts…”

He trails off and you can’t help but ask, “Your people? Wasps?”

“Something like that.”

“Max Phillips!” The call of his name comes from out of the blue.

“Gotta run, sugar tits, duty calls.”

Of course he’s won the sales award. He shakes the CEO’s hand while accepting the plaque, turning and smiling - not pausing for even a moment when he realizes no one is going to take his photo. It doesn’t stop him from playing mayor of the cubicle farm, waving at a few people before stepping to the side. You notice him looking at you and studiously avoid meeting his eyes.

The secret Santa starts and you take a quick tally of how many people participated this year. Even if half the people make a fuss about it, you should be able to leave in fifteen minutes - twenty tops.

Since Max won the award he gets to go first, picking up the box you had carefully wrapped and tearing into it with the gusto of a toddler. He fingers the silk and you swear his eyes dart to where you’re standing.

There is no way he could know you’d bought it for him. No way.

“Looks like we may have a tie for best present.”

People laugh at his terrible joke and he steps to the side, letting the next person fetch their mug. You try to be surreptitious as you gauge his reaction. Does he like it? Does he think it’s tacky? With one hand he pulls off the one he’s wearing and loops the length of red silk around his collar, deftly tying a full Windsor.

It looks good on him.

Dammit.

Your name is called and you shake yourself out of your stupor, avoiding looking to the side. The present is in a bright orange bag - not even a holiday color - and stapled closed. You reach in and pull out the small bottle.

“Iron supplements.”

There’s a small scattering of applause and you stare at the offending object for so long the new HR lady has to gently move you aside.

Iron supplements.

Your secret Santa got you fucking iron supplements.

“You don’t look happy.”

The tie you so carefully picked out mocks you. You put thought into his present - and your Santa did what? Clean out their medicine cabinet? You wouldn’t be surprised if the bottle was already open.

No, you were not happy. You were fuming.

“You look pale.”

“Shut up.”

“And you’ve been having headaches lately.”

“How would you know?”

“I told you, you intrigue me.”

Something clicks and you finally look up at him, bottle clenched in your fist. “This was you?”

“You’re anemic.”

He sounds so absurdly reasonable you barely resist the urge to kick him. “You are not my doctor.”

“Do you have a doctor?”

You don’t, not that he needs to know that.

“If you did they might tell you your iron count is dangerously low. You should get checked for an autoimmune disease.”

“I do not have an autoimmune disease.” Derek shoots you a surprised look and you give him a wide smile before jerking Max’s arm and pulling him into a supply closet. “This is not appropriate. On like a hundred levels.”

“Why aren’t you taking care of yourself?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Tell me.”

“Don’t take that tone with me.” You shove a finger into his chest. “You may get other people to leap to your bidding but I’m not one of them.”

“I know,” he grins, “it’s fantastic.”

“Fantastic?” you repeat.

“Fantastic.” He’s faster that you expect, grabbing your wrist and flattening your palm to his chest. “Why aren’t you taking care of yourself?”

He sounds genuinely concerned and you deflate, giving in. “I don’t have the money for fresh food. I’m living off ramen at the moment, okay? I’ll probably develop scurvy soon.”

“We pay you a decent amount - not what you’re worth, of course - but market value.”

You don’t bother asking how he knows that. “My ex took a loan out in my name. I’ve been paying it off.”

“Why isn’t he paying it off?”

“Because he’s an asshole and I can’t make him do anything.”

“Want me to kill him for you?”

It’s said so casually you almost think he means it. “It’s fine. It’s only another year. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re going to get rickets.”

“Isn’t that what Tiny Tim had?”

He nods. “Yes, and you’ll be begging for a Christmas bonus just like he did, too.”

“I think that was his dad.”

“Which one did Kermit play?”

You scoff, trying to pull your hand away from him. “Have you only ever seen the Muppet version of a Christmas Carol?”

He doesn’t let you go. “It’s the only one worth seeing.”

“Max,” you say softly. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, for worrying about me. Even if this-” you hold up the supplements with your other hand “-is by far the worst gift I have ever gotten.”

He gifts you with that wide, easy smile of his. “Let me buy you dinner, to make up for it.”

“Sure you don’t already have a date?”

“I’d cancel any plans for you.” If you didn’t know better you’d say he was serious.

“Big words, don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.”

“I never make a promise I can’t keep.”

He’s standing close, so close your chest brushes his when you take a breath. “Max…”

Tingles shoot to your fingertips as his lips capture yours. A rush of heat floods through you and you can’t help but moan when he sinks his fingers into the back of your neck. The sound he makes is close to a growl, his mouth opening and his tongue is suddenly there, licking at the seam of your lips.

Would it be wrong to climb him like a tree in the supply closet?

He apparently has the same idea, lifting you from underneath your ass with an ease that takes your breath away. Your back is pressed to the wire shelves and his hips settle between your thighs as though he’s always belonged there. Your neck arches into the palm of his hand and he nuzzles beneath your ear.

“Take your damn iron pills.”

“What?”

“Your iron,” his teeth scrape along your jaw, “and maybe a multi-vitamin too.”

You were going to slap him. Just soon as your head stopped spinning from his kiss.

For updates on stories please follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

Tagging in @almostfoxglove once more. Hope you liked your Max.

#max phillips #max philips x reader #pedrostoriesgift24 #pedrostories #it christmas!#merr christmas

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araybiaaa · 1 day ago

Note

Can you write Rafe and Sofia having sex on Christmas? Like she decides to surprise him with one last present but instead it’s her in red lingerie that makes her look like she’s a Christmas present and she asks him to unwrap her?

“𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

 It’s almost eleven o’clock when they finally return home from her parents’ Christmas party. A frigid breeze brushing through the oversized trench coat that she’s wearing, sends a shiver down her spine and has her scooting closer towards Rafe, seeking out his body’s warmth as she patiently waited for him to open the door.

