#if there were no loops . would they have known each other the same ?

[scene-iii]

if some form of yuu doesn't show up in ace's dream i'll speedrun a bake no hana animatic for dinah.

[nmn-yty]

— ๋࣭ ⭑࿐ leaning on you ˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

read other parts first!!! : part 1 — part 2

pairing: lee know x reader

summary: you somehow managed to cross the line with your bunny, can it be pleasurable for the both of you?

tags: 「NSFW! 18+ only! smut | hybrid!lee know | referring to lee know as minho | hybrid wanting to mate | needy!lee know makes a return | humping/thighjob | nipple play | unprotected sex (i dont condone!) | anal | orgasms for both^^ | cuddles are here i promise | reader has no gender」

word count: 2.5k

a/n: hello! i severely apologize to all of you who have been waiting for this part to come out :( ive been struggling to find time to continue to write, and the motivation with it... but here it is! seriously... i can't explain how much i appreciate all of the love you guys have given to my stories♡ im so happy you guys love bunny lee know so much! i also wanted to keep this as neutral as possible regarding the reader (hence the anal) but you can switch it out in your imagination! (i wanted to have all readers to be able to enjoy!) also this is my first smut story being uploaded... i hope you guys have a good read><!!!~

(special shoutout to @omgsecretsecret for helping me edit this part♡)

+ stylized lowercase, missing punctuation (not done on purpose), and minimal revisions

"so do bunnies like you experience everything a human should?"

you didn't know why your mind was drifting towards this direction. for as long as you had minho in your house, you were sure your relationship would be 100% platonic. he was adorable as hell, eased your mind whenever any worries came to you, and was always there by your side. did that give you clearance to make a move on him? you didn't want to ruin the perfect relationship you two had, but you have needs, and you were wondering if he had the ability to share those same needs.

minho paused for a moment, sitting oddly still while you sat above him. you were sitting on the edge of your bed, playing with his hair while he sat on the floor with his head leaning against the mattress. his head was almost at a distance where you could press your thighs against each side of his face, but you resisted enough so the lingering thoughts of teasing him went away.

he turned around briefly to face you, "what do you mean by 'everything'?"

your face began to flush after you realized how insensitive your question could've been.

"not to pry or anything but... aren't bunnies known for... having a high sex drive?" you spat out quickly before your confidence faded away.

his eyes widened, this is the first time youve seen him this shocked at your words. he was too shocked to even reply to you, not that he had anything ready in his mind. you could feel his presence tense up and you wanted to steer clear of whatever dirty path your mind seemed to wander on. he didn't say anything and just turned back around, finally leaning into your thigh. he wrapped one arm around your leg, feeling your cool skin calming down his burning face. having him so close to you when you wanted to run away in shame felt strange. you were always used to being close to minho, but the sudden affection, especially after that moment, was out of place. your leg started to warm up because of his face. starting to relax a bit, you realized that it wasn't the right time to head across that line.

you smiled and started to play with his hair again, looping each little section around your finger into curls. they eventually sprung back to its natural shape once you let go. minho loved this time with you, when all you did was leave your worries for that day and focused on him. it was his favorite thing to do while being with you. he still carried the thought in his mind, 'maybe something would happen during my need for mating'. only time could tell the new moments you two would experience together.

during the late night, you and minho were cuddling in bed. it wasn't strange for the both of you anymore. you knew that minho felt more comfortable knowing that you kept him safe. cuddling with him was the least you could do to comfort him.

this night felt different though. the question you asked earlier felt like a reach into unwanted territories. you wanted him to expand on his feelings, but at the end of the day he was a shy bunny who got flustered easier than you thought.

unsure of your next thoughts, you closed your eyes and tried your best to go to sleep as soon as you could. feeling rustling from behind you, minho's presence inched closer to you. the movement didn't stop, you could feel him shaking now. was it too cold in the room? you stayed as still as possible, trying to make out the noise coming from him. he was whimpering softly, almost like he needed something desperately.

"m-minho?"

you turned around to face him, tears were welling up in his eyes. he was clearly distraught about something but you had no clue what happened. your heart sank, was it because of the invasive conversation from earlier?

he sniffed softly, trying to make out words but ultimately getting choked up.

"i... i need..."

his eyes glanced down to the bottom half of his body. tentatively scanning his body as to what he was trying to point out, the last and most obvious thing you noticed was a slight twitch coming from his crotch, the cloth sticking up as well.

'fuck... is this really happening?' you thought to yourself. you managed to repress and bury all the inappropriate thoughts you had about minho, but he was about to fuel it once again. his face was as pink as ever, in desperate need for your warm touch.

"is this what i think it is?"

"mating tendencies... yeah... i-ive never experienced it while being human, i dont know if it will feel the same. but i r-really need..."

he was huffing between words, stuttering as well.

"let me think for a second."

you turned facing away from him. rubbing your thighs together, trying to hold back the good aching feeling rising within, you couldn't help but panic for a second. would you help him out because he's in pain and needs to relieve himself? how would this moment affect your relationship moving forward? would it be a normal occurrence, or only during his need to mate? would it be better to just ignore it and try hold on to whatever you two had going on when you first met?

your rushing thoughts were interrupted by something warm, sticky, and hard. something poking at your thighs, trying to squeeze itself in between.

you couldn't help but let out a small yelp. that feeling began to rise in you. there was no way things were going back to how they used to be. the movement kept progressing, you glanced down in front of yourself to find the head of minho's cock against your thighs. you wanted nothing more than to take him, take his body, and pleasure the both of you were bound to have.

"minho please.." you reached down towards his cock, ready to progress. he misunderstood and took it as you wanting to stop. he pulled away, hesitantly, already missing the softness of your thighs.

"mm sorry... i j-just need.."

"hey," you turned around slightly to grab his face. you flashed him a small grin, making sure he didn't feel guilty for acting this way around you. "it's okay."

a tear started to stream down one side of his face. your reassurance made him slide himself back in between your thighs. you wondered how it was possible for it to feel so good on your bare skin. you had shorts on but it all of a sudden became more hot under the blankets. your thighs were coated in a thin layer of his precum. he gripped onto your body for a better stroke pattern.

sweet little moans erupted from behind you. minho was the one engulfing your body with his tall stature against you. however, you felt like you were in charge at the moment. letting your sweet bunny try and cum from your body was more than enough for you to start to get horny yourself.

slipping a hand under your shirt, you began to play with your nipples slowly. you shut your eyes and leaned more into minho's chest, hoping that he wouldn't catch you in the act. sweet little huffs turned into loud groans, he was in a trance and he hadn't even started to properly explore your body. he had ultimately noticed you leaning more into him, even arching your back. he wanted you to feel comfortable and not worry as much about trying to relieve yourself on your own. although you were the one trying to help him, he wanted to be the one to help you with your release too.

"let me.. please?" he said while placing his hand on top of yours, wanting to take your place on your chest. you moved your hand down in defeat, it was impossible to say no to him. his hands felt warm on your bare skin. swirling his fingers around you and occasionally pulling, your nipples hardened more and more. your breath started to get unsteady as you wanted more. shivers ran throughout your whole body.

gently breaking the contact of his cock and your thighs, you turned your whole body around to face him. you locked eyes with him and all the guilt and doubts you had in your mind about you two went away. his cock began to twitch at the loss of warmth. you suddenly placed your hand on him, slowly stroking and gliding on him, your hand becoming a sticky mess. he let out a strong huff and tilted his head back. you both were seeing stars. minho was unable to fathom that you were finally touching him, taking in all the strength to not cum right then and there. you were also shocked at how good you felt. seeing his reaction made you more comfortable and ready to move further.

grabbing your face with both hands, he placed a passionate, wet kiss on your lips. his tongue was determined and he kept moving his mouth in ways that sent you to heaven. pulling away to see your reaction, he smiled, "im still all yours, remember?" his voice just became more sexy to you than ever. you quickly locked lips with him again, smiling through it all. his lips were soft and plump from all the action, he bit the bottom of your lip to signal he needed some air. both of you sharing the same blushing expression.

he tried to drag your body back around but ultimately needed assistance. helping him out, you turned around immediately. sticking your ass out on his bare cock, you moved your hips up and down. minho was at his breaking point. he nudged his mouth near your ear, slowly dragging your shorts and underwear down. "please? let me put it in... i need to feel you.." his breath was hot and low on your ear. you were surprised you hadn't melted into a puddle yet.

you didn't say anything. you were too drunk off of the bliss feeling lingering throughout your whole body. you placed a hand on top of his that was resting on your hip. he took that as a sign to start.

not a second to waste, he lodged his entire length into your ass, letting out a deep moan into your ear. you arched your back more and almost choked up on the intense yelp you let out. he filled you up so good, it barely hurt from all the precum he was dripping with. he also took his time on the first stroke, pulling out his length so you knew how its absence would feel. you squeezed his hand, wanting more.

he slowly stroked back in, his high coming back harder this time. you felt like your heart was going to explode. his slow rhythm became more loud and sloppy, the wetness spreading throughout your bodies. syncing your moans with each pump, you instinctively rolled your tongue to hang out and pant more. you wanted this feeling to last for as long as possible.

the pace began to increase, and minho wasn't holding back on his moans. this whole time he was in his human form, but this much work was bound to make him change. you didn't notice at first, but his bunny ears appeared and drooped down, gently caressing your face. being in his hybrid form made him more bunny like, it made him go faster. the rhythm was so irresistible, it was fast but gentle, hitting you in all the right places. you felt yourself being filled with more fluid, gliding himself became easier than before.

he held onto your body even closer and tighter. minho started to felt bad about involving you in this situation, but you did want to be closer to him in this way. he wanted to make sure you felt satisfied, so he held himself back and focused the pleasure going to you. the final stretch of your rising heat and the steady rhythm snapped you out of your trance.

"s-slower, please minh-ho," you whined out. you couldn't tell, but he began to smirk at the way his name sounded in that tone. it drove him crazy, the fact that he was actually making you a complete mess. you wanted to savor this addictive feeling, but the slower strokes made your body greedy.

it all came rushing in at once, you let out one last yelp as you rode through your high. minho helped you by holding on to your shaking body.

the sight of your worn body filled himself with so much pride, he was shocked that he hadn't came yet. "did that feel good?" his voice was low and velvety in your ears again.

"y-yes," you managed to whisper out. still sensitive, you could feel him twitching around your walls, which made you choke slightly between breaths. he was trying his best not to move too much, but his body wasn't on his side.

you wanted to help him, but first you needed to recover. he moved his head to your neck, slowly sucking and kissing around to make sure you were okay. his sweet behavior was very calming, especially after the first orgasm you experienced with him.

"dont you want to cum too?" your question snapped him back to the situation at hand.

"can i?"

you nodded lazily, about to doze off at any minute. however, minho was quick to return to his rough pace, making your eyes steady again. he buried his head back onto you, acting like the shy bunny you knew too. the deeper and harder he pumped, he suddenly whispered a quick 'fuck' under his breath, pulling out of you. he grabbed his dick and painted your ass with his warm, thick cum.

it was beautiful, seeing how happy he was to finally get his first orgasm as a human. he pressed his body up against you, getting all the cum and sweat on his body as well. he didn't mind it though, he was too tired to clean up.

he looked drained, you noticed the beads of sweat all over his face and body. he was glistening with a new aura, and he looked like the most beautiful thing in the world. he still managed to give you a crooked smile, letting you know it was a good experience. you started to get flustered, even though you two just experienced the most intimate action ever.

you changed your position, letting your face sit on his chest. you buried and hid your red face from him. he gently reached up to pet your head, soothing you to sleep.

waking up to minho distanced away, you couldn't help but pull him back into a cuddle. he had quickly turned back into his bunny form to recharge from the actions that took place last night. he didn't flinch at all from the movement, he just slowed his breathing down as he was surrounded by a sudden warmth. you couldn't help but feel a little sorry about the sacrifice he took today. you pet his body slowly, kissing his head gently. you wanted to apologize for the state he was in now, but he was the one who made sure that it was okay to go through with in the first place.

♥︎taglist: @lailac13 @palindrome969 @lunathewonyoungstan @syedazarintasnim @yourlocalstayyxi @yukichan67 @qwonyoung23 @cupidcures @verynormalsstuff @leezanetheofficial @brainrotahahaha @kim-hao-han @b0os-jellfyfish @l33felix @wirwirfr @skzmylove75 @katsukis1wife @zyoopioo @katsukisloveinterest

© nmn-yty ★ 7.15.2024

[welcometoyunosworld]

Lovely, see?

𝐊𝐰𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐢-𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐠 / 𝐆-𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍

𝙎𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙤 [𝙍𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩]; 𝘑𝘪-𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰. 𝘚𝘰 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘳, 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰𝘰, 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘕𝘰𝘯𝘦!! 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘉𝘢𝘦𝘴!💋

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You and Ji-yong were well known as the sweetest couple by many, many fans. Hell, you don't even see any bashers with the amount of fans that support you, creating fan pages about you and your Ji-yong. Sure you had Instagram, full of pictures of you, Ji-yong, you and Ji-yong together, maybe even TikTok too. But you only have a few posts there, sneak peaks of your own songs that your fans love.

Although whenever you miss Ji-yong, since he also has his tours, and can be very busy, you would watch the fanmade stuff about you and Ji-yong. It was out of curiosity, and plus, it was so sweet to see fans making those cute videos about you and Ji-yong. Giggles escaped your lips as you watched the 24th video that popped up from the search '𝙂-𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙔/𝙣'. Your giggles turned into a soft laugh when you came across an edit of you and Ji-yong, being the best couple.

And it was true, you two were the best of couples. The definition of true love, loyalty, compassion and patience. Talk about a power couple, hell, your collabs with Ji-yong always got fans going crazy. Tours? Matching outfits. Period.

He wanted you to feel special, and you wanted the same. He needs you to know that he loves you for who you really are, not because you're a celebrity, not because you're beautiful. In short, you both wanna make each other happy and loved no matter what.

Before you met Ji-yong, it was like a loop to you. Wake up, rehearsal, write songs, tours and make money. It was so 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁, your motivation for writing and singing was crumbling away, you felt helpless, alone. Your staff was there but what will they do? They only record your daily life, to which you get pissed and shut them out and lock yourself in your hotel room for days. YG didn't like it one bit, but they didn't wanna lose you, 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰.

Until you met this 𝗚-𝗗𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗼𝗻 at the cafe you would go to every weekends, you didn't recognize him at first until you noticed his colored hair and nearly screamed when you realized who just offered you a handkerchief.

Okay so here's how it went,

You were just making your way outta there because you got your order and you wanna get back home as soon as possible, but the moment you open the door, there goes Mr. Ji-yong who bumps into you, spilling your precious coffee all over your beautiful outfit. “Oh shit- Miss, I'm so sorry.” You really didn't have the energy to even reply but when you saw his face and when he saw yours, you two had a staring contest before you eventually went like; “Am i hallucinating after days of no sleep? Is that really you Mr. Kwon?” You whispered and he chuckled. “Yes Ms. L/n.”

So that's how your love story with Ji-yong started. You knew him, he knew you but none of your asses had the guts to text or talk, just liking each other's posts until fans started to notice.

⊱ ���───── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

“Aein? Earth to Aein??” Ji-yong snaps his fingers in front of you making you blink and look at him wide eyed with a 'Huh??', he laughed softly and placed a kiss on your forehead. “I was saying, come to my tour on the 5th, Saturday.” He said softly, cupping your cheek and you smiled softly. You placed your hand above his, looking into his eyes. “Of course, I'm not busy. My interview is on the 10th anyway.” This brought a smile to Ji-yong's face and he pulled you in, cuddling you and whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you both fell asleep.

Damn lucky you are. Little did you know, you'd be the one in tears of joy soon.

Standing there at the front, literally right near the stage, excited as the fans. You adjusted your mask and sunglasses as you sighed softly, you can't help but feel a bit annoyed that you had to hide like this but it was for Ji-yong and watching him slay like he always has. Five more minutes before the precious man would finally show up. And you're here wondering what on earth is this album about that Ji-yong didn't even give you any sneak peaks like he used to.

Brushing it off, thinking it was just a really good surprise, you waited patiently until the music finally started and there's your Ji-yong, ah, G-Dragon making his way there with a proud smile on his face. Your smile only grew as you listened to the first song, mentioning stuff about love, compassion and loyalty. You couldn't help but chuckle, the lyrics had a deeper meaning that Ji-yong knew 𝘆𝗼𝘂'd understand better than anyone else.

The final song has arrived and you were caught off guard by Ji-yong who suddenly got off stage and gently swooped you in his arms and brought you on stage. What the hell? Is this part of the song or something? You shrieked and held onto him, the crowd's cheers were too damn loud and Ji-yong gently removed your sunglasses and mask. “Ji?? What's going on?” He only smiled at you and gently placed you down on your feet.

“Listen to me, Aein.” He said as he brought the mic back to his lips, the music started again. Lyrics expressing his love for you, how you make him feel loved and appreciated, and—

“𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗜'𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝗳𝗲, 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆?”

You froze and your eyes widened when Ji-yong got on one knee. Reaching for the small box in his pocket and looking up at you with a soft smile and your tears were already streaming down your cheeks, your heart was racing and you looked away, a staff handed you a mic and you looked at Ji-yong with disbelief and admiration..

“Oh, Ji.. You did all this.. for me?” Your shaky voice came as Ji-yong chuckled and nodded. “Yes, Aein. I wanted.. to surprise you, and make this moment special for you, not just me. So, Aein, will you marry me” Ji-yong puts the mic down so he could hold your hand and you couldn't even talk, just nodding your head with a smile on your face. “Yes..” Barely above a whisper, but Ji-yong heard it nonetheless.

Easily sliding the ring around your ring finger, oh it was perfect alright. He quickly hugged you, bringing you up and doing a little twirl as everyone cheered for you both.

“This is perfect, Ji..” You muttered softly.

“You're perfect, Aein.”

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳

How do we feel, singles? Jk jk HAHAH

hope u like this one bc i do. It's so cute😔💋

[often-daydreaming]

An Ancient's Game

It started off small at first. A robbery in Metropolis. A missing persons case in Gotham. An 'accident' in Amity Park. None of it connected. Nobody thought to connect them. It was just another case after all. There would always be another case so sometimes things slipped through the cracks. It happened.

Even heroes made mistakes after all.

They overlooked things.

But in the end they messed up and someone had to pay and someone did when Clark Kent heard his wife and son’s heartbeats vanish off the face of the earth during a somewhat quiet afternoon while he was handling a disaster in France.

He was the man of steel though, he could have made it. He should have made it but he was a second too late. His family was gone and Metropolis felt the fury of the old gods as a being made of wind and storms ripped its way free of an unseen portal cackling with mad laughter as it devastated the city.

It was another distraction though.

A massive distraction that drew the Justice League's attention away from the real prize as nightmares descended on Gotham like shadows. They morphed from the darkness slipping out through the cracks like ghosts and only Oracle saw the fight as they swarmed the youngest Robin, the Dark Knight's youngest son vanishing under an endless tide of nightmares as Nocturn took control of Gotham's nightlife.

More distractions followed as more and more of the old gods, Ancient beings long forgotten returned to Earth.

Storms raged.

The ground quaked.

Creatures of myth and legend were free to run wild as reports of everything from dragons to even yetis flooded the Watchtower.

In the end it was Diana who found their first and only clue when one of her mother's messengers appeared warning them of Themyscira's fate when a portal was opened for Undergrowth deep within the island's jungles. They fought. They fell. Then they were turned into mindless puppets bent to the monster's will as the sounds of war subsided into silence within a matter of days.

Her losses gave them a name.

Undergrowth, a creature of the green who cheered the being known as Clockwork while Constantine explained its origin.

He told them of Cronos, of the pieces of him that had formed into a new life deep within the endlessness of Infinity.

And Fate opened the way.

The first thing the gathered heroes saw was a massive clocktower surrounded by gears and pistons twisting in every direction as they spilled out into an endless void. Each tenth of a second, the hands on the clocktower click one step forward.

A single tooth on one of the smaller gears is easily the size of the Watchtower and no matter how far anyone looked there was no beginning or end to the clocktower.

There was nothing except the click, click, click of endless clocks as they stormed the Titan's lair.

Nothing stopped them.

There were no enemies or traps.

In fact the doors were left wide open as if welcoming the Justice League inside and they soon discovered why when Shazam found them. Superboy stood on a scale across from Luthor, the same with Robin and Waller. They were frozen in time, trapped in a single second of a moment while in the very middle of the massive room was a kid, easily Jon's double sleeping on a throne made out of the void of space but that wasn't what had him worried.

What worried him was the silence, the sudden nothingness in his mind as the voices of the gods empowering him faded away in the presence of the cloaked figure of Cronos suddenly standing beside the throne.

Even as the other heroes flooded into the room he couldn't hear anything besides a soft click, click, click as Superman was waved away forced into a loop of repetition that began and ended with his first step forward.

Green Lantern fell next, rapidly aged into an old man unable to match a Titan's will.

Then Constantine collapsed clutching an invisible wound on his chest. It was his contracts forcing him to obey while Fate eventually faded under time's cold embrace.

There were only a few heroes left when Flash made a move blitzing the throne only to suddenly lose his speed. The others simply glitched, like static on an old tv leaving only Shazam, J'onn and surprisingly Lois Lane standing in front of Cronos as he declared a game to decide Earth's continued existence.

'Convince each of them you're worth another chance and I'll restore everything.'

'Who's them?'

I don't really know what I was going with here. I was just listening to some of the songs from Epic and figured why not let an enraged Clockwork have some fun. I'm blaming Vlad for everything cause I can and he's done it before and caused a ton of problems for everyone else so I'm just picturing something he did or tried to do backfiring badly enough that Danny got seriously hurt so now everyone's gotta pay.

[wandasaura]

LINGER LIKE A TATTOO KISS

summary — as the summer approaches, so does a shift in your relationship with wanda

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, sensory overload, anxiety, mentions of child abuse (very brief and nondescript), dom/sub dynamics, patience testing, bratty!reader, punishment, teasing, mild humiliation, orgasm denial, spanking, praise, aftercare, entrance of the mommy kink, men/minors dni

authors note — the moment we’ve all been waiting for… or at least one of them ;), we finally got some wanda action, and a couple little domestic scenes because they’re the cutest wives

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

The supermarket was beyond crowded for it being a Wednesday afternoon in early May. You supposed the air conditioned aisles were being used as an escape from the scalding temperatures of approaching summer that threatened to melt the inventory of every ice cream truck in the neighborhood, but to say you were overstimulated was putting it lightly. 

You trailed after Wanda and Natasha with a frown on your face, making your disinterest known to both of the lawyers who were in desperate need of more produce and salad kits. You’d never understand why Natasha favored the plastic bags of lettuce over the perfectly green heads that Wanda grew in the back garden, but she’d thrown at least six prepackaged variations into the cart when you stopped at the stand. You were trailing down the cereal aisle now, and your attitude was getting on both of their nerves.

Wanda had been flat out ignoring your temper tantrum since the moment it started, but Natasha was not as keen to be dismissive as her wife. She’d been throwing out warnings since you’d first come through the automatic doors, but they had all fallen on deaf ears as you stayed persistent in your pout. Your arms were folded over your chest, your eyes slitted into daggers if anyone even attempted to look in your direction. You’d been near perfectly behaved for weeks, spare a few harsh comments thrown in Wanda’s direction, but they’d both been willing to overlook your harshness because aside from those, you’d been an angel. Whatever streak of good behavior you’d been running off of however, had seen its end, and both lawyers in front of you were shocked by the attitude you simmered in. 

“If I have to ask you again to pick up your feet, I’m going to make you sit in the cart like a child.” Natasha’s voice was quiet, not willing to draw attention from the other shoppers in the aisle, but there was an unignorable warning in her tone. She’d asked you three times to stop dragging your feet across the floors, and each time you promptly dragged them harder. You were absolutely certain that smudges of black looped the grocery store floors and aided as a map to your current location, but you didn’t care. You’d been so good, so painfully good and pliant and willing to bend to even the slightest gust of wind, but not today. Not now. Not when it was too hot and too cold at the same time. Not when it was too loud and too crowded and you’d asked them both if you could just stay home. They hadn’t wanted that. They wanted to go together, told you that you were going together even after you protested, and you know it’s because they’d wanted to get you some of your favorite treats for the end of the semester coming up, but how could they blame you for being cranky when you’d warned them about not wanting to come along at all. You’d been here for what felt like hours, and if your phone wasn’t being held captive in Wanda’s pocket, you’re sure the digits on your lockscreen would support your accusation. 

“Can we leave?!” You ignored Natasha’s warning, wiggled away from her when she got too close, and pressed yourself up against the shelves of cereal boxes. You wouldn’t fare well to the close contact she wanted to initiate, but she didn’t seem to get that, because the second you thought you had found peace in your little corner, she was right back in front of you with a glare only the worst criminals faced. She was not your loving and sweet dominant right now, you’d pushed her too far, and she didn’t take kindly to embarrassment. You’re pretty sure that the man three carts behind you had been gawking at your temperament since you came in, and while Wanda had sent him a glare, he still hadn’t gotten the hint that your little attitude didn’t concern him. Natasha grabbed at your wrists, pulling them away from your chest with a grip too strong to fight. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you wiggled immediately, but she wasn’t letting go. “Nat, let go.” You pleaded with her, desperately tried to get her to understand you needed space right now, but she was seething and subsequently blinded by your panic. 

“Natalia.” Wanda called out for her wife, her careful eye watching your movements despite the seeming disinterest on her lips. Your eyes flickered over to Wanda, and while to Natasha it appeared that you were a deer in headlights anticipating a scolding, the Sokovian could see the wisps of actual panic in your stare. “Let go.” 

Natasha listened, if only because a crowd had started to form toward the opposite end of the aisle and she wanted to move on before she became the cause of a traffic jam. Her hand left yours, and though it had been making your skin burn, you missed it instantly. Tears brimmed your eyes, but you refused to let her see that, and so instead of pleading that you leave only to be overlooked again, you just dropped your chin to your chest and followed along after them both with a drag in your step. 

“This is your chance to tell me what’s wrong.” You practically jumped out of your skin when Wanda’s voice appeared closer than it had been all afternoon. If you had leaned any closer into her, your arm would have brushed her chest. You shuffled away from her, beyond the point of communication. You thought you’d made it pretty clear that you wanted to leave, anytime you acted out Natasha didn’t hesitate to drag you away, but she hadn’t this time. You knew that realistically it was because she needed supplies to make dinner, but after weeks of being good, you couldn’t deny that you had missed the feeling of her heavy hands on your skin in a way that was less than kind. You could ask for what you needed, but you would rather die a slow painful death then ask for what she called a ‘maintenance spanking’. “If you’re not going to communicate, then I don’t want the attitude. You are making a scene. Drop it, pick out some snacks, and try to be nice.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You huffed, making the rash decision to shove her body away from yours with both of your outstretched palms. Wanda’s lips set into a firm line, her eyebrows raised in surprise at the action. You’ve been rude, snarky even, but you’ve never raised your hands to her, even if it was only to create some space between your bodies. You shuffled on your feet, immediately regretting the decision to force space rather than ask for it. You’d been riding her last nerve for days, your sarcastic comments just the slightest bit meaner than usual, but she had been willing to overlook them because she knew you were stressed with finals and outside of those one-off comments you’d been helpful and obedient. There was no way she’d ignore this, and you wanted to cry thinking about how at the end of the night it wouldn’t be Natasha’s hands on your body that you wanted so desperately, but hers. “I– sorry.” You apologized weakly, not even sure what it was that you were apologizing for. Was it because the look in her eyes was undeniably scary, or was it because you pushed her? You knew that it was a mixture of both, but you needed that look to go away before you could even form a coherent thought. 

“In the cart.” She demanded, not leaving you any room to argue. You violently shook your head, knowing that being confined to such a small space would only make the panic in your belly worse. There were too many noises and stimulus, too many conflicting temperatures, being confined between four metal bumpers would certainly set you off and you were only just barely keeping yourself together now. “If you want to act like a child you’ll get treated like one. Natasha has asked you four times to stop dragging your feet, and frankly, I can’t trust that you’ll keep your hands to yourself anymore. You either sit in the cart, or you and I will go out to the car and you won’t be getting any of the treats you want. Which one is it going to be?” 

“I want Nat.” You pleaded with her, suddenly aware of the fact that you didn’t even know where the other redhead had wandered off to, or when she’d started moving. She had been right in front of you, but now you couldn’t spot her and the thought of losing her in the supermarket spiked worry in your chest. “Where’s Nat?” You didn’t care about how frantic you appeared, didn’t care that you were ignoring Wanda’s question and definitely making things worse for yourself. You hated getting separated, you hated breaking off into pairs even if the three of you had set a meet up location if this were to happen. 

Wanda, though annoyed with your behavior, sighed softly and dropped the threatening glare she’d been pointing at you. “Nat went to get some grapes and strawberries. You finished them this morning, remember?” You could only nod, remembering that you had in fact finished their fruit after refusing to eat the eggs that Wanda made for breakfast. It was too hot outside for anything warm to eat. They weren’t giving you a choice in tagging along, and although you couldn’t control where they dragged you, well you could if you had called your safeword and asked for space, but that wasn’t really what you wanted. You still had control over what you ate even if the supermarket was non negotiable, and you knew that the cold fruit would sit better in your stomach when it inevitably came time to leave. 

“This is the last time I’m going to ask you what’s wrong, Y/N. If you refuse to answer, I will be the one you deal with when we get home. This behavior is unacceptable.” Wanda remained firm, but there was concern in her voice that made you wonder if you would avoid punishment if you came clean. Deciding that you’d rather face humiliation than her heavy hand on your ass, you relented. 

“There’s too many people.” You whispered, shamefully dropping your eyes to the floor, counting the specs of black and gold in the tiles beneath your feet. The design was ugly when isolated, but somehow it worked for the aesthetic of the store when you focused on the full picture. “It’s too loud. And tomorrow's my last final and I’m not sure how it’s going to go, and I have to sleep at my dorm tonight and I haven’t done that since Natty was away. And I just need space right now but I don’t want to be alone.” 

The Maximoff residence had practically become your residence since the night you showed up in tears. You’d spent all of your nights in the soft guest bed, and most of your mornings in the dining room eating a homemade breakfast for the last six weeks. It was embarrassing to admit that you had gotten used to being there with them, that now that you had it, you didn’t want to trade it in for your stiff dorm room with a roommate you hadn’t spoken a word to since the first week of classes, even if it would only be for a handful of hours to sleep. You hated sleeping alone, even if you had slept alone in their house almost every night, spare the occasions Natasha fucked you into that fuzzy headspace she adores and they had let you crash in bed with them. Sleeping in your dorm was different, and lonely. And yeah, you had survived three years of dorm living prior to meeting them, but things were different now. You are different now. 

Wanda’s face melted into softness at your admission, and suddenly you felt silly for keeping it to yourself for so long, but you’d unasked for self-criticism had convinced you that you were being needy and unreasonable and they wouldn’t understand where your head was at even if you tried to articulate. After almost a year with Natasha, you should’ve known that wasn’t true, shouldn’t have even entertained that thought, but after showing both her and Wanda that you could be good for longer than just a couple hours, you’d felt like raising any problems no matter their origin would only aggravate them. You didn’t want to lose what you had, even if it meant being uncomfortable in a grocery store. 

“It is pretty overstimulating in here, isn’t it?” Wanda coos, her green eyes understanding and sympathetic. It’s a violent switch from how she’d been talking to you, but you thrive beneath her gentle validation of your feelings and find yourself nodding along. “Natty and I try our best to accommodate you, but we don’t know everything that can be overwhelming for you. We need you to tell us, so these things don’t happen. Shoving me didn’t make it any less crowded, and ignoring Nat didn’t make it any less loud. I know you were trying your best, but how could we have handled that better?” You should hate the way she’s speaking to you; like a child made of glass, but somehow it makes you feel better. She doesn’t sound mad anymore, there's no unspoken threat of consequences or stripped privileges, she’s just trying to get on the same page as you, trying to get you to understand where your mistakes had been so you can fix them in the future. You hate that you want more of this, whatever it is. 

“Telling you.” You sighed, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly, trying to take away some of the blame that was becoming heavy guilt in your belly. “I didn’t think you’d listen.” 

“Have we ever not listened to you?” Wanda quirks an eyebrow, and you feel properly schooled beneath the expression. 

“I told you I didn’t want to come.” You tried to excuse yourself, but the lawyer was having none of your avoidance. You sighed, dropping your shoulders and focusing your attention on your cuticles, picking at the skin that had only recently begun to heal. “Nobody has ever taken me seriously before. My last girlfriend used to parade me around claiming exposure would ‘fix’ me. I didn’t think it would matter to you that I’m overstimulated.” 

Wanda didn’t know much of anything about your past relationships. Whenever you talked about them, which was admittedly almost never, it was only ever Natasha who was around to witness realization crash over you like high tide. Your past romantic partners and the estranged relationship with your family had completely destroyed you, however these two successful lawyers that you found yourself entangled with were slowly putting the pieces of your broken heart back together, even if they didn’t realize just how much they were helping you. 

“Do you want to leave?” Wanda didn’t dwell on your revelation, she didn’t pick it apart and hone in on all of the ways you knew that she could. She’s a lawyer, the very best one in the world, don’t tell Natasha you thought that; there were a million little things in your brief explanation that had set off alarm bells in her head, but she didn’t pry. You don’t know why you thought she would, but having the topic dropped before it was even picked up had soothed at least a fraction of your newfound worry. 

The question startled you, having expected that to be the last thing she suggested, but it felt good to know that she was willing to order takeout for dinner if it meant getting you out of this situation. You wanted to leave, you desperately wanted to run to the exit at the first implication that you were allowed, but they needed groceries, and you wanted the chocolate ice cream sandwiches Natasha had promised. “No.” You whispered, shaking your head just in case she hadn’t heard you over the toddler screaming bloody murder in the juice aisle. “I don’t know.” 

“Do you want to sit in the cart while Nat and I finish shopping? I’ll give you back your phone and you can listen to your music until we’re done. It’s not a punishment, stop looking at me like that.” Wanda teased, and you giggled softly at her scrunched up nose and creased eyes. It was definitely a better suited look than her angry glare, and you couldn’t stop your finger from reaching out to poke her. “Did you just boop my nose?” She laughed, all of your bratty behavior forgotten about, at least for now anyways. 

“It wanted to be booped. It told me.” You shrugged your shoulders, hyper aware of the fact that you’d voluntarily touched her and it hadn’t made your hand turn into flames. Your relationship was slowly on the mend, that much was undeniable,  but physical touch was still something you shied away from at no fault of her own, but rather your own insecurities that needed to be worked through. “Are you gonna tell Natty I pushed you?” 

“No.” Her honesty surprised you almost as much as her willingness to forgive your fatal misstep, but you nodded curtly, lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I didn’t mean to. You were just too close, and Natty didn’t listen when I asked her to let go and I panicked.” You mumbled out the reason for your behavior, aware that it sounded like an excuse but there was no ounce of judgment or disbelief in Wanda’s eyes. 

“I know.” She assured, and you deflated in relief. “You’re not going to do it again, if you do I will not be as forgiving, but I know you were feeling crowded, so I’m willing to let it go if you are.” 

You nodded eagerly, and Wanda smiled. “Can we go find Nat now?” 

-

As you expected, spending the night in your dorm was torturous. In the six weeks that you’d been away, you’d forgotten how your roommate snores and turns throughout the night, and her mattress was far noisier than yours had ever been. It hadn’t bothered you all that much at the start of the academic year, and maybe that had been because of your exhaustion with the adjustment and workload of seven classes instead of the typical four, or maybe you had just been able to get used to it, but now that you had discovered what true quiet sounds like when you sleep, there had not been a single ounce of rest achieved all night. 

Your alarm went off at fifteen minutes to six, and you cursed whoever was cruel enough to schedule an exam for seven in the morning on a Thursday in May, but you shuffled out of bed anyway and dressed quickly in the few articles of clothing that still lingered in your dorm. Most of them had been brought to the Maximoff residence, but what hadn’t made it over because it was significantly useless with the presence of warmer weather, had been dropped off in the storage unit paid for by your mother. The woman was a flaky figure in your life at best, definitely no parent, but you appreciate her dedication to your education. She paid for your tuition, she assured you had the best meal plan and access to books and study materials, and when the seasons changed and you were let out on break, she made sure there was a safe and trustworthy place to store your belongings. She’d never once said she was proud of you, but when she asked for a report of your grades and didn’t immediately berate you, you knew that she was at least satisfied. 

If you failed any of your finals, you knew there would be hell to pay. You already weren’t coming home for the summer like you usually did, and although your mother didn’t know the reason why, she was less than happy when you’d relayed the abrupt change in plans three weeks ago. She was a controlling narcissist, a woman that had brought you years of pain and suffering for her own pleasure, you knew what she was capable of the second she caught wind of academic failure, and you would not reward her the opportunity to berate you the way she did in high school when you received anything less than all A’s on your report card. It was stupid to allow a woman with no presence in your life to have so much control, but you needed to at least be perceived as a good daughter if she were going to keep paying your multi-thousand dollar bills. 

The weather today was just as hot as yesterday, but there was a rise of humidity in the air that you could feel without even stepping outside. The sky looked thick and unpleasant, miraculously blue and clear, but still gross. As much as you wanted to hide away in your room and avoid the four hour exam that awaited you, it wasn’t in the cards, and so begrudgingly you laced up your shoes and grabbed your favorite pen. It was a simple pen, nothing truly special about it, but since the day you’d stolen it from Natasha’s desk, it had been used for every paper exam. The gold lettering across the black body, the name of her and Wanda’s company, was beginning to scratch and chip from the conditions you carried it through. And for being something so beloved, anyone would have thought that you’d treat it with respect, but you released copious amounts of anger and frustration on the ballpoint pen. Your teeth dug into it when you didn’t know an answer, your nails scraped at the paint when the words you had stored away in your memory felt impossible to grasp, and there were countless times that the entire pen sat dismantled and in pieces on your desk when you just needed something else to focus on for a few seconds. During one exam, you’d taken it apart mid-way through. The spring had bounced from between your fingertips and ended up halfway across the room. Your professor was a real bitch, and hadn’t let you retrieve the piece until every single person had already left and finished. You passed the exam, but not by much, and you blamed your grade on the fact that you had to finish it with a purple gel pen that was less than special. You wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Leaving your room behind, you walked to the classroom that you’d be sitting the exam in. It wasn’t a building you were familiar with, and so you packed an extra ten minutes into your schedule to avoid being late. Flowers had started to bloom in the bushes, and the grass was so much greener then it had been in the dead of winter, but there was no comfort to be sought in this environment. Your university was fine, albeit a bit bland, but Westview had become your home. You thought Wanda’s flowers smelled sweeter then the ones planted here, and the grass in their yard was the brightest shade of green you’ve ever seen. You don’t know how they have the time to take such tender care with their plants, but it made sense for them. They were busy women, women with a fast paced life and career, but there were still mundane rituals that clung to their routine. Before the contract, it had been almost impossible to imagine CEO and world-class lawyer Natasha Maximoff taking out the trash, but now you know she does it every Wednesday. It was also impossible to imagine Wanda Maximoff on her knees and covered in mud, there was never even a wrinkle in her business attire when she returned from the office after sixteen hour days, but now you’re privy to the fact that she doesn’t shy away from getting dirty when she tends to the weeds in her garden. It’s the simple things that make their company so much better then what you’ve found at Sword University, but no matter how much you wish you could be in Westview with them, no amount of heel clicking could take you there. 

When you found the exam room, you noted that it was unpleasantly cold, and you cursed at your inability to have remembered to bring along a sweatshirt like Natasha had suggested. There was no consistency at school, some classrooms were blisteringly hot and you could work up a sweat in minutes just from sitting still, and some were so cold your fingers forgot how to function. It didn’t matter the season, or if you simply walked down the hallway, the temperature was never the same and it varied from room to room. You chose a desk near the windows. Not right next to them, knowing that it would get too hot if you were pressed right beside the uncovered sun, but close enough to still feel the lick of warmth as the golden beams of daylight nipped at your skin. It didn’t take much longer for your peers to start flooding in, and their presence brought another factor of warmth to the room, though it wasn’t much and some who hadn’t been lucky enough to find a seat near the windows shivered. You smiled at the familiar face of a student who had claimed the seat next to you. You didn’t have many friends, didn’t see the point in socializing when your focus needed to be academic, but you had grown fond of a few of the faces you saw every week. 