He inserts the key inside of the keyhole and twists it until the doorknob loosens and it clicks open.

Sofia sighs softly in relief when she walks inside and is immediately shrouded in a comforting warmth. She sets her purse aside as Rafe approached her from behind, wrapping his arm around her waist. She smiles, settling comfortably in his embrace as she leaned her head against his chest and splayed her hand over his.

“Did you have fun tonight?”

Rafe’s neck declined as he leaned down to her leveled height. He brushed his lips over her neck and shoulder, kissing softly at the exposed skin as he nodded his head. “Mhm. It took nearly two and a half years but I think your dad has finally started to warm up to me,”

Sofia chuckles softly, reminiscing on a few hours ago where she spotted her father and Rafe seated together on the couch watching a football game. She and her mother were in the kitchen finishing up the last minute preparations for dinner when they both heard a loud clamor that was accompanied by sports verbiage that fell ignorant to Sofia’s ears.

When she peeked her head around the corner to make sure there wasn’t anything wrong, she was surprised to see the two of them exclaiming their disbelief at whatever call the referee just made. And when her father stood to his feet to grab another beer from the kitchen, both Rafe and Sofia were surprised when he offered to bring Rafe one back too.

Usually, her father preferred to keep any conversations and interactions between him and Rafe as minimal as possible. He didn’t fully trust Rafe, given who his father was and wasn’t too keen on Sofia dating (and then becoming engaged to—) him but he always tolerated him as much as necessary for Sofia’s sake. She wasn’t exactly sure what the reason was for her father’s sudden shift in behavior towards him, but she was glad that he’d taken an initiative in trying to get along with Rafe a little better especially now that he was about to become apart of their family.

“I don’t know what you did, but it looks like you’ve actually managed to charm him into liking you.”

This time it’s Rafe who chuckles as his hands abandon their perch on her waist so that he’s able to shrug her coat off of her shoulders. “I told you, this face can charm anybody, baby,” He jests, much to Sofia’s amusement as she playfully rolls her eyes.

He kisses her, leaning over her shoulder to capture her lips over his while his hands still shrugged the coat off of her body. She shivers, feeling the coldness of his fingers against the contrast of her warm skin when he brushes them over her stomach as the coat slides off of her shoulders, falling absentmindedly to the floor.

“Your fingers are freezing,” She admonishes, but only halfhearted in her complaint as she continues indulging in the way his fingers moved against her. They maneuvered underneath her shirt and the underwire of her bra, where he cups her breast in his hand and teasingly grazed his thumb over the sensitive flesh of her nipple.

His breath is hot against her skin as he huffs airily, “Wanna warm them up for me then?” He coquettishly suggests, nipping at her neck again while his other hand deftly popped open the button on her jeans and tugged at the zipper.

His left hand slides beneath the waistband of her underwear as her pants loosen around her hips. He nudged his nose against hers, swallowing every mewl that she keens breathily into his mouth. He kissed her deeply, pushing his tongue into her mouth — relishing at the desperation of her trying to catch his tongue between her lips.

Her skin prickles with goosebumps from the coldness of his fingers and at the anticipation of pleasure that’s to come. The palm of his hand glides down until he’s caught at the center of her cunt; he brushes through the coils of hair, already feeling the wetness of her arousal drenching his fingers as he spreads her open.  Sofia bites on her lower lip, falling mercilessly against his chest as he gently stroked her.

He teases her labia first, running his forefinger and middle finger in oscillating circles around her clitoris as he gathered her slickness. He penetrates his fingers deeper, flexing them in a curl as he sought out her g-spot — feeling the tightness of her cunt convulsing wantonly around his fingers. “Are they warm enough now?” He murmurs, adding to the stimulation as he squeezes at her tender breast.   Sofia lets out a choked up sob, nodding her head as she ground her hips against his palm.

Rafe slowly withdraws his fingers all the way out, sliding them up across her clit. Then, he’s working himself inside of her again — pressing upward with his fingers and nudging a bit deeper in his penetration. And it’s so overwhelming that Sofia has to curl her hand around his wrist to anchor herself for leverage. “R-Rafe!”

He thumbs at her nipple again, feeling it go taut from his touch. She whimpers, reaching her hand back to grab at his head as she deepens the kiss. It’s filthy, with both of their teeth clashing and salvia passing messily back and forth between their mouths, and from this angle he’s mostly kissing the bottom of her lip and chin but he doesn’t deter away from embrace.

It’s a work of tandem; one hand fondled her tits while the other continued its onslaught on her quim, fingering her until he feels the his fingers swell around her. She emanates a high whine; arching her back as she feels her orgasm shroud her. The tension in her muscles alleviate as she succumbs to her orgasm, her fingers loosen from his wrist and her chest heaves as she lulls from the exertion.   She turns around in his arms, greedily seeking out his mouth for another kiss. Their hands work in a frenzied tandem as they began to discard his clothing. Rafe lifts his arms above his head as Sofia hurriedly tugs off the knitted sweater that he was wearing, leaving him shirtless.

They kiss again as they maneuver their way towards the sofa, inadvertently knocking over the pile of books that were on the coffee table and a lamp her mother gifted them for Christmas last year.

Rafe squeezes her ass through her jeans, dragging her body on top of his as he eased himself down atop of the soft cushions. “Wait,” She murmurs, licking her kiss-swollen lips after wetly prying her mouth from his. “I have a surprise for you,” Rafe blinks, taken aback by the proclamation but raises his eyebrows in sudden amusement.

“Yeah?”

She nods, pecking his lips. “Light up the fireplace, lay a blanket down on the floor and lose the rest of your clothes.” She averred in between kisses, watching as Rafe alerted at her seductive domination.

“Fuck,” He whimpered, nodding his head. “O-Okay,”

“I’ll be right back.” Sofia says, giving him one last parting kiss before she’s clambering shakily to her feet. She’d gotten so distracted that she nearly forgot about the Christmas present that she had planned on surprising him with when they returned home from her parents.   She usually doesn’t prefer lingerie, but when she was out shopping for Christmas gifts and saw this little three piece set in the display window when she passed by the Victoria’s Secret store she knew that she had to buy it.

Walking into their bedroom, she goes into their walk-in closet and rummages through the back where she kept the bag hidden from Rafe’s view. She removes the remainder of her clothing, shimming her pants and underwear off of her hips and unlatched the hooked strap of her bra as it falls off of her shoulders.  

…

  “Are you ready?” She asks from the top of the stairs, biting back a smile when she peered over the banister and saw him laid out nakedly on top of the blanket with his arms tucked behind his head. He almost looked like something out of one of those ancient paintings, laid there naked and handsome with a fire lit behind him — casting a soft halo across his chiseled and taut features.

Rafe nods, resting himself up on his elbows as he looked towards the stairs. “Naked and ready,” He concurred, listening to her approaching footsteps as she descended down the stairway.

She feels a warm blush color her cheeks as she watched Rafe’s eyes widen at the sight of her.

Standing athwart from him; Sofia was clad in an open cup underwire 3-piece peek-a-boo bra set that included panties with an open gusset & back and had adjustable shoulder & garter straps. The red narrow galloon lace and elastic material perfectly accentuated her breast and lithe curves.

“Do you like it?” She asks, still blushing as she stood beneath Rafe’s smothering gaze. His eyes had yet to waver away from her body as he sat there mesmerized at the sight of her.

“Do I like it?” He huffs incredulously, shaking his head as he reaches a hand outwardly towards her and grabbed at her wrist. “Are you kidding me? Sof, you look so fucking hot words can’t even begin to describe exactly how I’m feeling right now,”

She smiles, biting on her lower lip as she allowed Rafe to tug her down onto his lap. Her arms seek purchase around his shoulders as she straddles him. She scoots herself further on his lip, feeling his half-stout cock brushing against her ass. “I’m glad you like your present. Now you get to unwrap me and play with me,” She murmurs, barely getting the remainder of her sentence out before Rafe’s sliding his mouth over hers again.

He’s needy with his kisses, slacking his jaw wider as he chased after her lips. Sofia’s reciprocating the vigor of emotions that he’s pouring into them — mewling softly in mouth as she arches her body further into his touch. Rafe’s hands tug down the straps of her underwire bra first, pulling it down until her breasts spill out of the barrier.

He holds a secure grip around her waist before he switches their positions to where she’s now sprawled out on top of the blanket. He imprints a kiss against her chest before diverting his attention. He laps his tongue around her left nipple while his hand fondled with the right. Her eyelashes flutter softly in content as her hands brushed against his neck holding him against her.

He mouths at her skin again, kissing down her abdomen until he makes his way to the waistband of her panties. Rafe averts his lidded eyes up at her, watching her with a smothering heed as he lowered his mouth to her cunt. Sofia whimpers, exhaling a sigh of pleasure when she feels the warmth of his mouth licking her through the thin fabric.

It’s good, but it’s nowhere near enough.

And she wants to vocalize this complaint, but she knew she couldn’t interrupt him while he was enjoying unwrapping his present. (Even if he was choosing to do so at such a tortuous pace.) So, she purses her lips and instead indulged in the way he mouthed at her clothed cunt.

She feels his fingers unlatching the straps of the garter, loosening them from around her thighs. He tugs at her panties; her hips arch off of the floor to aide him as he pulled them over her waist and down her thighs until she’s left completely nude.

“I swear you get more beautiful every time I look at you,” He compliments, meeting her mouth in another slow kiss.

He adjusts his position as he lowered himself halfway on top of her. He huddles a hand beneath her thigh, suavely hefting her leg over his hip as he pulled her body down a bit so that their pelvises are aligned. Reaching in between their bodies, Rafe grabs ahold of his cock.

He breathes ruggedly through his nostrils and looked down at her as he slowly began to stretch her open.

All it takes is one stroke until he’s caught at her entrance. She’s so wet that it makes it an easy intrusion. A trembling breath catches in both of their throats at the friction, her hands round his shoulders again, anchoring herself as Rafe leveled his hips and filled her full of his cock. It’s perfect how she accommodates to his girth and how her cunt swallows down every inch of his cock without resistance.

Rafe’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the lewd sight of their intermingling fluids slicking his cock. He nudges himself further, rolling his pelvis against hers until he’s finally curled against her hilt. “Fuck,” He grunts, his skin already slick and flushed as sweat gathered along his hairline. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, his breath is hot against her skin as he exhaled labored breaths.

“Baby,” Sofia croons, feeling her quim flutter around him. He bids them both a moment’s adjustment before he angles his hips as he withdraws from inside her until he’s nearly slipping out entirely. Then, in one oscillating motion, he’s fucking himself back into her warmth feeling the welcoming tug of her cunt fluttering around him.

The sweet smell of their sex fills the air.

Their sweaty skin grinding against each other’s ricocheted throughout the room.

The heat from the fireplace and the heat from their bodies burned between them like a furnace. Sofia’s hands brushed at his neck again, an open invite for him to lean down to kiss her again. She sighs, full of him and full of content as the blanket rustled beneath her while they made love.

Her hands slide down the curve of his back, feeling the dip of his muscles beneath her fingertips. Rafe rolls his hips, deepening his strokes as he lingered against her.

“Jesus, Sof,” He groans, guttural and throaty at the clench of her cunt that entraps his cock.

He feels dizzy off of her, like this, and the way her body instinctively reacts to his. She feels fucking perfect; so wet and tight with her cunt throbbing and clenching around his cock like he’s made solely for the reason of being inside of her. She’s close; he can tell by the way her breathing quickens and how her fingers twist around the blankets. And he’s thankful for it because with the way his balls are tightening, he knows his orgasm is on the precipice too.