“This your last exam?” Monica Rambeau asked you, leaning in closer to your desk so that you wouldn’t have to shout over the other students in the room. You had seen her around since your very first class in freshman year, and you quickly became reliant on each other for notes if one of you happened to be sick and needed to miss a lecture you shared. Your major was complex, not entirely science related but not entirely separate either. You wanted to focus more on security and technology, but for some reason your school demanded that all computer science majors take chemistry and physics. Monica was good at both, you were not. She had saved your ass with her color coded notes too many times to ever ignore her small-talk. 

“Thankfully.” You laughed, tapping your pen against your desk anxiously. “I’m moving the rest of my shit out next week and then I’m spending the summer in Westview. What about you?” 

The brunette shook her head, and you winced in sympathy. As grueling as it had been to have most of your exams scheduled in the same week, save for the three classes that had requested papers and projects from you, it was nice to be done so soon into the exam period. You knew that some other unfortunate students would be stuck here for at least another week. “I have two more tomorrow, then I’m heading back to Louisiana. You ready for this?” 

“Not at all.” You laughed, though your jittery leg and fidgeting fingers easily gave away just how anxious you were. “Sitwell hasn’t made sense a day in his life, I doubt the exam will be any more coherent than his lectures.” 

Monica laughed loudly at your acquisition, but she nodded eagerly in agreement. “Tell me about it. I’ve been going over your study sheet for the last two weeks and I think I just barely understand the content from chapter one.” 

Your attention snapped to the door when it snapped open again, but unlike the last handful of times, it wasn’t a student that entered, it was your Professor Jasper Sitwell himself, and in his hands were thick bundles of paper that would determine the next year of your life. If you failed this exam, you could kiss your paid for tuition goodbye. You appreciated Monica’s attention to body language, because she seemed to get the hint that you were in no mood to continue your conversation now that Sitwell had arrived. She still offered you a smile though, a whispered ‘good luck’, before she turned straight in her desk and placed three colored pens down firmly. Leave it to Monica to remain dedicated to her color coding even at the end of the semester. 

The time had flown by after that. You’d groaned when you saw that the estimated time of this exam would be four hours, but now you felt like that wasn’t nearly enough. The first six pages of questions had come easily to you, though it was still challenging and you doubted that most of your answers were entirely correct, but the last page had stumped you rather quickly and entirely. You jumped between questions, filling in pieces of information when they came to mind, but nothing could jog your memory when you were confronted with the very last question of the exam. Your brows furrowed, a sheen of perspiration clung to your skin. Was it a trick question? No, a professor wouldn’t purposefully stump you when so much was on the line. Despite your confidence in Sitwell, you’re absolutely certain that you’ve never gone over any materials that even slightly relate to the last topic. You’ve read the textbook forward and backwards, you practically dreamed about this course material, but you had never seen these words present in any of the lectures. 

Your hand shot up from the desk before you could stop yourself, but by time you realized you were seeking attention from Sitwell, he had called you up to the front of the room. A glance at the clock on the wall beside the door told you there was just under twenty minutes left. By this point in an exam, most students would have been gone, but every single one of them still remained, and although you weren’t intentionally looking at anyone’s paper, the few that you had seen had all been open on the last page. You weren’t the only one confused.

“How can I help you, Ms. Y/L/N?” Sitwell kept his voice quiet, and like always, detached. You wondered how a man who seemed to hate every person even remotely younger than himself had found a profession in teaching, but you didn’t let his attitude deter you from asking anyway. This question could very easily make you seem like an idiot, but you were confident in yourself, and well, Jasper Sitwell seemed exactly the type to make a mistake like this. 

Matching his quiet tone, assuring that only the first row of students could hear you, you laid your exam in front of him and pointed out the question. “This isn’t related to your course, sir. It’s not in the textbook, and we’ve never gone over it in a lecture.” 

You waited for the moment he berated you for questioning his exam but it never came. When you grew the balls to look up at him, you found a smirk of satisfaction on his lips. “You’re correct. That question has no value in this course. It’s been on my exam for the last ten years and nobody has ever questioned me. Congratulations, Ms. Y/L/N, it seems somebody has finally read the textbook.” 

A look of sheer bewilderment crossed your face, but Sitwell gave you no chance to speak again before he promptly took the exam from your hands and kept it at his side. Anxiety shot through your stomach when you realized that he wasn’t going to give it back to you. There was still thirteen minutes left on the clock, and you’d intended to spend every last second meticulously checking your work until he had to pry it from your fingertips when time ran out. So much could be wrong about your answers, you could’ve missed a question or twenty, and now you’d have no way of knowing because he wouldn’t give it back. 

“Be on your way.” He nodded toward the door when you didn’t budge. There was no use arguing with him, he never listened anyways, but you couldn’t just walk away without checking over your paper one last time. 

“Sir, I still have time to go over my answers.” You weakly protested, a single palm extended in the direction of your exam, hoping that for once he was willing to budge. No luck, his jaw clenched and his eyes hardened, and you took that as a sign to get the hell out of dodge before he did something drastic like rip your exam in half. You would never be taking another class from him again, if you even got the chance to finish your degree. 

With a sigh of defeat, you headed back to your desk, collected your lucky pen, and waved subtly in Monica’s direction before you headed to the door and broke away from anything and everything even remotely related to academics for the next three months. 

-

Ever since childhood, you have adored the sight of the sun in the spring and summer months. Not in the middle of the day when it was blinding and heavy, but toward the approach of night when everything it’s surface could touch was brightened by ripples of violet and peach presence. Tonight had been the first expanse of light across the shoretown the Maximoff’s lived in, and though they’d both been home all day with a rare break from office obligations, their cars were warm to the touch when you passed by them in the driveway. 

Despite the warm air and lingerance of sunshine off in the horizon, your disposition was reflective of the colder times when attitudes clashed and people let themselves fall inward. You’d been blind to the change in mood as a child. There was no bad time of year when you were seven and strangers stopped to compliment your velcro shoes as they passed, but now that adulthood had claimed what remained of your innocence, you’d been shown the true nature of winter and fall. The first time you realized that strangers were nicer in the summer, you’d been fifteen. Admittedly, that was a bit old to only just be realizing that life was cruel and people were snobs, but you’d always been an optimist; you still are an optimist. You vowed to never become someone so mean after that day, but that was yet another promise you had failed to keep for yourself. 

Your face is set in a permanent scowl, which seems to be the new normal as Wanda and Natasha move about around you. Your arms are crossed in front of your chest, your eyes staring straight ahead of you at the movie that’s playing in the background. They’re attempting to get the house straightened up, something about hosting a barbeque over the weekend and not wanting to leave the mess to deal with at a later date. Had you been in a better mood, you would’ve offered to help, would’ve laughed and joked along with them, but the unknown of your last exam has firmly pushed you over the edge and now every minor inconvenience is working on your last available nerve. 

Wanda laughs at something Natasha whispers in her ear, the two of them somehow always finding a reason to gravitate toward one another despite the many different tasks that still needed to be accomplished. You didn’t think the house was as messy as Wanda claimed, but you hadn’t offered her that briefest sentence of reassurance. When you walked in, defeat heavy on your shoulders as you over analyzed the exchange between yourself and Professor Sitwell, you’d wanted nothing more than to fall into Natasha’s lap and let her distract you however she saw fit. She had, for a couple minutes at least, but then she’d pushed you out of her embrace and had started helping Wanda around the house. The Sokovian was practically on a mission to regain some order, dusting bookshelves and tables, collecting stray blankets that had made their way into the living room and across random furniture pieces. It hadn’t looked messy, just lived in, but that wasn’t good enough. 

“Can you lift your feet for a second?” The taller of the pair looked at you expectantly, the neck of their expensive vacuum clutched between her ringed fingers. She hadn’t been the slightest bit deterred by your poor attitude when you came barreling into the house and hadn’t even offered her so much as a hello before you plopped down in Natasha’s lap and dug your face into her neck, and she had even let you put your feet up on her coffee table when eventually the Russian left your side start cleaning. She had been very patient with you, knowing how nervous you were about the exam and your results, but much like yours, her patience wasn’t unlimited. “I asked you a question, I expect an answer.” 

You huffed, readjusting yourself on the couch, though you still didn’t move your legs out of her way. Natasha watched the scene unfold with an uninterpretable expression in her eyes. She was aware of how you’d been testing Wanda more and more as the weeks went by, and she had warned you that it was only a matter of time before the woman snapped and dealt with your attitude by her own measures. Three weeks ago, that would’ve been enough to scare you into submission, but you had shrugged off her warning to stop pushing boundaries, entirely uninterested in the conversation she was trying to have. 

Wanda sighed and let go of the vacuum, resting it against the couch to be grabbed again later. You’d expected her to move onto a different task, maybe even march her way upstairs until you changed your attitude, but when her hands grabbed at your ankles and harshly removed them from the coffee table, you gasped in shock and flinched away from her touch, a glare settled in her direction. 

“Stop!” You whined, kicking your foot out in her direction as a weak attempt at retaliation, but you made no attempt to put them back on the coffee table. Instead, you extended them outward, taking up almost the entire length of the couch. Not that it mattered, neither one of them were planning on sitting down with you anytime soon. Wanda quirked an eyebrow down at you, an expression that you were getting seriously tired of, before she reached for the remote and turned off the television. “I was watching that!” You cried out in annoyance, reaching for the remote that was held away from your hands. 

“Good girls get to watch movies.”  She simply stated and handed the remote over to Natasha, who seemed to know exactly where it needed to go. The remote was promptly placed on one of the highest shelves in the room, and the fact that it had been done on purpose because she knew you wouldn’t be able to reach that high without a stool only angered you further. 

“So what? You’re gonna ground me? I’m not a child.” You snapped at her, your voice tinged with what could only be described as pure venom. The snarky comments you’d been making for days seemed like child's play now, at least then you’d had the decency to show her some semblance of respect, but now, there wasn’t an ounce of anything kind in your tone. 

“If you’re going to act like one, I’m going to treat you like one. I have been more than patient with you, even though you’re being nothing short of a brat. My willingness to ignore your little attitude will not last much longer, so I suggest you get over yourself before I have you over my lap.” Her words should’ve scared you, they should’ve worked as a last ditch effort to get you to behave, but if anything, it only spurred you on further. You were beyond the point of simply wanting some kind of punishment. Unlike in recent days when it had been a tickle at the back of your mind, now you desperately needed it. The end of the semester always felt like the biggest relief until it actually came, and you were left with no productive purpose to fulfill. You needed a push in the right direction, and now that you had been introduced to this dynamic, where Natasha was more than willing to make decisions for you and take care of you, you wanted to fall right into that state of comfort and control. Your mind wouldn’t let you stop thinking though, and no matter how hard you pleaded with yourself to just let her take the reins, control would not be so easily relinquished. It had been weeks since your last spanking. Days since the last time she had fucked you hard enough to cause you to slip into subspace. For months you’d been shown and taught about the beauty of this dynamic, and it was just suddenly beginning to fall away. You knew that you didn’t need to be naughty to receive a spanking, knew that if you asked she’d be more than happy to provide it, but you didn’t want to need her just to feel content. It was like a double-edged sword had rammed its way into your brain and every time you turned your head you fought between completely surrendering control and always maintaining it. 

“If I’m a brat then you’re a bitch.” You met Wanda’s stare, there was no backing down now. You were so close to what you wanted, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to care that it wasn’t Natasha you were seeking it from. Ever since that night curled up in her arms when the world felt like it was ending, something was undeniably different. You didn’t want to crave her but you did, and the longer she refused to play into your games, the more you wanted her. She was scary when she was mad, terrifying when she was livid, but somehow you had crossed both of those thresholds in only one sentence. There was something dark in her eyes that you’d never seen before, and it made your stomach twist into knots knowing that you were the sole reason she had lost her happy spark. She radiated dominance, expelled the radiant energy of someone who knew they had control, even if for the briefest second, you had been foolish enough to think you were the one with it. It wasn’t anger or frustration in her eyes, although they were both present, but rather dominance. You’d seen her be dominant, you’d been scolded by her many times, but it had always been concealed. She had always remained respectful of your boundaries and control to Natasha only, but you had pushed her too far. Things had changed too much. Neither of you were the women you had been at the start of this situation, and it was only a matter of time before the carpet rolled beneath your feet and you had to face the music. 

“Get upstairs.” She demanded of you, and for the first time since showing up, you didn’t have the words to fight. You scrambled off the couch and practically flew toward the stairs, only to stop halfway up when you realized you didn’t know where she wanted you to go. 

“Our bedroom, honey.” Natasha called after you, having watched the entire thing unfold. Now that you realized what position you had walked yourself into, there was anxiety flooding your desperate gaze as you pleaded with her to save you. Natasha wouldn’t save you this time though. She had warned you, told you that you wouldn’t like the trap you were walking yourself into, but you hadn’t listened. “I’ll be up to talk with you in a second, it’s okay.” 

“Y/N, if you are not in that room in the next twenty seconds, I will not be so kind as to give you the choice about what I spank your ass with.” Wanda’s voice was level, it didn’t waver like you knew yours would if you even dared to try and speak. You nodded frantically, scrambling to get up the stairs and into their bedroom before the countdown in your head got down to zero. 

You didn’t know what to do once you were inside, didn’t know if you should close the door or leave it open, didn’t know if you should sit on the bed or continue to stand beside it. You’d never been alone in their bedroom, it felt like an odd invasion of privacy now that you were. Your mind reeled with endless possibilities, though none of them pleasant. Wanda was going to spank you, she had practically promised that, but what else would she do? Would she make you terminate your contract with Natasha because you’d called her a bitch? Would she slap you around like your father had done when you’d ever dared to disrespect him so aggressively? Tears pricked your eyes at all of your unanswered questions, and you noted that this feeling in your belly was distinctly different then the times when Natasha pulled you over her lap. You’d gotten a handful of punishments before, of course you have because even though you like being good for her, it’s still fun to act out, but those punishments had always been light with the unspoken promise of sexual relief afterward. This was the first time you’d ever actually been punished outside of sexual interactions. This was the first time you’d ever pissed Wanda off enough to be the one who dealt the cards. So much was changing and you couldn’t keep up, but really there was nothing for you to keep up with. You didn’t know what would happen next, you had never been in this situation before. 

The floorboards creaked beneath footsteps, and you noted that just beyond the window not covered by blinds, the sunshine had finally settled. Nothing was left to see beside darkened skies and the roofs of all of the other houses on the block, though even then the sight was void of any actual interest. The Maximoff residence was the largest on the block, and it towered over the houses that sat on both sides of it. You’d always thought that CEO’s lived in big lavish mansions, but Wanda and Natasha had chosen a perfectly normal town to settle down in. They had expensive cars, sure, but that wasn’t even a fraction of the money they had. They were total anomalies, and that fact was only making you grow more uneasy. 

“Detka.” Natasha sighed, and you were thankful it was only her that had entered. Had Wanda been with her, you would’ve spiral face down into a panic attack that couldn’t be stopped. “I warned you, did I not?” 

You sighed, knowing that there was no time for her to give you all the reassurances you needed. Wanda was being kind enough to let Natasha check in on you, but you doubted she had the patience to sit downstairs for hours as you pleaded with your dominant to give you answers even she didn’t have. “J-Just tell me what’s gonna happen. I need to know what’s going to happen.” 

“She’s going to spank you, and then she’s going to hold you, and reassure you that you’re okay. No different from what I do. Are you okay with her spanking you? I know we’ve talked about it, but this isn’t the funishment you thought you’d be getting when we agreed to those conditions, huh?” Natasha collected you into her arms, being surprisingly gentle with you despite the fact that you had just called her wife a bitch. You shook your head against her chest, fisting her loose fitting t-shirt in your heads, fearing that she would pull away far too early for your liking. 

“I wanted you to spank me.” You admitted sheepishly into her touch, sighing softly when her fingers tangled into your hair and gently worked out the knots that lingered near the ends. “I’ve been good and you’ve been… soft. And I just can’t get my brain to be quiet, and I wanted you to spank me so I kept trying to push your buttons and you just kept forgiving me.” 

“Daddy’s been pretty lenient with you, hasn’t she?” Natasha cooed, not placing blame on your shoulders even though you knew she very easily could have. You nodded in response to her question, feeling better now that she was aware of the root cause of your attitude, even if that didn’t save you from Wanda’s wrath. “You’ve been breaking a lot of rules, rules that Wanda’s aware of.” 

“She’s gonna give me ten for every one, isn’t she?” You winced, knowing that this would not be a pleasant experience and your ass was sure to hurt every time you sat down for at least the next week. 

“She is, and it’s going to hurt. It’s supposed to hurt, but she’s not going to push you farther than you can handle. What do you call if you need a break?” Natasha asked sweetly, pulling your face away from her chest and holding your cheeks in her hands, forcing you to look up into her eyes and see that there's no lingering resentment or anger. 

“Yellow.” You answered, the word engraved in your brain despite having never needed to call it. “Red if I need it to stop completely. But… we’re not playing.” 

“Just because she’s not going to touch you after doesn’t mean that it’s okay for her to break you, detka. Is that what you thought was going to happen?” Natasha frowns, her lips turning deeper downward when you nodded as an answer. 

“My dad… punished me with violence. He didn’t stop until he wanted to. You’ve only ever punished me sexually, not because I purposely broke the outside rules.” You whispered, another hint at your traumatic past hanging in the air. “I called her a bitch. I tried to kick her. I pushed her in the store yesterday.” You admitted, though when there was no reaction, you guessed that Wanda had already told her. 

“Because you needed space. She is not going to punish you for that. She’s going to punish you because you were being disrespectful, and because you need it, huh? You need help getting that brain to shut off. You did so many big things this week, I bet it’s not that easy to just come back to this dynamic and allow us to take control when you’ve been the one in charge all week.” Natasha whispered knowingly, a glint in her eyes that reassured you of her understanding. “Finals are stressful. When Wanda and I were in college, we used to go at each other until we were red in the face and then we’d move on like nothing happened. We get it, milaya. We don’t expect you to be good at this yet, or to know how to ask for what you need. You can stop thinking the world is going to end because you made a mistake.” 

“I meant to call her a bitch, but I didn’t actually mean it.” You admitted softly and Natasha chuckled, pulling you in closer and laying a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“We both know what you meant, malyshka. She’s not downstairs brewing in anger, even though I’m sure that’s what you’re thinking. This dynamic is not about fear and power. I should’ve explained that better. You have all the power here, honey, but just like you can call red, so can she. It’s a balance, a team effort. You got it?” 

“I got it.” You sighed, leaning into her touch, wishing you could just surrender to this moment for the rest of your life, but there was no way that was happening. As daunting as it was, you needed Wanda to punish you. You want to let go of the guilt, you want to relinquish control and just listen to what they ask of you. “I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not the one you need to be apologizing to, but it’s okay. You did nothing wrong, even if I don’t exactly like you calling my wife a bitch.” She teased, her fingers leaving your cheeks to trail down toward your ribs where she knows your ticklish. You shrieked in response, wiggling away from her fingers just in time for Wanda to knock on the open bedroom door and announce her presence. 

She was significantly calmer then she had been downstairs, and that faint lick of anger in her eyes had settled to dust, but she still captivated you and sought for your submission. Her eyes were green, you forced yourself to remember that fact. They weren’t overcome with blackness like all the other times you’ve awaited punishment, but thoughts of your childhood didn’t even come to mind as you let yourself be present in this moment. This was not your childhood. The second you needed this to stop, or you needed her to slow down, you had to say one simple word and it would. As much as this act was about you giving over control, you knew that the reality was you would never be fully powerless.

You didn’t know what to say, if you should even say anything at all, so you merely waved your hand in Wanda’s direction, not wanting to completely ignore her. She smiled softly at you, not softening her body language, but at least her face mirrored your greeting. 