Rafe slides his hand underneath her ass, pulling her closer until he’s practically pressing all of his weight onto her. He fucks himself into her slow and steady, hitting her g-spot in precision. His mouth rests by the shell of her ear, he grunts and groans, nearly a blubbering mess as he expresses a litany of “I love you,” repeatedly and in accordance to the heft of his thrusts.

It doesn’t take much longer until she falls apart completely the moment he presses his thumb against her swollen clit. She’s shivering, her mouth hanging agape, hands still clutching at his shoulders when she finally cums. Rafe fucks her through it, riding her through aftershocks of her orgasm as he milks her dry. And feels so good that Sofia actually begins to cry. There’s a tug in her lower abdomen, her toes curl and fingers decorate his back with territorial markings as he plummeted inside of her. He’s unrelenting in his thrusts — extracting and filling her back up with this irreplaceable pleasure that has her back bowing every time he rolls his hips up to hers.

His face is contorted and his eyebrows furrow in concentration. He lifts her right leg over his shoulder, shifting his hips lower and fucking her with more vigor. His vision blurs as his thrusts become more languid. “Can I?” He pleads, feeling relief sheath through him as Sofia nods her permission.

Rafe kisses her as he succumbs to his own orgasm, coming hotly inside of her. He slumps over, lying against her breasts as he hauls down from his arousal.

He’s still laid out on top of her when they’ve both recovered, one hand’s running down his sweaty back while the other brushed against his neck. Rafe chuckled softly as he shook his head, “I don’t know what I did to deserve that, but that was the second best gift I’ve ever gotten.” He pulls out when his cock softens, groaning softly as he lays out on the blanket beside her.

“Second best?”

Rafe smirks as he reaches down and grabs ahold of her hand, kissing her knuckles. “Being with you will always be the first,”

She smiles, shaking her head as she craned her neck upward for a kiss. “There’s that Rafe Cameron charm again,” She murmurs in a tease, feeling the curve of his lips tug in a mirthful smile against her mouth.

“It’s how I got you,” He remarks, coquettishly, handling a grip on her waist as he tugged her body closer towards his again. “Was that just a one time present or can I request you wearing that again for my birthday?”

Sofia pulls away from the kiss, licking her lips as she shrugged. “I don’t think I’ll be able to fit in it for me to wear for you on your birthday,” She says, watching as a confused look furrowed his face.

“What do you mean?”

Sofia gave him an apprehensive look. “Well, I have another surprise for you…” She grabs ahold of Rafe’s hand and lowers it on her stomach. She chews on her lower lip, feeling her heartbeat quicken as she laid there waiting for his reaction.

Rafe blinked rapidly, alternating his eyes between her face and her stomach before the realization finally dawned upon him. His eyes widen, “You’re…?”

Sofia nods, exhaling a trembling breath as she feels the back of her eyes burn with tears. “I am.” She concurs, “Remember when I kept throwing up and we thought that it was just food poisoning or a stomach bug? Well, I went to the doctor and he decided to run a pregnancy test and it came out positive. I’ve known for a few weeks now, but I wanted to surprise you. Baby… please say something.”

Rafe looks at her in disbelief, blinking through his own fogged vision. “You’re…pregnant?” He asks, his voice catches in his throat as he chokes up a bit. And when she nods again, his lip trembles as he smiles. He grabs at her hand and he pulls her into a hug. He sits them both upright, pressing kisses into Sofia’s hair as he holds her against him.

“We’re having a baby?” He’s unable to contain his mirth as he bombards her with face and mouth with kisses.

Sofia giggles against his mouth, nodding her head. “We’re having a baby!”

Rafe pulls away from the kiss, looking at her with a profound awe and enamor lidding in his eyes. “We’re having a baby,” He murmurs softly, shaking his head. “This makes so much makes sense now. I was wondering why I haven’t seen you drink any wine lately and why your tits felt so good. I mean they always feel good but they felt amazing tonight,”

Sofia rolls her eyes and laughs, holding her hand over his as he caressed her stomach. Her smile sages when he sobers, she looked up at Rafe noticing the contemplative expression marring his face. She doesn’t have to ask to know what was bothering him. She knows him well enough to know that his mind’s wandering erratically with self deprecating thoughts about him not being a good father.

“I’m scared, Sof.” He admits, almost reluctantly in his confession. “I mean, I’m so fucking happy, but I’m also terrified.”

She nods her head in understanding, all too empathetic of his feelings. It was the same reaction she had when she found out as well. This pregnancy wasn’t planned by any means, they’ve always talked about wanting to start a family in the future so her sudden pregnancy did astonish them both. They weren’t even married yet and there were still so much planning that she had to do for it, and she’d just found her footing at the art school that she just started teaching at, but the thought of a baby — a perfect little mixture of both her and Rafe’s genes, had diminished her worries.

She knows what kind of person that Rafe is, and how he loves with everything in him whenever he cares about a person. He’s proven that every day for the past two and a half years that they’ve been together.

So, she doesn’t doubt for one second that he wouldn’t reciprocate that same affection and care for their baby. It was okay for him to be scared because she held enough strength to believe in him for the both of them.   “I know, baby.” She nods, “It’s okay. But just know that we’re in this together, okay? And I know that no matter what happens, you’ll be a great father.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” She accents, reassuringly as she wraps her arms around him in a hug. He kisses her shoulder then neck, retracting away from the embrace so that he’s able to fully kiss her lips again.

“I love you,” He whispers soft and adoringly, before lowering his eyes to her stomach, “and I love you too,” His face blanches again at a sudden realization. “We’re gonna have to move the wedding date up. Your dad just started to like me if he found out that I got you pregnant before we got married, he’s going to kill me.”

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xmads-omensx · 2 days ago

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Word Count: 1,251

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader

Content Warnings: talks of loneliness, depression, not feeling good enough

Summary: Y/N didn't enjoy her birthday but can't figure out why. Noah helps her as she deals with the pain she feels.

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lacy1986 @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland

My birthday was rapidly approaching and I hadn’t given it much thought.

I never really did.

Usually, I would go out for dinner with my best friends, but that was no longer an option since our friendship had ended.

Sure, I was glad they were out of my life since they had caused me so much pain, but it still hurt.

I tried to push it out of my mind as the months drew on. It worked.

Noah wasn’t a huge birthday guy, so the conversation never came up which I was grateful for.

I had completely forgotten about the matter of my birthday until it was only a week away and I still didn’t have any plans.

Noah had bought me theatre tickets for a showing of Six at two pm on my birthday, but had only told me so that I could plan around it.

Obviously, I was excited for that, but there was still something missing.

In the past, it was my two best friends who organised where we went for dinner so that it was still a surprise, but that wouldn’t be the case this year.

My heart hurt as I thought about it, but I pushed it away once again.

I didn’t need that pain.

I didn’t need their bullshit.

Not anymore

I was noticeably happier without them.

Granted, it had taken me some time to get there, but I got there.

Noah was by my side every step of the way and I couldn’t be more grateful.

My birthday rolled around in what felt like minutes and before I knew it, Noah was zipping up the back of my dress as we got ready to leave for the theatre.

It was nice spending time with him like this.

It felt domestic.

Noah would deny it, but he loved the show.

I could see him lip syncing along to the words that he knew as he watched the talented women on the stage perform the brilliant soundtrack.

“Best birthday gift ever.” I said to him as we walked back to his car after the show ended.

“You deserve it, my love.” He replied, kissing the top of my head affectionately before opening the passenger side door for me.

The drive home was quiet.

A nice quiet.

The kind that feels easy.

It stayed that way for the rest of the day until Jesse returned home and started singing Christmas songs, which was not at all out of character for the strange man.

It made me smile.

Noah ordered pizza for our dinner, which we ate as we re-watched Attack on Titan for what felt like the hundredth time, but I would never complain about that.

Falling back into our routine, we snuck up to bed when Jolly and Jesse joined us on the sofa.

Noah undressed into his boxers, and I changed into one of his shirts, leaving on my cotton panties.

We both climbed into bed, with Noah instinctively pulling me into his chest.

“Goodnight.” He whispered with a kiss to the top of my head.

“Goodnight, pumpkin.” I whispered back.

Noah tilted his head down to place a kiss on my lips before drifting off to sleep.

I soon found out that I would not receive the same luxury.

My birthday felt incomplete.

Sure, the day wasn’t over yet, but something felt… missing. Like that feeling you get when you feel like you’ve forgotten something.

It felt like I was stood in a dark room without a torch. Not pitch black, but too dark to see everything.

It was a strange feeling.

Deciding that my quest for sleep was futile, I retreated back to the kitchen and made myself some chamomile tea. That usually helped me sleep.

I grabbed the book that I had been reading off of the coffee table and snuggled down to read. Surely that would make my eyes tired enough to fall asleep.

The narrative was comforting, but not helpful in my mission for sleep.

If anything, it was making my problem worse.

I just felt… alone.

Footsteps in the hallway pulled me out of my trance as I looked up and saw Noah standing there rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“What’re you doing up?” He grumbled.

“Couldn’t sleep.” I replied with a whisper.

“Selfish. You know I can’t sleep when you’re gone.” Noah mumbled, crawling on top of me and snuggling into my neck, making me laugh.

“I’m sorry bub.” I replied.

“Seriously though, what’s up?” He asked.

Noah always knew when something was wrong.

“I’m not sure.” I replied.

He gave me a confused look, so I explained how I was feeling.

“Maybe it’s because it’s your first birthday without Lily and Jay?” He suggested.

Then it all fell into place.

That was exactly it.

The two of them had always celebrated my birthday with me.

They had since we were five years old.

Noah reached up to brush a tear off of my cheek that I hadn’t realised had fallen.

“Baby, it’s okay, you’ve been functioning perfectly without them for a while now. You can get through this.” He said comfortingly, but it didn’t help.

I pushed him off of me and sat up.

“I just feel so lonely.” I whispered.

“You’re not lonely.” He said. “You have me, Jesse, Jolly, Folio and the rest of the guys. They’re your friends, they’ll always be there for you. And you know damn well you’ve always got me.”

“But they’re not my friends!” I exclaimed, suddenly angry at Noah. “They are your friends, Noah, not mine!”

Silence encased the living room.

“Baby, I’m sorry for yelling.” I said after a moment.

“Don’t be sorry.” Noah said, walking towards me. “Never be sorry.”

He pulled me into a tight hug.

Tears began to spill down my face.

“It’s just so lonely without them.” I sobbed into his warm, bare chest.

Noah didn’t say anything, just rocked me back and forth as I cried.

My heart yearned for an easier time when my birthday was something filled with friends. But today it had just felt empty.

“Let’s head back to bed.” Noah whispered after a few minutes.

I nodded.

He gently placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me up to our shared bedroom and closed the door behind us.

I immediately gravitated to the bed in the middle of the room and curled up beneath the covers that smelled like Noah before he pulled me into his chest.

“I know you miss them, but it will get easier.” Noah began. “I promise you that you will feel less lonely as you readjust to life without them. It will get easier baby.”

I didn’t know how to reply, so I just looked up at him.

He smiled softly at me before placing a loving kiss on my lips and pulling me back into his chest.

“Sleep well, my love, and dream of me.” He whispered.

“Ew.” I replied.

“Did you just fucking say ew?” He asked, shocked.

I giggled.

“Oh that’s funny is it?” He said tauntingly.

I nodded my head.

“Oh I see how it is. You want war? I’ll fucking give you war idiot.” He said, before tickling my sides, making me cry out with laughter.