“Hi, malen’kaya.” She laughed softly, and you were relieved to find that Natasha had been being honest about Wanda not brewing in her anger, though you hadn’t really doubted her, just needed that validation for yourself. “You talk to Natty?” 

“Mmhm.” You nodded your head, unaware of how your hand still tangled in the fabric of Natasha’s t-shirt gripped onto her harshly. It was an unconscious thing, but was quickly soothed by a kiss being placed into your hairline. 

“I’m gonna be right here, ангел. If I think you need to call red and you’re not doing it yourself, I’m going to call it. Nothing bad is going to happen.” She promised, and you felt better at the proposition that she’d be looking out for you as well. 

“That was quite the show you put on downstairs.” Wanda mused, her face back to that blank slate of dominance that made your palms clammy. You stepped closer to Natasha, just barely managing to nod your head at her admission. “Come with me.” 

“Go ahead, I’ll still be here.” Natasha sent you toward Wanda with a gentle shove, and when you looked back at her over your shoulder, she merely smiled in reassurance. 

Wanda led you over to the walk-in closet You’d never been inside, but you’d seen Natasha disappear into it after a scene, usually when she was scrounging around to find a specific cooling lotion for your ass. Wanda didn’t make any efforts to invade your space, giving you time to accept your fate on your own accord. The space was large, and there were no shortage of dresses and suits hung up on the taller racks. You smiled softly at a purple suit in the corner, wondering which of the two women it belonged to. 

“That’s Natasha’s.” Wanda hummed, seeming to follow your eye toward the suit. “That’s not why we're in here though.” 

You nodded, pulling your eye away from the suit in favor of following whatever box Wanda was pointing out. It was large and black, one of the only objects in the closet that looked like it didn’t really belong. She walked over to it, getting down on her knees and motioning for you to do the same. 

“I can either spank you with my hand, or with a paddle.” You swallowed thickly at your options, but nodded your head and looked down at the case that Wanda had pulled open. Your eyes practically bulged out of your head at the sight of so many sex toys, but Wanda merely laughed at your flushed cheeks. “Natasha isn’t much a fan of being paddled. It stings and will burn for longer than a hand spanking does, but she has received plenty of both.” There’s a tinge of fond exasperation in Wanda’s words that make you think Natasha is better at asking for what she needs than you are, and that most of the spankings Wanda’s internally recounting aren’t all derived from punishment. You remember the conversation you had weeks ago, where Wanda had confirmed that Natasha was the submissive in their relationship. 

“I don’t want that.” You whispered, shaking your head adamantly. “Never.” 

“Okay. That’s perfectly okay. Not everyone likes instruments being used for a spanking. This is the lotion I’m going to put on you afterward. It’s the same one Natasha uses, but I want you to know what to expect.” Wanda gives you the bottle, and you don’t even bother to look down at it, entirely focused on her face. There’s something different about her like this, so easily dominant and captivating, you want to commit this new energy to memory. “You’re going to get fifty spanks. If you need to slow down, or if you need to stop, I expect that you call your safewords. If I need to stop, I’m going to call mine. Part of your punishment is that you will not be receiving an orgasm afterward. You're lucky I haven’t taken them away for the next week.” 

You gulped, suddenly remembering that this was a punishment, although you didn’t know how you could have forgotten that fact. Wanda smirked in amusement at your flushed features, and tenderly she reached up to smoothing stray strands of hair away from your face. “Can I kiss you?” She asked quietly, and although it was Wanda not Natasha, you nodded eagerly. You didn’t hate her, you didn’t dislike her, you wanted her just as badly as you wanted Natasha. You didn’t know how you’d been so blind to that fact for so long. “Words, detka.” 

“Yes.” You breathed out, already leaning into her touch when she set her hands on your cheeks and pulled your face into hers. Her lips were soft beneath yours, softer than Natasha’s, and she tasted like the fakest cherries. Her tongue swiped across your bottom lip, asking for entrance rather than demanding it. You didn’t hesitate to let her in, moaning softly into her mouth when her hot and heavy tongue licked against yours and officially claimed you the way you had seen it do to Natasha on a handful of occasions. 

You don’t know how many minutes had passed as you sat on the floor of the walk-in closet, but when Wanda finally pulled away from you, her chest rising and falling faster than it had been before, your cheeks were flush for more than one reason. 

“You can’t kiss me like that after you tell me I’m not allowed to cum tonight.” You whined softly, squirming on the floor as your arousal made its presence known between your legs. Wanda laughed in amusement, a dangerous smirk playing on her lips. 

“I guess little girls need to learn how to behave if they want something from Mommy then.” The softest inch of her accent had drifted into the words, and if that wasn’t enough to send a rush of pleasure straight to your core, the added bonus of her title was. You whined desperately, your thighs rubbing together as you sought out even a second of relief. Flashes of Natasha teasing you on the phone came to mind, and the lust in your eyes only intensified. “Enough.” Wanda scolded, “I want you naked and bent over the bed in the next three minutes.” 

You nodded obediently, having done enough arguing for the night. You got to your feet with the same grace as bambi, practically bolting out of the closet and into the bedroom. You giggled softly when you realized that your first kiss with the lawyer who was very proudly a lesbian had been in a closet of all places. 

“There’s no way whatever happened in that closet deserves to be laughed about.” Natasha quirked an eyebrow in your direction, though it was significantly less scary then when Wanda did it. She watched you strip out of your clothes hurriedly, not sparing the few minutes you had been given to fold them nicely in a pile. 

“Your wife is a lesbian.” You deadpanned, though you knew Natasha was very much aware of that fact if the felt pride flag in what you assumed was Wanda’s side of the closet had ever caught her attention. 

“Yes, thank you for stating the obvious.” 

“And she just kissed me in the closet.” You giggled, and Natasha couldn’t say that she wasn’t equally as amused as you were, but she had the decency to control her laughter in front of Wanda, who you hadn’t even realized was standing right behind you. 

“If you don’t want me to add another ten onto your fifty, you’ll bend your ass over my bed and stop making me wait.” Your blood went cold and your spine straightened as you felt the softest trace of Wanda’s warm breath against the shell of your ear. The warning didn’t need to be whispered twice, because you were already scrambling to get into position, a lot less nervous then you had been before. “I want you to count them all. If you miss one, I add two more.” 

“Okay.” You whispered, already fisting the comforter in your hands, waiting for the first strike to land against your uncovered ass. You didn’t even have it in your to be embarrassed about Wanda seeing you so exposed, just wanting to get this situation over with so that you could fall face first into Natasha’s chest. 

“Is that how we address our dominants now?” Wanda practically growled, standing so closer to you that you could feel the heat of her body radiating onto yours. 

“Yes, Mommy.” You fixed your mistake, your eyes pinched closed as you pushed your hips backward until they met her thighs, unconsciously seeking relief for your clit that was pulsing between your legs. You shrieked in surprise when she abruptly stepped away and laid the first hit onto your left cheek in only a matter of seconds. It didn’t take a genius to know that Wanda was well practiced in this domain. The spank was hard, significantly harder then Natasha had ever started out with, and you knew you were in for it with the promise of forty-nine more to come. “One, Mommy.” 

Your grip on the comforter got tighter and tighter with each spank that came next until your knuckles were white and your chin trembled from the onslaught of pain. At the thirteenth spank, you moaned in pleasure, and your hips bucked backward  desperately searching for pressure between your thighs that never came and wouldn’t come. Wanda’s laughter was anything but genuine behind you, and you didn’t even want to imagine what you must look like to her; bent over the bed she shares with her wife, your ass pink from the assault of her palm, and arousal dampening the insides of your thighs. 

“So much for not having a pain kink.” She mused, though she wasn’t really talking to you. Natasha was sitting at the head of the bed with a smug gleam in her eyes, and you knew the sight of you like this was turning her on, if the dilation in her pupils was any indication of that fact. “Little slut is dripping.” You gasped when soft fingers ran over your ass, dipping lower and lower until they found your empty entrance that begged for anything to fill it, be it a dildo or the fingers of the woman who was responsible for pushing you into this state. “Do you like when Mommy hits you?” 

“Yes.” You whine, not even attempting to keep your hips still as Wanda collects your arousal on the tips of her fingers, but like promised, never reaches your clit. You cried out your protests when her fingers left your core, only for you to gasp in shock when she leaned forward on the bed and fed them expectantly to Natasha who let her mouth fall open in acceptance.

The redhead moaned at the taste of you on her tongue, lapping at Wanda’s fingers until they were clean of your excitement. A needy moan left your lips seeing the blissful expression on the face of your dominant, and desperately you reached out for her hand that laid next to yours overtop of the white blankets on the bed. She let you grasp it, let you squeeze it and pull at it, but she never leaned in any closer to you. This was a punishment, you would not be rewarded midway through. 

Wanda’s additional weight caused the bed to dip, and you had to readjust your stance to keep from slipping onto the floor. She wasn’t behind you anymore, rather perched on the bed beside your body, leaning in close to her wife whose lips shone in the dim lighting of the room with traces of your arousal. Wanda kissed her deeply, the wet sounds their moving mouths made taunting you further, and you groaned in response to their teasing. The lawyer who hadn’t even gotten halfway through your punishment moaned at the taste of you on her tongue, only pulling away from Natasha when she needed a break for air. 

She was back behind the second she was breathing normally, and the fourteenth spank came in the same place her thirteenth one had. You counted out the spanks as they came, but other than the contact her palm made with your ass, you were properly ignored. If Wanda made a comment, it was directed to Natasha, and the one time you had been bold enough to answer for yourself, you had been met with a spank to the back of your thigh that was admittedly very soft and careful. 

It was after twenty that you no longer found pleasure in her hits, and your moans and whines had turned to cries and sobs. Natasha held your hand firmly, her thumb rubbing against your knuckles as you took your punishment well. Wanda was proud of you, even if she hadn’t told you that yet. 

“F-forty!” You sobbed out, arching away from the lawyer's hand only seconds after it came down on your ass. Your entire body ached from the position you were half-stood in, your cunt pulsed with need, but your ass was on fire and you had no doubt that it would be bruised by sunrise tomorrow. “Please.” You cried out, but you didn’t even know what you were begging for.  

“You’re doing so good. You’re doing so good for me, milaya.” Wanda soothed you quickly and effectively, her tone soft and gentle as she let you have your feelings. The heavy hand that had been assaulting your skin for the last twenty minutes if the clock on her bedside table was accurate was suddenly soft as she rubbed soft circles on your ass, soothing the sting into a more bearable ache. “Ten more and then we can cuddle. Why don’t you let Natty’s hand go and she’ll go get you some water.” 

“N-No! No! Natty stay!” You held onto her desperately, like even the suggestion of her leaving would make it come true. 

“I’m staying, malyshka. I’m staying.” Natasha assured you, scooting closer to your trembling body so she could lay a hand on your naked back, her firm touch grounding you in this moment where both of your dominants were with you. “You’re okay. You’re being so good. Such a good girl. Ten more baby, think you can do that?” 

You nodded albeit weakly, and Wanda took that as her sign to keep going, to get this over with so that she could put her efforts into comforting you. It was on the last spank that you had crumbled completely, going limp against the bed as you sobbed in relief. You made the decision that you never wanted to piss Wanda off to this extent again. 

“Good girl. You were so good. Took your spanking so well.” Wanda helped you stand up, spinning you around so that her eyes could meet yours for the first time in half an hour. 

“Mommy.” You sobbed, falling face first into her chest, clutching the fabric of her shirt in your trembling fists. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You repeated it like a mantra, sobs and sniffles the only other audible sound that you could hear. You didn’t recognize Wanda praising you for taking your punishment so well, you didn’t hear her whisper of a promise that it was over and you were forgiven. You hadn’t even realized that Natasha had promptly left the bedroom and gone down to the kitchen to retrieve water and a snack if you wanted it. 

“Hey, hey. Look at me, look at Mommy.” Wanda coaxed your attention up at her, pulling your face out of the pit of darkness you had found against her chest. “You’re okay. It’s over. It’s all over.” 

You nodded weakly, letting Wanda guide you into the middle of the bed and onto your belly. As promised, she rubbed the cooling lotion into your skin, mumbling soft praises beneath her breath whenever you flinched away from the contact. The soft cooling effect hadn’t taken long to set in, and when it did, it was like an immediate sense of relief had washed over your senses, though everything was still foggy and far away. You only barely recognized Natasha sitting down beside you, but you whined in protest when she tried to pull you into her side, reaching out to Wanda with a pleading look in your eyes that neither one of them could ignore. 

It hurt to sit, that was putting it lightly, but you forced yourself up into a sitting position so that you could accept the bottle of water Natasha offered. She held it up to your lips as you gulped it down quickly, finishing half the bottle before she pulled it away, worried that you’d upset your stomach if you drank it all so quickly. Wanda had laid down beside you, forcing you onto her chest to alleviate the discomfort in your bottom. With your head on her chest, your legs between hers, your eyes searched for Natasha as she moved around the room, collecting pajamas and a wet washcloth that would be used to clean up the unfixed mess between your legs. 

The first pass of the warm fabric between your legs had rubbed against your clit accidentally, and you moaned in pleasure that was quickly taken away. “Sorry, sweetheart. Not tonight.” She shushed your cries softly, though it didn’t make you any happier. You wiggled against Wanda at the uncomfortable feeling you weren’t used to being left with, and she didn’t try to stop you from rubbing your legs together. 

“Tomorrow.” She whispered against your temple when you grew frustrated at not being able to fully satisfy the ache. “The more you move the worse it’s going to get. Mommy will take care of you tomorrow, just rest for right now. Close your eyes, detka.” 

When Wanda’s finger attempted to wipe the fallen tears off your cheeks, you were quick to capture the finger between your teeth, and she didn’t even stop you. She smiled down at your flushed face, feeling more than content with your current clinginess. She knew you were down pretty far in that floaty headspace Natasha managed to ease you into every so often, and pride swelled in her chest knowing you were comfortable enough to allow her the privilege of not only seeing you this way, but making you this way. 

“Ten bucks says she doesn’t leave your side tomorrow.” Natasha had hummed softly once she was sure you were asleep, only half dressed in the pajamas she had pulled out of the dresser for you. The shorts on your legs were a pair of hers, but you had been adamant against her putting the t-shirt on your body when you realized it entailed pulling away from Wanda’s chest. 

Wanda rolled her eyes, though there was a fond smile on her lips that gave away her true feelings about this shift in your dynamic. Not perfect, but getting there. “I’m not making a deal, I know I’ll lose, Romanoff.” 

“It’s Maximoff. Or did you forget?” Natasha quirked an auburn eyebrow, mirroring the expression Wanda had mastered after years of practice. She leaned over your body, careful not to jostle you too much and rouse you from slumber, and she kissed her wide softly, though the taste of your arousal still clung to her taste buds, and when Wanda realized, she shoved her away. 

“If you keep kissing me when you taste like her I’ll never be taken seriously again.” The Sokovian warned, already addicted to the taste of your arousal, though she took punishment seriously, and it wouldn't be until the early afternoon settled overtop of Westview tomorrow when you found out just how good she is with her tongue.

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Calamitous Love.

Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

Summary: After an accident, many memories are wiped from your mind. Luckily, your fiancé is always by your side...but were you planning to break off the engagement before the accident?

Words: 3,7k.

Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. mention of injuries, serial killers, memory loss, traffic accident. SO bittersweet. angst with open ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I am just like Matthew and sometimes I love to traumatize Spencer, I’m sorry but I miss the one shots.

Spencer Reid was the perfect man. His bright brown eyes, warm and impossibly sincere, never lied. His thin lips had a special way of puckering when he thought too much, a telltale sign of his mind working through puzzles only he could solve. And his heart, the purest you had ever known, overflowed with kindness, empathy, and a love so profound it felt almost unreal. Spencer Reid was smart, brilliant beyond measure, with a mind that held an entire universe of knowledge. He could recite the most obscure facts with ease, analyze the most complex theories in seconds, and yet, the most precious thing about him was his willingness to learn how to love you the way you needed to be loved. He observed, listened, and adapted, making sure every touch, every word, and every glance was precisely what would make you feel cherished. Because Spencer Reid was everything anyone could wish to have, and yet, against all odds, you were the lucky one who had him.

You happily reminded yourself of that every single day as you looked down at your engagement ring, the one he had given you, a tangible reminder that he had chosen you just as wholeheartedly as you had chosen him, for a lifetime together.

When you thought of marriage to him, it wasn’t just about the idea of forever. It was the depth of what that forever would mean. You remembered the moment he knelt before you, hands trembling slightly, asking the question you’d only ever dreamed of hearing. You didn’t just picture him standing at the altar, waiting for you to approach in your beautiful dress. No, you thought about everything that would come after, how it would feel to swear to love each other through all of life’s trials, even beyond death. You imagined growing old by his side, sharing the quiet moments as the years went by, and how those ordinary moments would become extraordinary in his presence. You thought about starting a family, building a life together, and raising children in a home filled with the same love and devotion you had always dreamed of.

Together through thick and thin. That thought echoed in your mind, looping over and over as you slowly drifted back to consciousness. The first thing you registered was the dull ache spreading through your body, a heavy, lingering pain that made every breath feel just a little too sharp. The sterile scent of antiseptic flooded your senses, mixing with the faint, artificial coolness of the hospital air. The steady beeping of machines provided a rhythmic pulse to the silence. Blinking against the dim light, your gaze slowly adjusted to your surroundings. The faint glow of a monitor, the crisp white sheets draped over you, the IV taped to your arm. But none of it answered the one question that burned in your mind. What happened?

Then, your eyes found him.

Spencer.

He was curled up on the couch beside you, his head leaning against the backrest, his posture weighed down by exhaustion. His long limbs were awkwardly folded, his body hunched forward in a way that made it clear he hadn’t moved in hours. Dark circles bruised the delicate skin beneath his eyes, and yet, even in sleep, he remained tethered to you. His fingers barely grazed the edge of your gurney, as if even unconscious, he needed to be close. Needed to feel you were still there.

Your gaze drifted lower, catching the soft gleam of metal on his finger. The engagement ring. A silent promise. A future you had once envisioned so clearly. And without thinking, you glanced at your own hand, expecting the comforting weight of your matching ring. But all you found was the sterile chill of the IV line taped to your skin. Your heart stuttered. A small, uneasy pit settled in your stomach. Where is it?

You looked up just as Spencer stirred, his body shifting as he slowly blinked awake. A groggy hand dragged across his face, fingers rubbing at his tired eyes in an attempt to shake off the haze of sleep. And then, his gaze landed on you.

Relief hit him like a crashing wave. His posture snapped upright, exhaustion momentarily forgotten as his entire focus narrowed in on you. The sheer intensity of his expression sent warmth flooding through your chest, his eyes roamed your face as if memorizing every detail, as if needing to reassure himself that you were really okay.

“You’re awake,” he breathed, his voice rough from sleep, yet thick with emotion. His hand moved toward yours instinctively, but then he hesitated, hovering for just a moment, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, as if he feared you might pull away. But when you didn’t, his fingers brushed against your skin, hesitant yet desperate for contact. “How do you feel? Are you in pain? Should I get a nurse?”

Your lips parted to answer, but the words didn’t come immediately. Your throat was dry, and your mind was sluggish, struggling to pull itself together. The memories that flickered in your mind felt like fragments of a broken puzzle, pieces that were out of reach, not quite forming a whole picture. The last thing you could clearly recall felt distant, blurred at the edges like a forgotten dream, slipping through your fingers as you tried desperately to hold onto it.

You cleared your throat, your voice low, barely above a whisper. “What…happened? Why am I here?”

Your fiancé's expression shifted instantly, relief giving way to something heavier, something uncertain. His fingers curled slightly against your hand, his grip featherlight yet steady, as if afraid he might hurt you. He exhaled a slow, measured breath, gathering his thoughts before answering.

“You were in a car accident,” he said softly, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of the words, though he kept his gaze steady on you.

A car accident.