“There’s that laugh.” Noah sighed, pulling me back into his chest.

“I love you.” I whispered, kissing his bare chest.

“I love you more.” Noah whispered, kissing the top of my head.

Suddenly, I didn’t feel as lonely anymore.

#madsy says shit sometimes ig?#fanfic #noah sebastian bad omens #bad omens #noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #noah bad omens #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian comfort

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c-e-d-dreamer · 1 day ago

Text

You Can See It With The Lights Out

A/N: Happy Nessian Swiftmas! And happy whatever holiday (or simply day off work) you are celebrating today! @unhealthyfanobsession may have broken all of our hearts with her Nessian Swiftmas fic, but I'm here to balance it out with some absolutely tooth rotting fluff inspired by Ms. Swift's You Are In Love

Read on AO3 // Nessian Swiftmas

Realistically, Nesta knows that this makes the most sense. She knows that driving downtown and dealing with the traffic is bad enough without the additional headache that comes with parking. She knows that even on the best day you're lucky to find a garage with space available, and it's near impossible to find one that doesn't cost twenty dollars minimum.

Still, she feels almost strange sitting in the back seat of an Uber, rather than the comfort of her own car. Feels strange sitting on the Metro and allowing it to carry her from all the way at the end of the line to downtown. It feels even more strange stepping inside the large office building that Cassian's security firm calls home.

The building management has already decorated the space for the season, a large tree stretching toward the ceiling in the corner, wrapped in red ribbon and with large, silver baubles hanging among the greenery. Perfectly square and wrapped gifts litter the space beneath the tree, and Nesta is confident every single box is probably empty.

The last and only time she's ever stepped inside this building, the lobby was practically bustling with people going to and from lunch, but now, it's practically a ghost town. With the way the sun has already set outside, it's extra eerie walking across the space, the sound of Nesta's heeled boots on the marble floor resounding loudly around her.

"Nes!"

Nesta has to press her lips together to hold back the fond smile threatening to pull free at the sound of that stupid nickname. He's forever the only one she allows to get away with it. She looks toward the sound of that voice just in time to watch Cassian step away from the elevators, his hand raised in an easy wave. She quickly makes her way over to him, only half hearing whatever Cassian says to the security officer sitting behind the lobby's front desk.

When Nesta reaches Cassian, her eyes sweep over his frame, taking in the dark green button down he's wearing, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows so that the muscles and veins of his forearms are on full display, the starting lines of dark ink that Nesta knows stretch further up his arms and across his chest peeking out beneath the fabric. His hair is scraped back away from his face and piled atop his head, but a few dark, curly strands have fallen free and tumble in all which direction, a sign Nesta knows means it's been a stressful day for him.

"You're not ready."

"I know. I'm sorry," Cassian tells her, capturing her hand in both his and bringing it up to his lips, pressing an apologetic kiss to her knuckles. "I just have one more thing to get done today. I promise."

Nesta hums, but it's hard for to stay annoyed when Cassian's hands are so warm against her own, calluses familiar and comforting where they slide against her skin. Hard to stay annoyed when she can see that soft smile of his hiding behind her hand where he still holds it to his mouth. Hard to stay annoyed when those hazel eyes are pinned solely on her, the gold flecks of them seeming to twinkle.

"One more?" Nesta asks, raising an eyebrow.

"One more."

Cassian presses the button to call the elevator back and gestures for Nesta to step inside first when the doors open. He's always doing that, like he's some sort of southern charm gentleman. It had taken Nesta by surprise when she first met him. Sometimes, it still takes her by surprise even now.

He doesn't quite make sense to her. She's never understood how he can be so patient when the scars from her mother, from Tomas, run so deep. Never understood how when she feels spiteful and unworthy that he swears she's something precious. Never understood how her scowl can make him grin, how her rolling eyes can be his favorite.

Sometimes, she thinks he must be a dream, that she'll wake up and find herself alone and cold in a bed of tattered, old sheets. Sometimes, she holds her breath and waits for him to change his mind, for him to realize the thrill of the chase has worn off, for him to turn and walk away. But then he'll look at her with that slow, soft grin, that flickering spark simmering amongst the greens and golds of his hazel eyes.

He'll look at her with that one look meant just for her, and everything else will go quiet.

The elevator doors open with a ding on the sixth floor, and Nesta follows Cassian down the hallway and to his corner office. He steps over to his desk in the center of the room, gathering up a stack of papers and what appears to be a blueprint of some kind. With his arms full, he heads back toward the office door, but he pauses long enough to press a kiss to Nesta's cheek before he vanishes down the office hallway again.

Nesta rolls her eyes at the overly sweet gesture, but she turns her attention to Cassian's office while she waits for him to return, noting the perfectly straight, military handwriting on the whiteboard. Her fingers trail across the wood as she steps around his desk, her breath catching when she sees the framed photos neatly lined there. There's a photo of Cassian with an arm thrown easily around each of his brothers, but there's also a photo of… her.

She recognizes it from back in October, from when they went to the local pumpkin patch. Cassian has his arms draped around her shoulders, his chin propped on the crown of her head. His grin is wide enough that his eyes are closed, crinkles popping at the corners of them. Nesta's own lips are pinched, but even through the camera lens, she can see the dusting of pink across her own cheeks. A heat she can feel echoing across her face now at knowing he keeps this photo on his desk.

"Okay, done," Cassian announces, stepping back inside the office.

"Why would you choose this photo for your office?" Nesta asks, pointing toward the frame.

"I love that photo."

Cassian grabs his coat, sliding his arms through and taking a moment to do up the buttons. He grabs his scarf next, but rather than put it on, he steps into Nesta's space. He hooks the scarf around her neck, looping the knot and offering her a wink.

"We both know how you're always cold, sweetheart."