The words felt foreign, distant, like they belonged to someone else’s reality, not yours. Of all the ways you could have been hurt, this was the least likely, the least expected. Your life was a constant dance with danger, chasing monsters through dark alleyways, walking into crime scenes still heavy with the ghosts of violence, facing down men who thrived on fear. Those were the risks you understood, the dangers you had accepted long ago.

But this? This was ordinary. This was the kind of thing that happened to people who weren’t constantly looking over their shoulders, to people who weren’t trained to anticipate threats before they struck. You weren’t reckless. You weren’t careless. You didn’t lose control.

“You abandoned the way,” he continued softly, watching you closely. “They said you must’ve lost control, maybe got distracted…or something. Your car went off the road and crashed into a ditch.” His voice faltered, just slightly, as if saying the words out loud made them more real. It was as if almost for a moment, a trace of guilt had escaped in his tone.

A cold chill ran through you, a sense of vertigo pulling at your chest. You stared at him, eyes wide, trying to process, trying to understand. But your mind remained blank, an empty canvas where everything should have been. There were no fragments of memories of the accident. No flashes of panic or the sudden jolt of the car swerving out of control. No sensation of the crash itself, just a void, a sharp nothingness.

“I don’t remember,” you whispered, the words slipping out as you blinked, as though trying to will the memories back into place.

“That’s normal,” he said, his voice soothing, though there was an unmistakable trace of worry beneath it. “Memory loss can happen after a concussion. It might come back soon.”

A concussion. The dull ache in your skull suddenly made sense. You lifted your free hand instinctively, but he was quicker, catching your wrist before your fingers could brush against what you now realized was a bandage wrapped around your head.

“You hit your head pretty hard,” he said, his thumb absently tracing over your skin, as if grounding himself as much as grounding you. “But the doctors said you’re going to be okay. You just…need time.”

Time.

It should have been comforting. But all you could think about was the emptiness of your memory, the lost hours, the lost moment when everything must have gone wrong, and the exact reasons why. You didn't usually drive alone, you didn't like the silence of the car, and you took your fiancé with you wherever you went. However, he seemed unharmed and just tired. You felt very confused, pressured, and lost as you remembered the ring that was missing from your finger.

You swallowed hard, trying to push past the dizziness that seemed to rise with every thought, trying to steady your racing heart. Your voice came out steadier this time, though there was still a tremor in it. “Where’s my ring?”

Spencer blinked at you, clearly taken off guard by the question. “What ring?” he asked, his brows furrowing, confusion flickering in his eyes.

“The most important ring in the world, love,” you whispered. “My engagement ring.”

The silence that followed seemed eternal, the tension palpable, thick in the air between the two of you. Spencer's eyes widened when he realized what you were speaking, and his breath caught. He blinked, as if trying to understand why the absence of the ring you'd taken off yourself had bothered you so much, why you'd called him “love” after two months of not doing so, why his touch suddenly didn't seem to bother you. Something wasn’t right, and it was all too clear to him now. Something was wrong with you.

The realization hit him like a bolt, but before he could say anything, you broke the moment, the tension too much to bear. “This sucks,” you muttered, your voice quieter now but tinged with frustration. “My head hurts.”

The sudden shift in your tone startled him, pulling him back to the present. His concern resurfaced, his gaze softening as he quickly leaned closer, his hand still holding yours. “How much? On a scale of one to ten?” he asked, his voice anxious, the worry evident in his eyes.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the pressure in your skull making everything feel worse, as if you could feel your brain pulsing in rhythm with the pain. Your fingers tightened around his hand. “Eleven,” you muttered, trying to force the words out with a breathless chuckle. The ridiculousness of it wasn’t lost on you, but you didn’t care. The truth was that it hurt, and you needed something else. Anything to make the ache go away.

His expression darkened with concern, and you saw his muscles tense as though he were already preparing to leave and find a nurse, a doctor, anyone who could help you. But before he could move, you caught his hand in yours, your fingers curling around his. “No,” you said softly, shaking your head. “Don’t call a doctor.”

He hesitated for a moment, still unsure of what to do, but his eyes never left you, his worry so palpable that you could practically feel it like a weight pressing down on both of you. “Then what do you need?” he asked gently, his voice soft, almost pleading. His thumb brushed lightly across your knuckles as if trying to comfort you, as if trying to bring you back to something you could hold onto.

You didn’t answer him right away. Instead, you let out a shaky breath, still feeling the tension in your body, the unease that gripped you. Your fingers slid to the side of his face, the touch so light it almost felt like a dream, and you tilted your head to meet his gaze.

“Give me love,” you whispered, the words escaping your lips with a sudden tenderness, an unexpected vulnerability. You needed him. Not just in the way your body craved the relief of his touch, but in the deeper, more desperate way that your soul was aching for connection, for his warmth.

Spencer blinked, his breath catching as he looked at you, clearly surprised by your request. He took a small, confused step back, his brows furrowing in bewilderment. “What?”

“Kiss me, fool,” you murmured, your voice lower now, almost teasing, trying to make light of the moment even though everything inside you felt like it was unraveling. You could see the hesitation in his eyes, the way he was torn between the confusion that had settled in his mind and the longing in his chest.

The way you’d spoken to him, the way you’d touched him, it was all too much. Yet too little, too fragile, and too desperate at once.

“You…you want me to kiss you?” His voice was quiet, still unsure. But you could see the faintest shimmer of hope in his eyes, a flicker of something that made him believe, just for a second, that maybe things weren’t as broken as they seemed. That maybe you were still you, still his, still something real, even if everything else had changed.

“Don’t tell me my face looked that bad after the accident,” you teased, your voice weak but laced with a dry humor you hoped might ease the tension hanging between you both.

“No…you’re perfect, pretty as always.”

You tilted your head slightly, still feeling the remnants of confusion and loneliness swirling in the space between you both. “You said that because you love me,” you murmured, a small smile playing at the corner of your lips, but it was tinged with a vulnerability you could no longer hide. “Now I want a mirror.”

“A mirror?” He repeated, his voice soft but curious, unsure of where this was leading. He glanced around the room as if expecting a mirror to appear out of nowhere, but the expression on your face made it clear that wasn’t the answer you were seeking. His eyes turned back to you, searching for more understanding.

“Or a kiss,” you added quietly, the weight of the words making your chest tighten. “Hug, touch? I need physical affection.”

Spencer’s breath caught again. His fingers twitched slightly as if wanting to reach out, but still, something held him back. Something about the rawness of your request, the way you were looking at him with that strange mixture of vulnerability and need, made him pause. The last few months, the distance, the silence, the space, it all came rushing back, threatening to collapse in on him, on both of you. He didn’t know how to bridge the gap, but here you were, asking for something he hadn’t dared hope for, something real, something close.

You needed him.

His eyes softened, and for a brief, fleeting moment, the world outside of the hospital room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you. His heart ached with the weight of everything unsaid, everything that had been left unspoken for too long. “You…you need physical affection?” he whispered, almost as if testing the words on his own tongue, seeing how they felt.

Reid swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he processed your words. His mind was spinning, struggling to reconcile the warmth in your voice, the softness in your gaze, with the cold, distant reality he had been living in for the past two months. The reality where your hands no longer reached for his, where your voice had lost that teasing lilt whenever you spoke to him, where you had looked at him with something closer to exhaustion than love. But now, now, you were here, in front of him, looking at him like this, touching him like this, speaking to him like this. And he didn’t know what to do with it.

His fingers twitched against yours, but he didn’t pull away. He couldn’t. Not when you were looking at him with that quiet plea in your eyes, not when your touch was so familiar, achingly so.

“You need physical affection?” He repeated it, almost as if saying it aloud would help him believe it. “From me?”

A small frown creased your forehead, as if the question itself was absurd. “Of course, from you,” you murmured, your thumb tracing the back of his hand in a slow, lingering movement. “Who else would I want it from, if not my future husband?”

Spencer’s mouth opened as if to speak, then faltered, the words caught somewhere in the space between his thoughts and reality. For a brief moment, everything clicked. It all made sense now.

You didn’t remember more than the accident.

You didn’t remember the nights you had spent on opposite ends of the apartment, the silences that stretched longer than either of you could fill. You didn’t remember the fights that had grown from whispered frustrations into full-blown arguments, the sharp words that had cut deeper than either of you had intended. You didn’t remember the moment you had taken off your engagement ring, the way you had placed it on the counter with trembling fingers, saying, I don’t know if this is working anymore, Spence. You didn’t remember that you had been on the verge of leaving him.

And yet now, here you were, lying in a hospital bed, looking up at him with those same eyes that once held every piece of his heart, asking for him. Asking for his love, his touch, his kiss, as if none of it had ever been broken. As if nothing had changed.

His chest ached.

He should tell you. He should tell you the truth. He should remind you of the distance that had grown between you, the hurt that had seeped into every corner of what you once were. He should remind you that you had been slipping through his fingers for two months now, that this moment, this closeness, was something neither of you had shared in what felt like forever.

But God, how could he? How could he break this? How could he take away the way you were looking at him, touching him, and loving him when it was the only thing he had wanted for so long?

You smiled softly, a small, teasing glint in your eyes, the same expression he had missed more than he could admit. “I don’t need another doctor,” you said, your voice light but filled with need. “I just need my doctor Reid. I need you now.”

His breath caught.

God, how many nights had he stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, wishing to hear those words again? How many times had he replayed every conversation, every argument, trying to pinpoint the exact moment everything had started slipping through his fingers? How many times had he wished you’d look at him like this again, like he was your home?

“Do you…” He hesitated, then swallowed. “Do you remember the last thing we talked about? Before the accident?”

You blinked at him, momentarily thrown by the question. “No, I—” You paused, thinking. Then, after a moment, you laughed, rolling your eyes. “Probably something dumb, like what we should have for dinner.”

You didn’t remember. You didn’t remember the raw, biting argument that had escalated, the way words that were meant to heal had instead poisoned the air between you. The cutting words you had both thrown at each other, the ones that lingered long after you had left the apartment, your heart pounding with regret and pain. You didn’t remember that you had almost walked away for good.

But now? Right now, you were looking at him like he was still your safe place. Like he was still yours.

“I…” He inhaled sharply, trying to steady himself, the words lodged in his throat like shards of glass. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, his voice breaking with the weight of his own uncertainty.

“You’re not hurting me.” You let out a small, breathy chuckle, squeezing his hand. “The only thing hurting me right now is this damn headache.”

Spencer exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. This was dangerous. This was reckless. He knew that. But when he opened his eyes again and saw you, saw the way you were still waiting, still trusting, still his, something in him cracked.

Slowly, hesitantly, his free hand lifted, fingertips grazing the side of your face. You leaned into his touch instantly, and he felt his heart stutter, his breath catching in his throat.

God.

How could he let go of this?

His grip on your face tightened slightly, barely noticeable, but you still felt it. Your expression softened, your thumb grazing over his knuckles, grounding him. “Spence?”

He inhaled sharply, trying to push back the lump in his throat. He should tell you. He needed to tell you. But the words wouldn’t come. Because right now, in this moment, you were still his. You were looking at him like he was your everything. Like you wanted him.

And selfishly, pathetically, he wanted to hold onto that. Just for a little longer.

So instead of answering your question, instead of pulling away like he probably should have, he did the one thing he knew he shouldn’t do.

He gave in.

He leaned forward, his movements slow, hesitant, his fingers tightening around yours. His free hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek, as if memorizing the warmth of your skin. And when your lips parted slightly, your breath mixing with his, he closed the space between you and kissed you.

Soft. Tentative.

A kiss that held every unsaid word, every unshed tear, every moment he thought he had lost you for good. It wasn’t hurried or desperate. It was slow, tentative, almost like he was afraid you would pull away, that you would remember everything you had wanted to forget. But you didn’t. You melted into him, sighing against his lips, your fingers curling around the fabric of his sleeve, holding him close.

For the first time in months, Spencer Reid didn’t feel like he was losing you. For the first time in months, he allowed himself to believe, just for a fleeting moment, that maybe he hadn’t lost you at all.

[megalony]

Undo What's Done

This is a new Emperor Geta imagine I had an idea for, I hope you will all like it.

Feedback is always appreciated.

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Main Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) and Geta have always known they were betrothed to each other, and their love bound them too. When (Y/n) becomes pregnant before marriage, Geta asks his father to arrange their marriage sooner. But the Emperor is sadistic and puts (Y/n) and her unborn child in jeopardy.

(Set before the twins become Emperors)

I am hoping to make this into a little series.

Enjoy.

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

"My lady."

A tender smile flushed (Y/n)'s features when Geta brought her hand to his lips. The kiss he placed there was soft and tender, almost like the brush of a petal against her skin, so light that (Y/n) almost thought she'd imagined the touch.

She liked the way his eyes seemed to darken when they dragged up and down her frame like he was drinking in every inch of her. He always seemed to look at her in the same way. Whenever they were permitted to be in each other's company like this, Geta always had that sense of longing in his eyes, he always seemed to have an underlying desire hidden away in those eyes that only came out when he was in (Y/n)'s company.

He didn't seem to want to release her hand. His thumb stroked over the back of her fingers and his head inclined to one side as he straightened up in front of her.

Geta allowed his eyes to divert towards the maid stood a good few feet away from them on the path. It wasn't the same maid who usually accompanied them when they were permitted to meet.

Usually (Y/n) had a stout, stern governess who hovered so close she became a shadow, an omen looming over (Y/n), warding off anyone who dared look at her. She always glared at Geta as if he was somehow improper or unruly or as if she didn't know who he was. He didn't like her. He could barely talk to (Y/n) when the governess was lingering so close by.

This new maid seemed to understand the basic rules of ettiquette. She didn't hover too close to intrude on their conversation, she didn't want to walk beside them as if she were one of them or had their status. She was lingering in the background, walking behind them to give the sense of propriety that was required, but nothing more.

"Shall we?"

(Y/n) nodded, trying to bite back her eagerness as she looped her hand through Geta's elbow and let him lead the way.

She didn't have to turn her head to know her maid was following dutifully behind them, this time at a distance rather than what her usual governess would do.

It would be improper if (Y/n) and Geta were allowed to meet alone without a chaperone. Despite Caracalla being here for this visit and now walking alongside his twin, he wasn't classed as a chaperone because he was their age, and he was a boy. (Y/n) was the daughter of a Senate, she couldn't be alone with any boy or man, no matter who they were, she had to be escorted and chaperoned to ensure nothing untoward happened.

"How have you both been?" (Y/n) jangled the bracelet on her wrist and moved her hand to rest on Geta's forearm.

Her eyes danced between him and his brother stood on his other side, watching the twins express matching smiles and share a look before they glanced back to her. It wasn't often that (Y/n) got to be in Caracalla's presence too, unless they were all at a ceremony or with all the Senates.

When (Y/n) and Geta met, they only had a chaperone. It was nice to be around both Princes for a change.

"We've been training."

"You've been training, I don't find it very enticing." Caracalla corrected while his head lolled from left to right and he began tenderly plucking the petals from the flower in his hand.

He didn't like training, it was too controlling and strict. When he held a sword, he liked to wield it however he chose and plan an attack in his own way rather than following some old crone's orders. And he didn't like it when Geta was instantly much better at something than him. Neither of them had paid much attention to their studies unless it was of countries and war, and they were well read, but they didn't spend lots of time reading.

Their interests lay outside of books and sword training in the great hall.

"And you?"

"Mother has me brushing up on my Latin." (Y/n) didn't mind her studies, and she loved reading, one of the things that differed between her and Geta.

She leaned her head on Geta's shoulder as they continued walking and a flowing conversation enraptured around the three of them. These were the moments (Y/n) longed for. In between studies and her parents hosting dinners and parties, there wasn't a lot that (Y/n) found her own sense of pleasure in and she didn't have a lot to look forward to.

But these meetings with Geta, the time she got to spend with him, whether that be over lunch or going for walks or simply wandering the palace when she was permitted to visit, these were what (Y/n) longed for. These were what got her through her studies and kept her going each day.

They were both waiting for the day they would be married.

It wasn't often that anyone betrothed to another found a genuine likeness and love for the person they were joined to.

(Y/n) and Geta had been betrothed since they were children. At first, it hadn't been decided which Prince (Y/n) would be joined with. Not until the twins were nine and it was decided that she would be suited with Geta.

Since that age, they had seen each other at dinners, they went out on horse rides together and met when (Y/n) was brought along to the palace, since her father was a Senate.

They had found themselves falling for each other and (Y/n) couldn't have been more relieved that the person she was to spend her life with was someone she loved. There was nothing worse in her mind than marrying a man she didn't love. It posed the risk of a dull or sorrowful life and (Y/n) absolutely dreaded the thought of being in a loveless marriage and finding love with another who she would never be fated to be with.

She knew she was lucky, far luckier than most of the people in Rome and those who were in her position. Women were married to the best suitor and simply told to go along with it. She knew her own parents weren't in love, they had grown accustomed together and got along, but it wasn't love. It wasn't what (Y/n) and Geta had and they weren't even married yet.

"This way."

(Y/n) glanced her head to look behind her when Geta suddenly tugged on her wrist and pulled her a few feet back until they were safely hidden behind a hedge.

Somewhere along the way, Caracalla became distracted and was chittering away to himself as he admired some of the statues in the garden. And (Y/n) noticed her maid had taken a seat on the marble bench along the path. She too seemed to be lost in her mind as she began to read the book she had brought along with her.

Clearly the maid hadn't been briefed on keeping (Y/n) within her sights at all times. But she must know that nothing untoward would happen, or she presumed nothing would if she was within close range. She didn't want to babysit (Y/n) when she wasn't a little girl needing protection and guidance. And the maid was far too meek to dare correct either of the Princes if she thought they were doing something wrong or childlike.

When Geta took a few more steps back, (Y/n) felt her heart jumping into her throat as he led her towards the clearing near the pond. They were well and truly out of sight now. They were hidden from both her maid and his twin, both of whom hadn't seemed to notice or care about their absence.

For the first time, possibly since they had known one another, they were truly alone. Truly allowed to talk and be close and smile and share words that no one else was permitted to hear.

(Y/n) could feel her heart beating out of her chest when Geta sank down to sit on the grass and she found herself doing the same. Sitting so close to him made her stomach flip. Being this close, with their thighs touching and their arms meshed together and Geta's hand now entwined with hers with no one to glare or observe, it was bliss.

"I heard father talking to the Senates, I think he wants the wedding to proceed soon."

Geta had tried not to get his hopes up when he heard his father talking in a meeting, but he knew what had been said. He knew his father's health was starting to fail, and he wanted to see at least one of his son's get married and secured so when they took the throne, there would be no quarrell about their succession. It would make Geta's stance and power higher if he was married, especially to the Senate's daughter.

His heart had jumped into his throat when he heard his father talking about the wedding.

He wondered if his father would try and find a bride for Caracalla too, but if one of the twins had a bride then there would be no rush to find one for Caracalla. He seemed happier being solitude with the women their father brought to the palace for them.

"I'm glad to hear it." (Y/n) couldn't bite back the smile that spread across her lips at hearing such news. She knew her mother was eager for the betrothal, she had been so happy when (Y/n)'s father came home and announced their daughter would be a future Empress. There was no higher honour (Y/n) could have or that she could bestow upon her family and rise them to the top of Rome like this.

But it wasn't about status or security for (Y/n). If she were worried about marriage then that would be a comfort, but she was simply eager to be with Geta. Be with the person her heart wanted, the person who loved her back.

The conversation flowed easily between them and (Y/n) found herself relishing in the sound of Geta's laugh. It wasn't often that she heard him laugh, and to be the only person within earshot to hear such a melodic noise made (Y/n)'s smile brighten.

She knew what a ruthless man the Emperor could be. She knew he had often beat the twins into submission, whether to get them to listen or to behave or simply because he was in a drunken rage. She knew it made their lives hard, always walking on eggshells and wanting to rebel against their father but not being able to.

So to see Geta so relaxed and happy and carefree like this, it was a lovely sight.

(Y/n) cast her head over her shoulder to see whether the maid or Caracalla were within sight yet. Neither of them were. As much as (Y/n) loved being alone with Geta, she felt like they were on borrowed time. She didn't know whether the maid would care or if she would brush this off and think it was okay. Her governess would of thrown a fit and raged at (Y/n) for being promiscous; she probably would have said (Y/n) was a tart for being alone with a man, especially the one she was engaged to.