He slides his hand into hers, linking their fingers, and leads them out of his office and back toward the elevators. As they walk, Nesta can't help but turn her face into the fabric of the scarf, breathing in the familiar pine scent of Cassian's cologne. It's a comfort, having his scent, his warmth, wrapped around her as surely as the hand cradling her palm.

It's only a few blocks to H Street and the Solstice market stretched along the road there, but Nesta still presses close to Cassian, determine to leech as much warmth as she can from his large body. The lights come into view first, sparkling fairy lights strung across the different white tents that make up the vendor booths, curled around the trunks of the trees lining the sidewalks. There's even what appears to be a large Solstice star at the other end of the market. It's like stepping into a snow globe.

It's the smell that hits Nesta next, sugary sweet and chocolaty, the distinct smell of gingerbread. It already has her mouth watering, her eyes darting around the booths to find the source when they properly step inside the market.

They weave through the people and the booths until a vendor selling handcrafted accessories catches Nesta's eye. She drops Cassian's hand so that she can step inside the booth, leaning in and tilting her head so that she can examine the different jewelry pieces on display. The pair of sunflower earrings would make a perfect gift for Elain.

"What do you think, Nes?"

Nesta looks up at the question only to find Cassian now standing next to her with a knitted mask pulled over his head. A knitted mask meant to resemble a husk of corn, his eyes peeking out from holes in the yellow pattern and a few strands of his dark hair pushing through the gaps and sticking up alongside the green yarn husk around his ears.

"What are you wearing?"

It's hard to tell fully with the knitted mask, but Nesta is confident that Cassian is smirking at her. "What? Aren't you feeling corny?"

"I'm going to walk out of here and pretend I don't know you."

"We could make a corno together. It would be hot. What do you say?"

Nesta shakes her head fondly at his antics, but there's no stopping the amused snort that escapes, no fighting the way the corners of her lips tug up of their own accord. Cassian finally tugs the atrocious knitted mask off with a wide grin of his own, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes and off his forehead. He vanishes to return the mask from wherever he got it, Nesta picking up the sunflower earrings to purchase them for Elain.

When she steps out of the booth, carefully tucking the small, brown bag with the earrings in her purse, she finds Cassian already waiting for her. He holds his hand out toward her, making a big show of wiggling his finger expectantly. Nesta happily slips her hand back into his, but Cassian frowns, bringing their joined hands up to his mouth and pressing his lips against her knuckles.

"Your hands are freezing, sweetheart."

Nesta wants to remind him that they're outside, at night, in December, but Cassian merely turns on his heel and continues walking through the market, pulling Nesta along by their joined hands. He comes to a stop at another of the booths, and Nesta has to swallow down a moan of delight at the unmistakable and delectable smell, at the red looping letters on the sign.

"Two hot chocolates please," Cassian requests from the booth vendor. "One with marshmallows and extra whipped cream and one with cinnamon."

With a smile and a nod, the vendor starts to prepare their drinks, Nesta tugging open her purse and reaching for her wallet.

"Don't even think about it."

Nesta freezes, turning her head enough that she can peer up at Cassian, but he merely keeps a single eyebrow raised until she lets her purse drop back to her side. It's still hard sometimes, to let go of the ghosts that cling and whisper in the back of her mind. To ignore the words that remind her there's no such thing as handouts, that demand she always pays for herself.

The vendor sets down two to-go cups in front of them, Cassian easily pulling out his wallet from his back pocket and paying for their drinks. Nesta is all too happy to reach forward and take hers, sighing at the warmth that seeps through the cardboard and into her hands. She dares to take a small sip, the sweet taste of chocolate and whipped cream blooming across her tongue despite the heat of the drink.

She and Cassian step outside the line of booths, away from the hustle and bustle of the people still moving through the market, to enjoy their respective drinks. It's almost peaceful, standing beneath the twinkling fairy lights, the upbeat instrumentals of a holiday song drifting from the booths on the breeze. With the warmth of Cassian beside her, his scarf still wrapped around her neck, and the hot chocolate cradled between her palms, Nesta almost doesn't mind the cold.

"Look up," Cassian requests, his voice soft and low. Nesta does as he ask, her shoulder brushing against his own as she does, sending goosebumps ricocheting from that spot of contact. "Do you see those three stars there? That's Enalius' belt. With the city lights, you can't see more than his belt, but up in the mountains, you can see the whole constellation."

Nesta's eyes trace the three stars, the slight arch they cut across the sky. "I'll be sure to add trip to the mountains to my bucket list."

"I have a cabin up there. Well, a family one. We should plan a trip to it in the new year."

"Me? In a cabin? In the mountains?"

"I think you'd like it. You could curl up with a big, fluffy blanket and your book while a fire crackles in the fireplace and snow falls outside."

Nesta hums, smiling softly at the picture he paints. "That does sound nice."

"I'd make sure I chop all the wood for us too. I bet you'd really like that."

"Shirtless?"

Cassian laughs at that, the sound as warm and soothing where it settles in Nesta's veins as the hot chocolate she sips. "You drive a hard bargain, Nes."

He wraps his free arm around her waist, tugging her closer and into his body. Nesta tilts her head up to meet his gaze, tracking the way the fairy lights, the moonlight catch in the hazel of his eyes. The softness in his expression, the return of that smile of his, has Nesta's heart tripping over itself in her chest, has her leaning into him even more. And when he tips his head down and kisses her, right there on the sidewalk, she thinks that this might just be what true happiness feels like. ~ * * * ~

They stay at the Solstice market a while longer, enjoying the different foods and sweets and booths, before walking back to Cassian's office building. They take the elevators down instead of up this time, Cassian leading the way through the parking garage and to his truck. He makes sure to open the passenger door for Nesta, waiting for her to settle before closing it and jogging around to the driver's side.