But all the worries and panic surging through her veins fizzled out the moment a soft hand pressed beneath her chin and tilted her head to the left.

(Y/n)'s smile morphed into something resembling shock when Geta's lips planted upon hers.

She wanted to push him away. She wanted to scold him and tell him that acting like this wasn't proper, that they were pushing boundaries by holding hands every time they met and a kiss was far too promiscous. But the touch was invigorating.

The softness of his lips and the eagerness behind his touch and the feeling of his hand cupping her cheek made (Y/n) want to melt on the spot.

It didn't matter that their teeth clashed and (Y/n) was sure that she had a cut to her upper lip when both of them leaned in and pressed a bit too eagerly into the kiss. All that mattered was savouring this feeling and dragging it out into something more, into a moment that couldn't be ruined by anything.

Stars twinkled in front of (Y/n)'s eyes when they finally parted for air and she let her temple rest against Geta's. She could see those deep brown eyes swirling like batter mix and his pupils expanded until they were almost eclipsing what was left of his iris's.

Her hands fell to his shoulders, brushing her fingers across the dip at his collarbone and the base of his neck as their noses pressed together and she watched a breathless smile take over Geta's expression.

"That's better," Geta's words were spoken against (Y/n)'s plump lips and she seemed to inhale each word while his eyes searched hers.

He knew it was a risk to kiss her when it was against social cues and he didn't want (Y/n) to think he presumed her to be anything like the women who frequented the palace. But she was the one he wanted, she was the one he thought about in the dead of night. And what harm could there be in kissing her when their wedding seemed to be imminent?

"You are very forward, you know. And we have no chaperone." (Y/n) tried to look behind her both to prove her point and to ensure that neither her maid or his twin had seen them. But she couldn't move her head far with Geta's hand cupping the side of her face.

"I can't help it, I seized my chance. I pray the wedding is soon, then there won't be any need for a chaperone." The displeasure was clear in Geta's eyes. He didn't like having to be watched and assessed like they were still little children or absconding fools.

If he were Emperor already then he would have set the plans in motion for their wedding by now. But when they were married, none of this propriety would be necessary and no one would be able to judge their relationship and their eagerness to be around one another.

And when Geta and his brother were finally on the throne, out of the shadows cast by their brute of a father, things would indeed be much better. Geta wanted to have (Y/n) close, to be wed and have her by his side at all times. But that meant having her at the palace, where she would be around his father. He didn't want his father to take out his anger on her or be crude to her.

Up to now, the Emperor had been nothing but curteous, he could do nothing else when being improper would risk the betrothal if he displeased (Y/n) or her father. But once they were married, Geta would keep (Y/n) as far out of the way of his father as possible. He and Caracalla only spent time in their father's company when he wanted to talk matters of state or teach them something.

His drunken rages weren't often taken out on the twins anymore, but Geta still didn't want (Y/n) around him.

(Y/n)'s hands moved from Geta's shoulders to cradle either side of his neck and her thumbs began to trace the edges of his jaw as she took a deep breath and closed the gap between them.

She knew she shouldn't. (Y/n) knew kissing Geta was going against the rules that had been instilled in both of them since they were little. She knew doing this now would lead to more, that this would push them to catch any opportune moment together in the future. (Y/n) knew that this broke the boundaries and every other meeting they had, they would want to do this and more, and it wasn't a good habit to allow.

But she couldn't help herself. Not when Geta was all she could think about, all she wanted, and he was right here with no one to stop them or tell them it was wrong.

And when she heard Geta mumbling "So beautiful," against her lips, it made her mind go fuzzy and sent her heart into a frenzy.

This is what it would be like when they were married. No one would watch them or chaperone them when they were bound together. They would be free to kiss and link arms and take walks or be left alone in a room together and no one would call them improper or look down on them or think they were being risqué.

And maybe in a few short months, that would be their reality. Their wedding was set in stone, and even though a date hadn't been picked yet, clearly the Emperor was thinking about deciding such a date. Their parents had been waiting for the right time, as it was up to them when the wedding would proceed. Hopefully that time would be soon.

"We- we should- we should get going." (Y/n) could barely pant each word against Geta's lips when he leaned in further and seemed to swallow her words without taking them in.

Surely her maid would notice if they were gone too long? And they weren't allocated much time to spend together today, they would have to be back inside the palace soon for (Y/n) to leave with her parents. As much as they both wanted to stay here, it wasn't practical; they didn't have long.

"Soon."

"Geta-"

"Stay here with me a while longer, please?"

There was very little willpower within (Y/n) to argue and with Geta's chest leaning into hers until he was almost laying her down on the grass, she couldn't find it in herself to disagree. Not when his touch was heavenly and there was no one ruining the moment or telling them to stop like normal. Fate was giving them a chance to be together, to be in their own company. This was too good of a moment to ruin just yet.

Geta prayed his father would set a date or it was going to physically tear him apart not to be this close to (Y/n) every day. Princes had been married much younger than Geta was now. The renounced princess Lucilla had been wed and bore her child at fourteen.

They were meant to be together, both in fate and in writing, their futures were entwined.

And he didn't want this moment to end; what could go wrong?

***

Uncertainty and sheer unbridled panic dwelled within Geta's gut as he entered the study he rarely passed these days.

His sweating palms clenched into fists to try and compose himself and stop himself from turning around or melting into a concerned puddle on the marbled floor. It wasn't like him to panic. Not anymore. Not since he had been little.

Panic didn't come into things when Geta had spent the last decade shielding himself and his twin from their father's wrath. Panic didn't seem relevant after the beatings and the arguments and all the shouting he had endured during his childhood. Even the death of their mother hadn't made him panic like it should have as she would no longer be there to shield the twins from their father's drunken tyrany.

But in this moment, Geta felt more panic than he had ever felt before and he knew it was because he had no way of knowing how his father would react and what he would say. Or do.

If his father had done what he should have done in the first place then Geta wouldn't be feeling this overwhelming sense of anxiety. If things had gone smoothly and according to plan then this wouldn't be a problem.

He tried to hold his head high and straighten out his shoulders when he walked into the study and closed the door behind him. At least there were no guards in here, he could have a private talk with his father without any staff listening in or watching eagerly like they normally did.

"What do you want?"

There was a sense of dismissal in the Emperor's voice as if Geta was coming to him to ask for a sweet or to have his father's attention like he was a child or a peasant off the street. He and Caracalla had grown up never wanting their father's approval or attention and Geta certainly wouldn't start now. This was a business talk, nothing more, nothing less.

Geta did his best to steel himself and his expression, even though his father hadn't bothered to turn around to face him. He knew it had to be one of his sons, no one else walked in unannounced or got away with walking in and staying silent and so presuming.

"To talk to you, about when you plan to set a date for when I marry Lady (Y/n)." It was so hard to get his words out in the right order without being too presumptuous or coming across as rude. Geta knew better than most that if his father so much as thought he was being rude then he would become enraged and very uncooperative.

His father finally turned around to face him and Geta wasn't sure what to make of the amused expression on the Emperor's face. He had one hand leant on his desk so he was slouched back at an angle and one brow was arched up as he looked over at his son.

"Why the sudden rush, boy?" That tone of voice made it hard for Geta not to show his distain.

It irked him to no end that their father rarely used the twins names. He used cast off names or jibes to refer to them and Geta had never been sure why. They were the boys the Emperor had longed for, twin boys to rule the Empire he was building, and yet he never referred to them with an ounce of kindness in his voice or a smile on their face.

Their mother had been the one to use their names but even then it was hard to remember a time when she had been affectionate. She never did anything when their father used to raise a hand to them, so it hadn't been hard on either Geta or Caracalla when their mother died.

"We want to be married." Being nocholant wasn't doing Geta any favours, he could see it in the way his father's shoulders slouched and how he huffed.

Usually if the twins acted as if something wasn't a bother to them or they weren't interested, their father didn't question it. They had learnt to hide from him what they wanted and desired or he taunted them and tried to take it from them like life was a game and he wanted to win. At all costs.

"And you will, when the time is right." That seemed to be an end to the conversation as the Emperor looked down at the pages he had scattered about on his desk.

"The time is now."

Geta began to spin the golden ring around his index finger in a manner to calm himself down and keep his composure.

They had waited long enough. Geta had expected to be married by now, he expected to have a wife and be his own person and gain more respect and freedom that came with marriage. He didn't want to keep waiting around like this as it was torture, and it was taking too long.

"Why? You think being married will put you ahead of your brother for the throne? That's a dirty tactic." The Emperor clicked his tongue, although his smirk was evident.

That was a nasty way of gaining what he wanted, but the Emperor would admit he respected his son more if that was his game. If he thought that being the twin who was married or who had children would put him higher in line for the throne, then that was one way to go. The people of Rome would be more inclined to have Geta on the throne if he brought stability and heirs.

It had never formally been discussed which son would take the throne. On technicality, Geta was elder as he was born first, but to the rest of Rome, the Emperors shared the same birthday so they shared the same birth right.

It wasn't often that twins thrived, usually one thrived and the other, a weakling, would perish. Having them both survive into adulthood and gain strength and minds of their own was a surprise to the Emperor and to Rome and it meant choosing one to be a successor.

"We would rule equally, my marriage has nothing to do with that-"

Frustration dwelled within Geta as he tilted his head down and closed his eyes, trying his best to control his emotions that were going to get the better of him at any moment.

Why could his father, for once, not just agree with him and do the right thing? Couldn't he set a date- preferably soon and let this be an end to the matter. He had pledged Geta to marry (Y/n) and so far he had done nothing to show that he meant this intention and was going to hold up on the agreement. Geta was starting to lose faith and it would do his father no good to lose the faith of (Y/n)'s father and the rest of the Senates if he didn't follow through with this marriage sooner or later.

"Then why so eager all of a sudden?"

"(Y/n) is with child. If we're not married, the child won't be legitimate."

Something tore at Geta's heart when he watched his father's smirk turn into a sinister grin.

He knew telling the truth wouldn't incline his father to agree, but he prayed his father might just go along with this. It was a predicament after all and if his father didn't agree, he would cause an uproar.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

But their families had let them meet more often now that their studies were over and Geta and Caracalla were focusing more on how to rule than their tutoring. And those small moments they stole together turned into afternoons when (Y/n)'s maid and even Geta's guards simply daudled and twiddled their thumbs or sat waiting while they went into the gardens or the temple in the palace grounds.

Those moments had led to something more and caution had been lost. Now they were stuck.

On their last meeting (Y/n) had wept as she told Geta she knew she was pregnant. She couldn't confide in her mother, her maids would tell both her parents and her father would become outraged if he knew. The only silver lining was they were already betrothed. (Y/n) was spared the insult of being called a stupid girl when she had lain with the man she was engaged to.

And if they got married now, then there would be no outrage or suspicion or gossip. They would be married and announce the pregnancy and no problems would arise. (Y/n) could have the baby and Geta would have an heir. But he couldn't abide by the thought of his child being deemed illegitimate simply because his father delayed on the wedding.

That couldn't happen.

A deep sigh left the Emperor's lips as he turned to fully face his son. One leg crossed over the other and he leant his hips back against the desk while his arms crossed over his chest. He seemed to delight in the way Geta bristled and held himself taller with his pointed chin jutting out and his lips curled into a snarl as if he was rearing for battle.

"You surprise me. Were there not enough whores to satisfy you?" One hand waved at his side to refer to the many women who resided in the palace on the sole basis of being ready to tend to both Prince's every need.

Geta refused to answer such a question. He could feel the fury rising within him at the indignation that his father was implying (Y/n) was one of those women too. She wasn't. She wasn't like the whores and concubines the Emperor brought to the palace. (Y/n) wasn't like that and Geta hated how his father could smile and so easily presume and speak such a thing.

"You do realise that she should be pure if you are to be wed. A future Empress should be above reproach and pure, which now, she isn't. Thanks to you… presumably." The Emperor shrugged his shoulders and slowly shook his head as if he were somehow disappointed.

But Geta couldn't understand his words or his logic. How could his father think or imply she wasn't pure when the whole point of that was to give herself to Geta, which she had done. The only difference was it had happened before marriage, not after.

(Y/n) was above all reproach, she was reagal and pure and without any fault or doubt about her. She was perfect in every way and everyone who knew or even looked at her could see that. No one would know what had happened if they were married now, as soon as possible.

"She is to be married to me, what does it matter? She was pure and if we are married no one will know."

"This isn't how a lady of her status should act, let alone someone marrying a future Emperor. I might have to rethink this betrothal."

A deep rumbling could be heard within Geta's chest as his eyes went wide with fury that raged a burning fire like a volcano within him. That wasn't allowed. How could he say such a thing? How could he imply that?

His hands clenched into tight fists at his sides until his milky white skin almost looked grey and any trace of colour went straight to his face that was turning a deep shade of blood red. His knuckles threatened to pop out of place and his nails began to create indents into his palms as he shook in a volatile manner.

Geta knew without a doubt that if this was anyone else, they wouldn't act this way. Any other Emperor would sigh, they would say Geta had let himself down and should have known better, but they would agree. They would agree this was the right thing and arrange the wedding.

Why was it so bad when they would have been married by now if the Emperor had already made an effort to start on the arrangements. It would all have been over and done with by now, but the Emperor had busied himself with other matters and Geta had succumbed to (Y/n)'s grace and beauty. It was his fault, he would take all the blame for this but he wanted to rectify this, if only his father would agree and take heed.

"Don't do this!" Geta's voice boomed throughout the study and the threat weighed heavy until his father's amusement faded.

"Calm down boy, she's just a-"

"I'll say I forced her if you don't allow this marriage to go ahead. You'll ruin everything, our lives, her reputation. My child. You can't- I won't let you do this!"

If it came to it, Geta would make it well known that he had done wrong. He would let it be known that he forced himself on (Y/n) if his father tried to make her look to be anything less than a lady of honour. Geta would take all the blame and he would make sure everyone knew that his father wasn't allowing the marriage.

He couldn't let his father do this. There would be no repercussions for Geta. This thing happened all the time, the Emperor himself had been with countless women and had illegitimate children in Rome who he didn't know nor care for.

But this was (Y/n). A lady of high honour and reputation, the daughter of a Senate who was betrothed to one of the Princes. This would be a great shock if people found out and if the engagement was broken, (Y/n)'s life would be ruined. Her father would cast her aside, she could bring no higher honour than marrying a Prince and if that didn't happen because she and Geta got ahead of themselves then her father would shun her.

She would be cast aside with a child to support and no one of any status would want to marry her.

Her life would be over. Geta couldn't allow that all because he let himself get carried away and urged her to do the same.

He couldn't let that happen because his father was a vindictive soul who didn't deserve to be on the throne. If he had his way the Gods would strike his father down on that very spot right this minute, then he and Caracalla would rule and everything would be set right again.

"Remind me stulte, who is the Emperor? Speak out of line again and you know what will happen." The way the Emperor's voice deepened and his hand clenched into a fist made Geta inwardly shudder.

Clenched fists were a sign of an impending slap or punch and although Geta had always tried to protect Caracalla, he had never fought back against his father. A child could not win a fight against a man.

Geta's lips curled into a deep snarl and he tried to hold his father's gaze, despite the reeling emotions within him. Geta hadn't paid much attention to his schooling, but he had remembered a little of the Latin which he had learnt, so he knew his father had referred to him as an idiot. It was a new phrase Geta wasn't used to being called, but he was used to far more spiteful and degrading terms than that.

He just wanted to do the right thing. He wanted to be married to the woman he loved, the one he was bound to, and secure her and their child. Was that such a bad thing?

But Geta could see in his father's wavering expression that he was done with this conversation. He wasn't going to talk about it any further, at least not today. But each passing day that ticked by made things worse for Geta and so much worse for (Y/n).

He watched with growing distain and hatred in his eyes as his father waved a hand to dismiss him and turned to face his desk again while he spoke over his shoulder. "I'll think on it and decide what to do for the best. Leave this with me, boy."

That didn't bode well for Geta, he could feel it in his bones.

***

"Geta… I'm afraid."

(Y/n) wrung her hands out in front of her and sank her teeth down into her lower lip to try and control the storm raging within her. It was turning her stomach in loops and knots that couldn't be undone and her chest was alive with nerves like thousands of birds trapped within her ribcage, fighting to break free.

This wasn't going to work, she could just feel it. No matter how much they wished for this to happen and work out, something told (Y/n) that it wasn't going to.

She couldn't stop from tapping her feet against the stone floor and the rings on her fingers were clashing together and straining as her numb fingers felt like they were going to snap from how much she was fiddling with them.

"This will work. They can't refuse, all will be well. Do you trust me?" Geta reached out to tangle his hand with (Y/n)'s, stopping her from panicking so much when he entwined their fingers together.

He squeezed her hand tight and began smoothing his thumb over the back of her hand.

And when he looked down at her, he found the smallest etching of a smile on her face as she nodded to his question. "Yes."

Of course she trusted him. (Y/n) would admit that she had been utterly panicked and overwrought when she realised she was pregnant. A dreaded part of her thought that this wouldn't be glad news for Geta, but he had proved wrong. (Y/n) trusted him enough to tell him and he assured her he would do everything within his power to ensure their wedding took place.

It was the Emperor who was disagreeing with them. He seemed to find it entertaining. He hadn't mentioned anything to (Y/n)'s father, praise the Gods, but he was simply ignoring and blanking Geta on every occasion when Geta brought up the marriage.

'I haven't decided yet.'

'This is something that requires careful consideration.'

Those were the main variations Geta seemed to be getting from his father and he had given up. He wouldn't squirm and wriggle under his father's metaphorical foot any longer. He was going to go ahead with this marriage whether his father made any arrangements or agreed or not.

When (Y/n) turned and cast a glance over her shoulder, her worried eyes locked on her mother.

She was fiddling with the belt around her waist, pinning her dress in place against her figure. It wasn't often that (Y/n) ever saw her mother look nervous. Unhappy, angry, incontent, certainly, but nervous and furious like she currently was, this was something different.

(Y/n) didn't have a choice. She had to tell her mother because if they were doing this, then they needed witnesses and (Y/n) knew as much as her mother would be forever disappointed in her, she would at least try to help and rectify the situation. Not like her father. He would cast (Y/n) out the moment he heard the news.

"Let's proceed, shall we?" The brisk voice of Gaina's voice made (Y/n) shiver despite how she nodded along to her mother's words.

(Y/n) let Geta lead her into the chapel, with her mother and Caracalla following close behind.

They were going to get married.

There was no other way. If the Emperor wouldn't arrange the proper ceremony as he promised and should dictate, then Geta had to resort to desperate measures. He found a priest willing to perform the ceremony simply because he was afraid of the wrath Geta promised to impose on him. Geta might not be Emperor yet, but he was a Prince, he had the next highest authority and he could make this man's life not worth living.

And everyone in Rome knew that this marriage was planned and preconstrude, it was known to everyone. So this wasn't really going against the Emperor's rule or wishes when he himself had declared this betrothal.

"This is only what was planned for us, we aren't doing anything wrong. Once my father sees that, he will have to accept it. You will be my wife, and no one will dispute that. I promise."

Each word was murmured against the side of (Y/n)'s temple and she could feel the words soaking into her skin. His promise had an enchanting effect, making (Y/n) feel like a spell was being cast over her with a sense of magic flowing through her veins.

(Y/n) squeezed his hand and looped her free hand around his bicep, gluing herself into his side as if to ensure that they were forever bound to one another.

This wasn't how either of them thought or planned for their wedding day to proceed. They didn't think they would be in a small chapel a far ride from the Palace with only two people to be their witnesses. But somehow, this was better.

There were no spectators, no onlookers. No Senates murmuring their approval or bickering, no people fussing and trying to outdo and outlook everyone else. And there was no enraged Emperor breathing down their necks for everyone to be afraid of.

As long as Geta had his twin present, he didn't care about anyone else. And he could see his brother smiling out the corner of his eye. Caracalla's golden tooth glistened in the midday sun and the blue sash draped over one shoulder glistened like a sapphire. He had his hands clasped in front of him, his shoulders straight but his eyes set on his twin and future sister as if silently ensuring they were okay and everything was going to go according to plan. Their plan.

Geta let his eyes focus on the cream dress (Y/n) wore with golden tassels and silk and thread woven to make her look radiant, like a beam of light directly from the sun. There were flowers in her hair, something Geta hadn't seen before and the way she held herself and smiled made Geta feel unworthy.

This shouldn't be happening in this way, with such secrecy and deceit and unbridled panic. But this was what they had to do, and if this worked the way Geta hoped it would, then his father would see reason.

His father would hate the scandal of one of his sons getting married in a private ceremony with no announcements and no members of the council present. He would organise another wedding, a proper ceremony for pretenses and so all of Rome could know and rejoice.

That was what had to happen. There was no other way for the Emperor to save face after this marriage was officiated. Geta would embarrass him if he had to, but this wedding was a necessity.

***

"You've done it now, boy."

Shivers tore throughout (Y/n)'s body and she winced, coiling her arms towards her chest out of instinct. Her head aimed down and her teeth chomped down on the inside of her cheek when the Emperor's harsh words whipped through the air.

They had all been anticipating this, they knew what would happen when he found out, but somehow this was more frightening than anything (Y/n) had imagined. And she had come up with thousands of theories and examples and scenarios.

Her head angled to the left when she felt a careful hand curling around her elbow and her heart clenched when she saw the panic written across Caracalla's face. He wasn't even the one who would get into trouble for this and yet he was fretting. That was the reaction his father got out of the twins for just about anything they did, whether it was good or bad.

(Y/n) sidestepped until she was pressed into Caracalla's side and she let him loop his hand properly through her elbow as he tried to cast his eyes down to his feet. But he couldn't refrain from watching his twin. Geta had always been the more stubborn out of them both, he was always the fighter, the one willing to take any blow their father lashed out and he was always shielding Caracalla from his wrath.

Both of them looked ahead towards Geta, stood in front of his father like two opposing forces going to battle.

For once, Geta didn't quite look the young boy he truly was, nor did he look small in his father's presence. He looked bold, aged, mature. Or maybe that was simply how he came across to (Y/n).

"You wouldn't act or do the right thing, so I did." There was a nocholant tone to Geta's voice and the look in his tired eyes showed that he didn't want to fight or argue. He simply wanted his father to give in for once, and do the right thing.

But the Emperor scoffed as if he had been thoroughly insulted- which he hadn't as Geta could of said much worse to upset him- and he stepped closer until he and his son were almost nose to nose.

"Marrying one of your concubines is the right thing for a Prince, do explain."

"Do not forget who betrothed us for the last ten years, father. This was your doing, the arrangement was signed. What man, nay, Emperor goes back on his word?"

Vile poison spat from Geta's tongue as he pushed his palm against his father's chest to make him take a step back.

This had been prearranged. This had been laid out, carved into stone and told to the world. Everyone knew of this marriage arrangement, it was the Emperor who had been debating going back on his word when he knew the uproar that it would ensue if he did. He was the one telling Geta he wouldn't sanction the marriage and he didn't think (Y/n) was worthy now she had been 'tainted' by the one person she knew she was allowed to be with in the world.

Geta would admit he had done wrong by going behind his father's back, but he had been righting his mistake. Something his father clearly wouldn't do or admit to and that was a bad trait in a leader.

"I wouldn't of needed to if you'd of chosen one of the whores in the palace instead of bedding that one out of wedlock." The way the Emperor pointed a crooked finger towards (Y/n) had her coiling into Caracalla's side and gripping his arm so she didn't shed one tear or one morsel of emotion for him to pick on.

She could see her mother's stature bristling as she stood a few feet away with a look of indignation on her face. Gaina would never speak out of turn to the Emperor, she knew better, but it took a lot of self control to stand there and hear her daughter referred to in such a manner.

In her eyes, the Prince was just as much to blame for his frolicking actions as (Y/n). They had both gotten ahead of themselves and succumbed to lust and desire before marriage. If they waited until their marriage was arranged and done with, then there would be no problem.

But Gaina was relieved about how Geta tried to rectify things. God only knew that all Geta had to do was imply the child wasn't his and (Y/n)'s credibility would have been torn to ribbons. He could have turned his back on her and told his father he didn't want this marriage and that would be the end of (Y/n)'s life. But Geta had done the right thing, something Gaina wouldn't expect from a boy of his background and status.

Geta's hands clenched into fists at his sides while his skin bristled and he pointed his chin up towards his father.

"Enough! We're married now, as is proper and you can't undo what's done. This is what's right and what I want, punish me how you see fit but it is done. I won't see my child be cast out or a bastard because of you."

Panic ensued through everyone in the room and (Y/n) flinched at the tone of Geta's voice and the fury that boiled over in the Emperor's eyes. She couldn't help but move her free hand down to her stomach that her gowns weren't hiding very well anymore.

The Emperor had wasted precious time. Everyone in Rome would know by the haste in their marriage and when the baby had been born that the couple had acted untoward. It wouldn't take much to work out. But if the Emperor had simply agreed in the beginning and arranged a quick marriage, they might just have gotten away with it.

When Geta cast his head to look over his shoulder, he watched his twin slightly nod his head in agreement and the look in Caracalla's eyes showed he agreed and was fully supportive of his brother's words. And he noticed how his wife- such a strange notion to think of now- was refusing to look anywhere but at the floor.

She knew the Emperor wasn't going to agree, she had told Geta that she believed he would try anything he could to stop this because he was cruel and he liked to see his sons suffer. It was all a game to him, a game which Geta had bested him at.

"I think you forget who you're dealing with, little boy. The priests answer to me, and no lord or Senate, let alone a Prince, can be married without my distinct approval. Which you did not gain, I hasten to add. I can annul this marriage by sunrise, then we will see what becomes of this child."

Tears burned in the corners of (Y/n)'s eyes and she leaned into Caracalla, suddenly fearing her legs were going to give out on her.

He would really go that far. He would have their union annulled because he was vindictive and they didn't have him there to approve something which he himself had orchestrated. They already had his approval in way of writing and a gentleman's handshake with (Y/n)'s father from years previous. A bond which the Emperor was clearly willing to break.

If he did this it would sever connections within the Senate. Some would side with (Y/n)'s family and father, others would agree with the Emperor simply to save their own necks. Trust in the Emperor would be lost and the people of Rome would know and sense this. Trades would go down if people thought the Emperor was no longer a man of his word.

This union was planned and in writing, he couldn't throw the sanctity of that away and claim it was out of respect or self preservation when going against this marriage was what was going to ruin them all.

"If you try to annul this marriage then all of Rome will lose faith in their untrustworthy Emperor. You gave your word, you agreed in writing, I had all the approval I needed from you."

What more could Geta have done to rectify the situation? Why could his father not go along with this? Was he that bent on things being done by his word and command that he wouldn't allow this because Geta used his initiative?

Geta wished his father would fall to his demise. He wished him to die right here in this moment. When he and Caracalla took the throne, nonsense like this wouldn't happen. People would know where they stand, Geta would always follow through on his agreements and promises. And (Y/n) would never be treated in this way ever again.

If he knew he could get away with it, Geta would have murdered his father himself by now. But he didn't have the respect of the guards and the rest of Rome yet to commit such an act and still be placed on the throne.

"Do not test my patience, I'd be willing to let her be one of your favoured women, she would be taken care of. I wouldn't cast her out on the street or put her at the mercy of her own father. I presume he has no knowledge of this marriage either and that I will need to have words with him."

Terror clutched at Geta's heart when the clicking of heels caught his attention and he turned just in time to see (Y/n) flee the room.

She wouldn't stand and listen to insults like these any longer. Insults that were going to become a reality because the Emperor wasn't going to listen to them, that was clear.

Tears burned down her face and it became harder and harder to take a proper breath when her lungs began to seize up.

How dare he say such things. How dare the Emperor imply he would be doing (Y/n) a favour by letting her remain as one of Geta's whores here in the palace. Being one of those women would degrade (Y/n), she would never marry, never be loved or respected by her family or anyone else.

She would be a common concubine raising the Prince's child in the depths of the palace, watching as the Emperor forced Geta to yield to his demands and possibly marry someone else. (Y/n) couldn't live that life, she couldn't be a woman of the night, she would rather die than face such disregard and disrespect.

Her hands fisted in her dress, hiking it around her ankles so she could run without threat of being tripped up. She didn't know where she was aiming for. Her father was with the rest of the Senates somewhere in the palace, and she had a dreadful feeling that the Emperor was going to tell him the news. Today. She couldn't face him. She couldn't face anyone else.

She had it in mind to run home and collect her things, to pack up and vanish before her father had the chance to cast her out and tell her she had dishonoured her family and was no longer part of the (Y/l/n) family or name.

The dark part of her mind told her to find a knife or head to the kitchens and look for almonds and the rest of the ingredients to form cyanide. If this marriage was annulled, (Y/n) couldn't wait for the Emperor to be dethroned or to pass away and have the twins on the throne. She would be cast out by then, she would have an illegitimate child. Taking her own life would evade that scenario and the Emperor might just be kind and remorseful enough to make her death look natural.

The hand that curled around her wrist stopped her from becoming lost in her tragic thoughts and she would of screamed if she had any air left in her lungs. Her sandals skidded along the polished floor and her body jerked to the right as Geta reeled her towards him.

He let her fall into his chest and steady her hands on his shoulders and his hands frantically moved to cup her face, trying in vain to wipe away the tears that wouldn't stop falling.

"Love, it's alright I won't-"

"He will- he- he will annul our marriage," Tears continued to stream down (Y/n)'s face as she hiccupped through her words. "Once he tells my father, I- I'm done. Cast out, d-dishonoured. He will ruin me."

Geta couldn't be sure whether she was referring to her own father or his, but it didn't matter. Once her father knew, her world would shatter. He would oppose the Emperor's annulment but if it went through, he would cast (Y/n) aside. She would lose her home, her dowry, her family and her life. She would have nothing but the love of a Prince who couldn't be hers any longer and a child she wouldn't be able to protect or support.

Her trembling hands tightened around his shoulders and she tried to tilt her head down until Geta's hands squeezed her neck and prevented her from looking away from him. He cupped her face harder and pressed their temples together until their noses were squashed together and their breaths started to entwine.

"He can't annul what has been done, the church has sanctity. The marriage had witnesses and is consummated. Love I promise you that I won't let this happen. I'll announce it, I'll tell everyone, I'll find the priest and bring him here so he can't do anything. I will do what I have to so you and our child are safe."

Rage dripped from each and every word he spoke and (Y/n) could feel the fury boiling through him and into her bones. He was gripping her so tightly that she was starting to shake and the way he smashed his lips onto hers was like no other time he had kissed her before.

There was no fever, no childish smiles or a sense of longing or desire. There was no relief and peace and sanctity like yesterday when they were married. This time, there was desperation in the way Geta kissed her, like he couldn't control anything but their touch and he wanted to keep this for himself.

His lips overcame hers, his mouth consumed her and when she tried to part her lips to breathe Geta simply inhaled the air she consumed. He kissed her until her teeth hurt and her lips were tingling and her lungs were screaming as she gasped against his mouth.

Her knees threatened to give way and her hands moved from his shoulders to grip his wrists as she inclined her head and finally managed to part from Geta just enough to gain some air.

"You'll stay here with me, you won't leave my side." It sounded more like an order than a request and (Y/n) nodded along to each word.

Leaving wasn't safe, not when her father was going to find out and if he found her, that would open another universe of problems and arguments. Being around Geta was the only way (Y/n) could remain safe.

She leaned into him until her knees started to waver and Geta was the only thing holding her up and preventing her from collapsing to the floor. But she couldn't stop crying.

There was very little they could do against the Emperor who held all control here. He could do whatever he liked, he could ruin (Y/n)'s life and reputation and their love and he seemed thrilled at the prospect.

Geta could try all his might, he could tell all of Rome he was married, he could ensure the priest didn't allow their marriage to be annulled, but the Emperor could go to great lengths to get his own way.

What were they going to do?

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mention of harm words -> 1.3k

abstract -> healing takes time...

y/n’s perspective

“His memories are still all over the place, it could be a trauma response that his brain has blocked him out from,” Doyoung said and I knew at this point this was true. 

“We’ll have checkups every few months but amnesia isn’t always a happy ending,” he said and I nodded as I was led out to the waiting room.

“You really tied your own hands up when you adopted troublesome hybrids' ' I heard and I turned around to see Chenle. I smiled… “I don’t regret getting them, I love them a lot. They also make me happy. '' I said and he chuckled. “I guess that's all that matters' ' he said and I nodded. 

“I remember how upset you were… with the whole break up,” he said and I sighed. 

“Doesn’t matter anymore… it's almost been a year anyway” I said and he chuckled. “You’ve been busy even after starting a book after so long. I heard he got a hybrid, too though? Something about his family taking in the mother of his family’s hybrid?” he said. He didn’t even like hybrids…

“Here she is” I heard and I saw Jaemin with San. “Take care of yourself,” Chenle said and I nodded as I took San. “How was it?” I asked and he looped his arm with mine as we walked down the street. 

“Find… all the memories I don't remember… is it better if I stop wanting to remember them?” he asked while looking down. 

“Why don’t we find somewhere to eat huh?”

san’s perspective

She took me to a cafe I think I heard Wooyoung talk about. It seemed familiar. She ordered us some food and he stared at me for a while before she decided to speak. 

“You know… you always wanted to come here?” she asked and I was shocked. “Really? Why… did I never come?” I asked and she gave me that sad smile she’s been giving me recently. “Look at the door,” she said and I did… What was so special? 

“It has a bell,” she said and I looked at her confused. “You used to not be able to stand the sound of bells… it caused a negative trigger” she explained. “I know you said I was in a hybrid ring where they made hybrids kill each other… Was I a bad guy?” I asked worriedly and she smiled. 

“No… you’re the sweetest hybrid I could ask for '' she said and I was relieved that she said so but something that didn’t stop haunting me suddenly resurfaced. “Then why did I hurt you?” I asked and she sighed.

“Because you hate humans and what they did to you. You thought I'd be the same” she explained, but I shook my head. “I feel comfortable with you though… I love being around you, why would I ever…” I trailed off feeling my vision start to blur. 

“Here’s your food” I heard as the waiter put our food in front of us. An iced tea and chocolate pancakes… “You really liked chocolate I found out… but if you don’t like it I'll–” “Thank you… you seem to know so much about me” I said and she smiled. 

“I like to think I do,” she said with a soft smile and I nodded. “I’m just sad… I don’t remember much about you. I just know how I feel” I confessed and she nodded. “Well, who says you can’t ask me again?” she asked and I couldn’t help but smile. 

“You’re so patient… thank you,” I said and she nodded. “Always”

I know all of the hybrids back home hate humans. Wooyoung was abandoned and called annoying or anything similar all his life besides when with her. He’s known her the longest and we’ve been friends since we met. Yeosang absolutely hates the higher class… but is insanely involved with her. I know the tigers were abused all their lives to perform dangerous stunts. 

Not all humans were the same… she was really kind. I know I could trust her with anything and have never felt unsafe since returning with her. 

I also know I made her my mate… I was her first hybrid. I belonged by her side. 

As we made it to the apartment I decided to ask… 

“So should I just stop trying to remember everything?” I asked and she sighed. “One time you told me… you wish to forget everything that used to make you sad or angry. So… it’s your choice and whatever choice you choose I'll still be here” she said and I nodded. 

“y/nie! Sannie!” I heard Wooyoung as he talked to me in a hug. “Everything is okay Wooyoung. I brought some food” she said. She mentioned that if she was getting food for me she’d have to get it for everyone… She truly cared for everyone. 

I know I hurt her… but that didn’t make her scared of me. I’ve seen how her friends look at me and the orange tigers… but she always seems to reassure me. 

While Wooyoung called for everyone, I decided to pull aside the tiger… “Can we talk?” I asked and his eyes shook but nodded. He avoided me more than everyone else. Even the white tiger made an effort to befriend me.

“Are you alright?” he asked and I nodded. “I don’t remember much but I feel annoyed by you…” I said and he nodded, not surprised. “Can… we get along?” I asked and his eyes widened with his tail suddenly twitching, catching him by surprise.

“Why all of a sudden?” he asked and I sighed. “She… she seemed to forgive me for hurting her and I know she also forgave you. I wanted to try following her example” I said and he sighed. “You don’t have to forgive me. What I did–” “Was just as bad as me apparently… I don’t remember much but I do remember hurting her. We both were wrong about her huh?” I asked and he nodded. 

“I will never forgive myself for what I did,” he said and I chuckled. “Neither will I,” I confessed. 

“Can you make me a promise?” I asked and he nodded eagerly. “I know you try your best to protect so please… When I'm not by her side and I'm often not, I don't like leaving the apartment. Please continue to protect her” I asked and he smiled.

“You didn’t have to ask that,” he said and I smiled. “Thank you, hyung!”

y/n’s perspective 

The panther was more cuddly than usual. He was already asleep, hugging me in his sleep when I heard a knock. 

“Come in,” I said and I saw Hongjoong. “Need anything?” I asked and he laughed. “I don’t think you can offer anything while trapped by San,” he said and I noticed slowly he started calling everyone by their name. Not panther… nor doberman… nor fox. San, Yeosang, and Wooyoung he’s been calling them.

“He seems to be getting better,” Hongjoong said and I nodded. “I’m glad he is… he’s more energetic too,” I said and he chuckled.

“He forgave me,” he said and I felt my eyes widen and even a smile grow on my face. “I know… he’s okay,” he said, letting out a small laugh. “You and Seonghwa are getting along with everyone… I’m glad” I said and he nodded. 

“Thank you… truly for adopting s even though I’m trouble” he said and I offered a smile. “I’m glad… I enjoy the chaos” I said and he smiled. His tail swished back and forth happily. 

“I did have a request though,” he said. “Anything,” I said and he chuckled. 

“Well… now that Wooyoung is in the process of moving into San’s room… could I possibly get my own room?”

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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[kissofhoon]

THE WAY I LOVED YOU !

(づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡ ⠀ ── ⠀𝗢𝗥 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝘆͟𝗼͟𝘂

𝙜𝖾͟𝗇͟𝗋͟𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝖾𝗌𝗍. 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝒘𝗈͟𝗋͟𝖽 𝒄𝗈͟𝗎͟𝗇͟𝗍 𝟣𝟣𝟧𝟩 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝒘𝖺͟𝗋͟𝗇͟𝗂͟𝗇͟𝗀͟𝗌. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿-𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝒏𝗈͟𝗍͟𝖾͟𝗌. 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗃𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖺! ( 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝗒 )

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𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 loves you as if you were a goddess. he worships the ground you walk on, worships you in complete totality. every waking thought and every thought before he goes to sleep is just you. you, you, YOU. everywhere he goes, he’s reminded of you. if the boys mention something you like, he’ll bring you up and shift the conversation topic to YOU just so he gush about you. he’ll even bring you up randomly in conversation, which does annoy the members a bit but he’s just sooooo in love that it makes them laugh. i swear this man’s personality revolves around you like… partially because you like to baby him, and he likes it too! whenever he’s out with the boys, he’ll see something and go “yn would like this” and then he’ll buy it and give it to you, or he’ll take a picture of it and send it to you and go “this reminded me of you :D should i buy it?” and if you say no, he’ll buy it anyway. HE JUST CAN’T HELP IT!!!! you have so many knick-knacks that he bought, you don’t know where to put it anymore. so he buys you a shelf specifically for his things and builds it just for you! he does a lot of things for you because a pretty person like you shouldn’t have to lift a finger, and as your boyfriend he has to serve you.

𝗝𝗔𝗬 loves you the same way noah loves allie in the notebook. he’ll do anything for you, including building a house from the ground up. though, whenever you have your little disagreements and discourses, he doesn’t turn to kissing and making up. he instead allows you to cool off, cooking up your favorite meal as an apology before the two of you talk it out when you’re feeling levelheaded. he’s big on gift giving too, always buying things you mention whenever you’re together and gifting it to you a few days after you’ve mentioned it. you never grow used to it since you always feel bad he’s spending so much money on you, but that’s okay to him. he loves seeing the look on your face after he’s surprised you time and time again.