Solstice music plays softly from the speakers when Cassian turns on his truck, providing a quiet soundtrack as he drives them out of the parking garage. He cranks up the heat and turns all of the air vents in Nesta's direction as he turns onto the main road, his hand settling on her knee while downtown fades in the rear-view mirror.

Nesta rests her head against her seat, closing her eyes for just a moment. She swears that the way Cassian's thumb slides back and forth across her knee matches the slow and steady beat of her heart. She swears that his own heart beats in time with hers, tying them together as surely as a golden thread twining between their ribs. She swears that she can feel it then, on the drive back to Cassian's apartment. Can feel it in the comforting warmth that settles all the way down to her soul, that's wrapped in the cab of this truck.

When they step inside Cassian's apartment, Cassian takes off his coat and kicks off his shoes before he vanishes into his bedroom, still humming the last Solstice song that had played on the radio before he'd shut off his truck. Nesta shakes her head fondly and takes the time to peel off each of her own layers, hanging them on the hooks beside Cassian's front door.

She follows behind Cassian, but he moves out of the bedroom as soon as she steps inside, already having changed into a worn pair of grey sweatpants. His hands slide across her waist as he passes her, lingering just a moment longer than they probably need to, as though he simply always needs to be touching her. Even with the heat of that touch, the heat that seeps from his palms and beneath her skin, a shiver still skitters up Nesta's spine, and she has to bite her lip around a smile.

She moves further into Cassian's bedroom, but no matter how many time Cassian assures her, no matter how many times she's stood exactly here, Nesta still needs to take a moment. She still needs to close her eyes and breathe. She still needs to remind herself that with Cassian, there's no expectation, no obligation or guilt when it isn't met like before him. That she can finally let go of her fears and her ghosts.

Breathing deeply and letting out a soft sigh, Nesta shakes her head. She walks over to Cassian's dresser, tugging open the middle drawer and rooting around until she finds a long sleeved henley, the blue fabric soft between her fingers. She changes into it, the hem hitting halfway down her thighs and the sleeves hanging well past her hands. It's as warm and comforting as Cassian's scarf, even if it smells more like his laundry detergent than him.

She shoves the sleeves up to bunch around her wrists and returns to the main room of Cassian's apartment. The man in question has his back to her, standing at the kitchen counter. She can't quite hear with the distance between them, but Nesta is sure that he's still humming to himself. Can see it in the way his head bobs, the way his hips sway. In those sweats he's wearing, Nesta can't help but shamelessly stare at his ass as he moves, at the way his back muscles work as he prepares whatever is in front of him.

"Enjoying the view, sweetheart?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

Cassian laughs easily at that, and Nesta finds herself smiling right alongside him. She grabs the blanket off the back of the sofa, wrapping it around herself and settling down against the cushions. Cassian comes padding over to her, a mug in each of his hands, one of which he holds out for her.

"Your coffee, made just the way you like it."

Nesta takes the mug with a soft, grateful hum, clasping the warm porcelain between her palms. She takes a deep breath of the steam rising from the liquid, daring to bring the mug to her lips and take the smallest of sips despite the heat. Cassian sets his own mug of what Nesta knows is chamomile tea down on the low coffee table and plops down on the sofa as well. He wraps his arms around her thighs, propping his chin on her raised knees.

"You know, your love of coffee at midnight is beginning to concern me."

"I like how it tastes," Nesta tells him haughtily, taking another sip pointedly. "Besides, you're just jealous that my body is able to handle it and yours can't."

"Handle it?" Cassian asks, pressing a chuckle into her knee. "Is that what you're calling staying up until the early hours of the morning?"

"You say that like it's only the coffee keeping me up."

"Just one more chapter, right?" Cassian lets out a long, dramatic sigh, putting on his best pout. "How will I ever be able to compete with those book boyfriends of yours? With their Zaddy shadow powers?"

There's no stopping the laugh that tumbles free from Nesta's lips at that, Cassian grin only growing in response to the sound. "I cannot believe you just said that."

"With their dark hair and their tattoos and their ruggish good looks."

"You are not subtle."

Cassian winks at her, sitting back enough that he can pick back up his own mug, taking a sip of his tea. They speak softly as they both finish their drinks, Cassian telling her about his latest project at work and Nesta telling him about the current book she, Emerie, and Gwyn are reading for book club. It's comfortable and easy, and Nesta can't stop smiling as the minutes tick over into hours.

When they've both drained their mugs, Cassian coaxes them both back into the bedroom, Nesta burrowing beneath the blankets and into him. His arms wrap securely around her waist, tugging her closer still until their legs are a tangled mess. Until his body and his warmth and his scent surrounds her completely. Until Nesta isn't sure where she begins and he ends.

It doesn't take long for Cassian to fall asleep, for his breathing to even out, but Nesta finds herself staying awake. Finds herself watching him. Finds herself giving in to that golden warmth curling in her gut and between her ribs.

The lights are out, but Nesta swears she can see it in the press of Cassian's cheek against his pillow, in the dark strands of his hair soft and sleep mussed against his temple. She swears she can hear it in the soft snores he lets out, in the quiet patter of rain that's started outside the window. She swears she can feel it in the warm weight of Cassian's arms curled around her, in the steady beat of his heart pressed against her own.

There's a quiet snuffle and then Cassian's eyes are blinking open again, his smile soft and sleepy. "What is it?"

"Just…" Nesta sighs softly, giving in to the urge to brush the hair off Cassian's face with gentle fingers. "Thinking."

"About how handsome I look when I sleep?"

"Actually, you drool." Cassian's chuckle is soft, tugging a smile across Nesta's lips. "I was just thinking… that I don't know what I'd do without you."

"The feeling is mutual," he assures her, the soft look that takes over Cassian's face leaving Nesta's breath catching. The one meant just for her. "You're my best friend, Nes."

Nesta dips her head forward, sealing her lips against Cassian's in a sweet kiss. And she knows it for sure, then. She knows that she is in love.

—

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