𝗝𝗔𝗞𝗘 loves you the same way a little schoolboy loves a girl on the school playground; he follows you around like a lost puppy whenever you go out together, giggles whenever you show him any affection, sulks when you don’t pay attention to him. he’s just absolutely smitten about you. and he’s not afraid to show you off either. he constantly brags about how amazing his partner is, and how anything they do is pure art, and how pretty they are, practically just gushing over you to the point the boys tease him for how head over heels he is. but the moment you show him off, he gets all shy and lets out the cutest giggles known to man. he never stops smiling or giggling when you’re around, and it warms your heart knowing you landed the bestest boy possible.

𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 loves you protectively and instinctively. he can be a jealous man, but not to the point where it’s suffocating. he won’t dictate what you wear or who you hang out with or what you do, but he does have to know where you are in case of an emergency. you both share locations, and constantly text each other when you’re both out, so if you ever forget to update him, it throws him for a loop and he grows worried. sometimes he’ll spam you, but only to see if you’re okay. sometimes it leads to the both of you bumping heads, but he means well. he always does! whenever you’re out in public, he’ll hold you by the waist and glares at anyone that dares to lay their eyes on you. his cold demeanor towards strangers drive them away from you, which is his goal. and if people approach you when he’s not around, and it’s clear they’re making you uncomfortable, he’ll come up behind you and stare them down. he’s like your personal guard, but behind closed doors, he’s the biggest softie, constantly being coddled by you.

𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 loves you the same way best friends love each other. you were best friends before you started dating, and still remain each other’s best friends to this day. he’ll invite you over for sleepovers, you two get to gossip while he does your skincare and you do his nails, you even play fight over the remote before he shrieks and makes you give up the remote so he can put on his favorite show. sometimes the boys get confused because they have never once seen you display any sort of romantic affection, but that’s not what relationships solely are about. you guys show your affection in different ways, whether it’s small random gifts from time to time, the sleepovers you have, or the fun dates you guys go on. he doesn’t forget to tell how much he loves you whenever you guys spend your time together, just in case you had your doubts. because he does love you, and he’ll let you know every time after he presses the softest kiss to your lips or forehead.

𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 loves you the same way cats love each other. sometimes he’ll be overly affectionate when it’s just the two of you, letting you rest on him when you’re exhausted from your date, his hand delicately rubbing your back in comfort. he won’t change the position the both of you are in, opting to hug you close as if you were to leave him. sometimes, when you two are hanging with his friends or yours, he’ll link pinkies with you and never leave your side, following you anywhere and everywhere. on days where you’re not feeling so fantastic, he’ll take care of you — from feeding you, to helping you bathe, asking if you’re comfortable with him doing so. he’s so gentle with you, as if you’re a gem that he’s afraid may fall and break. he does everything to make sure you’re content and satisfied, but it’s not that hard since you’re always happy when he’s around.

𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 loves you in a playful manner — constantly teasing you relentlessly, pulling pranks when you don’t expect it, calling you names like booger and stink instead names like babe or sweetheart. you always return his energy, making fun of his height and laughing at old snack combinations, but at times it can be a little.. too much, and he notices that it doesn’t make you as happy as it makes him, so he dials it back. he’ll call you cute pet names from time to time, compliment you whenever you do something he finds cute or whenever you looking your best (or your worst, but he will poke fun whenever you look like you went to hell and back), sometimes under his breath when he thinks you can’t hear him, but you do and it brings a smile to your face.

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© kissofhoon, 2024

[xxgoldie]

went to karaoke and someone sang crush by david archuleta so now im thinking abt lighter romance enthusiast lorenz also listening to the most pining songs just the sappiest playlist known to man

as usual, i am Obsessed with lighter being down bad. he's such a fucking dork, i need him. have been listening to a variety of love song playlists for the last few days as i write this and its not helped the brainrot. cw: none, pure fluff, gn!reader wc: 444 (or 618 with the bonus)

when he's out and about, he tends to listen to metal and rock, the same kind of stuff that's in his demo trailer. it gets him in the right headspace for his champion duties. when he's alone, though? his headphones are playing exclusively sappy glitter-gel-pen love songs. he would rather die than let anyone know, he has an image to upkeep - wouldn't even put it past him to have a second spotify account, bc u know the girls will bug him to see his wrapped every year.

within the love song genre, his favourite songs are ones that remind him of you.

his listening history is an amalgamation of different musical styles, but what he really pays attention to is the lyrics; if there's a song that really captures the way he feels about you, or one where the singer describes their lover and they're similar to you, he can't help but put it on repeat. he also loves duets - just like with romance movies, he loves imagining its the two of you in that situation. when he's deep in crush territory, he'll even make a playlist of those songs (it's long - can't help that every other song reminds him of you).

when you're finally together, he's more open about his love of love songs. it may take a bit into your relationship, during some late-night conversation about your respective silly behaviours when you were pining over each other, for him to show you the playlist, titled with just your initial and a heart emoji. but even before that, if you happen to play any of the songs he secretly listens to, you might catch him singing along under his breath (lowkey this post every five seconds). you might chalk it up to him picking up the words of songs the girls listen to, but that's because you don't catch the way he looks at you with the lyrics on his lips.

there are other times where he'll slide up behind you in your kitchen, arms around your waist and head propped on your shoulder, the domesticity and the fact you're wearing his tshirt getting to him. he's not much of a singer, but he'll hum one of those songs in that moment (his voice has a lovely smooth n deep timbre, so his humming sounds Heavenly in your ear). he might get a little embarrassed if you recognise the song and start humming along with him, or god forbid singing, but he'll still sway the both of you along to the music. he's not much of a dancer either, but he can figure out a midnight slow dance in the kitchen for you.

bonus!! a few songs i think he'd listen to, tho kinda influenced by my own music taste (+ spotify links): kiss her you fool - kids that fly (he has it on loop when he's psyching himself up to ask you out) meteor shower - cavetown davy crochet - the backseat lovers (perhaps i'm biased on this one bc i crochet) stitch me up - set it off can't help falling in love - elvis presley cloud 9 - beach bunny ("even when we fade eventually to nothing / you will always be my favourite form of loving" really hits with his whole 'dying for love' thing) love grows (where my rosemary goes) - edison lighthouse paper rings - taylor swift jackie and wilson - hozier (there's a lot of hozier in his playlists, but he really likes the thought of a family with you, even if that's only a couple lines of the song) valentine - atlas sweet tooth - cavetown ("guess i must be satisfactory / you said you love me exactly the way i am" takes him Out i can just feel it) would you be so kind - dodie

[bellawoso]

say yes to heaven.

aitana bonmati x fem!reader

desc: gfs documentary made me cry so i had to write some fluff to make me feel better!!

you and aitana had been friends ever since you joined barcelona just a year ago. although the midfielder befriended and stuck with every newbie on the team until they found their closest friends, you and her instantly clicked and became best friends in no time.

what you werent expecting was for your platonic feelings for the brunette to blossom into a crush, which although you deemed would go away soon, never did and only became stronger.

you never acted on your feelings though, always too scared that she would never feel the same way, i mean you didnt even know if aitana was into girls or not, let alone whether she liked you back as well.

you had more or less successfully managed to suppress your feelings though. the multiple shots that mapi encouraged you to take at the club you and the team were at, seemed to make you temporarily forget about your tragically unrequited love for your best friend.

unfortunately, aitana wasnt the only one known in the team for not dating. and honestly, if anyone knew why you were laying off dating, they would not be able to blame you. however, as aitana wasnt one for teasing and pranking her teammates, they chose to not tease her for her inability to settle with anyone. opposite to aitana, you loved joining prank wars with vicky, jana, bruna, salma, pina and patri. which left you on the receiving end of relentless bullying about your lack of love life.

this night out in london was no exception, except this time, the group had decided to instead try help you find someone, and had now made it a contest of who could find someone for you first.

the rest of the team including aitana, who were much more mature than your group, had decided to come up to your table and sit with you all, making sure you wouldnt get into trouble. they had soon caught onto what your group was trying to do, and seeing the permanent pout on your face made it even funnier.

one person who was not amused though, was aitana herself, with her heart racing with fear every time someone pointed a random person out for you, and a scowl each time you winced when patri elbowed your ribs for saying no.

eventually it became too much for the midfielder to handle, as she told the group to grow up and stop being so immature and childish, before pulling you onto her lap.

your eyes widened in surprise and your cheeks flushed red as aitana then decided to loop her arms around your waist, her fingertips just dipping under the waistband of your skirt to rub small circles into your skin. your spine involuntarily shivered at the prospect of having aitana this close, and you blushed once again as she lent towards your ear to whisper something to you.

was this best friend behaviour in spain? honestly you werent too sure, but judging by the smirk that lucy sent your way, you were guessing that what you and aitana were doing was leaning more to the couple side of things.

most other people on the team who were sat around the table also seemed surprised and also amused at aitanas sudden behaviour. until vicky burst out laughing, interrupting everyones conversations as she said “i think i know someone whos perfect for y/n!” as she sent a very obvious wink at aitana, making you throw a cup coaster from the table at her head.

however it seemed that aitana hadnt found what vicky said amusing, as you felt her tense up behind you and her hands unravelled themselves from around your waist, before lightly shoving you off her lap onto the seat next to you, claiming she needed to use the bathroom.

you didnt see aitana for the rest of the night, she clung very closely to keira and ona much to your dismay. so to distract yourself from your crushes unusual and confusing behaviour, you decided to fully let loose. and what better way to do that than let pina and patri almost control your whole night, the duo were infamously known for their wild partying antics. so this came to a shock to everyone when you teamed up with them for the night, as you were know for your love to have a peaceful night in by yourself.

one of pina and patris dares was for you to somehow you and them free drinks, they waited at the end of the bar for you, incase they noticed you feeling uncomfortable and to also collect their drinks after. aitana and almost all of the rest of the team who had gone out that night were sat back down at the booth, all in their own little conversations.

you however had managed to find a spanish girl who looked to be in her late thirties, who you were almost certain looked easy enough to convince to get you free drinks. although your slightly tipsy state had you misunderstanding the dare, thinking they meant to get drinks for the entire table, which in theory it was almost impossible to get someone to buy that many drinks for a stranger. but you were a woman on a mission, and you didnt want to fail this dare at all, and you were determined to have a better night than aitana, who seemed to be completely ignoring you.

after talking and flirting with the woman for a bit, she offered to buy you a drink, to which you responded you were supposed to be getting your whole table drinks now. but as soon as you saw her pull a sleek black card out of her wallet, you knew you would be winning this dare. you managed to remember most peoples drinks, and glanced over to pina and patri who had looks of shock and disbelief on their faces at the number of drinks being made for you.

it was even better when she offered to take the two trays over to your booth after you claimed your arms were aching, pina and patri quickly trailed behind, curious at how exactly you had pulled that off.

as soon as she placed the trays of drinks down, her phone began to ring, as she spoke some fast, accented words in spanish to you, which your very tipsy brain couldnt comprehend, you quickly said adios to her followed with a drunken wave.

as pina and patri told the table the dare and how you had gotten it wrong, alexia, sandra, marta and irene shook their heads and lectured you for your actions, claiming that it was a stupid idea. whereas lucy clapped her hand on your back shouting “thanks mate” in your ear.

until ona spoke, drawing all the attention over to a very confused you “i cant believe she said that to you y/n”

you honestly had no idea what her words were, only comprehending the word “noche” making you guess she wished you a good night. “what do you mean ona? i didnt really understand it”

this made patri laugh “oh amiga, she said she wished she could have expanded her night with you, and said ‘preferably to get you in his bed’ you must have really been flirting with her”

upon hearing your newfound knowledge of what the woman said, aitana muttered under her breath of how she was tired and was going home, as she threw a glare your way, your stance visibly deflated and a deep frown settled on your face. you hated arguing with aitana, and it was so much worse that you had absolutely no idea what you have done.

you also excused yourself and began to follow aitana out, stumbling a few times as an effect of your ridiculously high heels and the large amount of alcohol youve had. you managed to catch up to her just as she was getting in her car, aitana hadnt had too much to drink tonight, so planned on driving herself home, even though she knew she would not be able to sleep with thoughts of you clouding her mind.

if you were sober, there was no way you would just rag open aitanas car door and fall straight on to the seat, but the drinks you had gave you the confidence and desperation you needed to to ask and find out what you did wrong.

“dios mio y/n! you terrified me, you cant just do that!” aitana shouted, your abrupt entrance had terrified the brunette, but you brushed her temporary shock to the side, a burning question on the tip of your tongue. “aitana have i upset you? why have you been ignoring me?” you asked with a frown on your face, completely averting your eyes from aitana. you were a sad drunk, often getting way too emotional, and the last thing you wanted to do was drunk cry in front of your crush.

“no, no- y/n, you havent! i- i just, im confused, okay? thats all, im not mad at you” aitana reassured, she avoided you tonight solely due to her confusion of her anger towards the people that your teammates had been picking out for you at the bar. if she knew how upset and anxious it had made you, then she would have stayed with you all night if it meant you were okay.

“do- do you want to come back to mine? or you can go to yours! thats fine too- honestly! i-” aitana noticed her rambling and cut herself of as she felt her cheeks heat up. “aita, i want to go back to yours please” you said softly to the midfielder. “vale cari, lets go” she responded.

as aitana navigated the streets of barcelona towards her apartment, you could help but laugh at her soft angered mutters of the irritating barcelona traffic and the dozens of traffic lights she had to stop at that she insisted were “unnecessary and a waste of time and money” as you approached a 24 hour food place on the side of the road, aitana moved her hand over to your thigh making your breath hitch. her question of whether you were hungry or not went unanswered, as you were too busy overthinking the hand on your thigh. as aitana pulled into a parking space she asked again however she was now met with your extremely flustered face.

this told aitana all she needed to know on whether her feelings for you were reciprocated or not, and the newfound knowledge that they were supplied her with enough confidence to lean over the centre console. aitana then grabbed your jawline softly, she noticed you glancing at her lips which gave her the confirmation she needed to press her lips onto yours.

the kiss started off slow, aitana not wanting you to feel uncomfortable and like you were rushing things. until you decided you wanted more and tangled your hands in her hair pulling her impossibly closer which prompted her to slip her tongue into your mouth, the kiss becoming rougher and more desperate. the kiss only ended when you were near to a point of gasping for air, and as you were still trying to catch your breath, aitana decided it would be a good time to ask “go on a date with me”. you couldnt tell if she had meant to demand you to go out with her, or whether she just forgot to form a question when translating what she wanted to say. either way, you didnt hesitate when responding “vale” with a small laugh at her way of asking you, as she turned to you with a smile at hearing the spanish fall from your lips.

———

yourinstagram

caption: shes not a very good driver 😇😇

liked by: alexiaputellas, lucybronze and 54,324 others.

comment:

lucybronze: i think we all know who that is..

-> yourinstagram: i think we all know who you left with last night (your not as subtle as you think you are)

fbcfemeni: is that caption really true?

-> yourinstagram: aitana get off barcelonas account 😭

-> fbcfemeni: its not aitana!!

-> yourinstagram: mentirosa 😬😬

user1: omg its a for aitana!!!

user2: has everyone seen barcas comments 😭

user3: not aita on the teams account 😭

[cloveroctobers]

I CAME HOME LATE — Terry Richmond [September Prompts] 🩶

A/N: listen…I’ve been wanted to write for this man since he was Mid-sized Sedan 😆 but he definitely wasn’t being talked about enough then. This isn’t anything big but I’m here to feed the tag a little with this thing so I hope you enjoy it!

PROMPT IS FROM HERE & I’m using: ²¹⁾ steaming cups of sake + ²²⁾ an airport terminal at midnight.

WARNINGS: language and some angst?

<- check out my previous anthology prompt here.

☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘

Being a night owl wasn’t foreign for you.

You were born when the twilight hit the evening sky and your mother always had a hard time getting you down for the night as a baby. For as long as Terry’s known you—since high school—it was no surprise to learn that night shifts were where you thrived best.

He’s at the airport terminal, not knowing your schedule but taking the risk to show up where you worked. He had the urge to be near you again once it was set in motion that he was selling his food truck to head east to start over with his cousin, Mike. Terry had no issue adjusting to change as long as it has substance in the end. He couldn’t leave without seeing you and although it’s been a minute since you both spoke, he didn’t take it personally.

You were his ex-wife after all but that didn’t mean that the utmost respect for you vanished. Ever. Terry made himself comfortable in the crisp cool of the quiet pale blue airport, sticking to the front of the large building but couldn’t help his eyes searching the area every so often for you. He had a feeling that you would be coming around sooner than later and exactly at 12:03am, he spots you being led to the revolving doors with a man who was dressed in security attire.

Your light laughter is almost childlike, a little raspy and airy as the both of you squeeze each other’s shoulders lightly in farewell for the night before you turn to face Terry’s direction.

“Terry,” your voice is hushed with a hint of croaking in it, which is unusual since you were normally upbeat once the moon shined but from the sound of it, the day at the airport must have been a long one.

Terry says your name with a dip of his head, eye contact always on lock, which you held before slowly closing your eyes, not knowing what to expect of this appearance.

“Everything good?” The security guard asks based on your reaction and you raise a hand up with a nod of your head, informing him that it was.

Terry briefly stared at the security guard underneath his lashes, who must have been a good friend of yours—not that good if he was letting you walk out into the night to your car on your own—sure you could handle yourself if it ever came down to it but it was the right thing to do.

“Y’all take care.” The security guard states as he realizes that Terry is no danger to you.

Terry gives a crooked smile, “you as well, man.”

You step to him, fixing the strap to your backpack on your left shoulder—your better shoulder that didn’t suffer from a extreme tear that took two surgeries to fix—, “what’s happening?”

“Hm…I thought it was a nice night so I took a ride.” Terry smirks at you while you roll your eyes and begin walking towards the automatic doors.

Throwing your head back as you stood on the sidewalk you glance at Terry and begin to walk backwards, “A nice night to throw my mind for a loop? You never did have good timing.”

He would have thought that was a jab, considering that the papers he sent your way two weeks before he got honorable discharge arrived in your shared mailbox the same day your elderly dog died. It’s not like the papers were a shock, it’s been discussed over many video chats but like you said, Terry Richmond didn’t have the best timing when it came to certain things.

He was a marine after all so timing kind of came with the profession…perhaps if you were looking for something to blame it would be that.

“Now we both know that isn’t a hundred percent true,” Terry lightly points, head downwards and a sly smile playing on the corner of his lips, “is it a crime to come see my favorite girl?”

Letting out an exaggerated yawn, you give him an expressionless face afterwards before spinning back around to head to the parking lot, with Terry following you into the foggy low sixty degree night. He’s holding the car door open for you after you unlocked it with your clicker and you’re shoving your things into the passenger side before taking a seat in the driver’s side.

You peer up at him, “Did you need something?”

“Yeah,” Terry starts, “come with me to Liu’s…just to talk.”

Raising your brows you say, “Why now?”

“He hasn’t said anything to you?” Terry questions.

Lifting your once slumped shoulders, you stare back at Terry and he’s never known you to be a liar.

“Should he have?” You press, “He’s never gotten into our shit before so why would he? If you wanted your business told, you should have said something to Ken.”

Terry snorts at the mention of Mr. Liu’s nephew.

He was a good guy but he was crap at secrets and excellent at taking direction.

“You’re not wrong,” The man with the goatee inhales, “look I won’t hold you…yet I’m leaving in the morning and i don’t know when I’ll be back. I just thought I should come by.”

He thought of you in the moment and there’s neber been a day where you didn’t think about Terry, all bright eyed and imagining the what if’s. The divorce had to happen, it was the right decision but that didn’t mean you didn’t miss him.

Terry gave you the space you needed, he couldn’t keep coming around as if the whole trajectory of your relationship wasn’t altered. It never got disrespectful however you were very vocal once you returned home from work, finding every trace of him erased from the home except for pictures. A conversation was eventually had over dinner, a passionate night was shared and just like that he was gone in the morning. You feared that you would run into him in town often, since Mr. Liu’s was pretty popular and Terry’s truck was more lowkey and out the way with a good amount of locals— just how he preferred it.

You did the best staying away from that side of town for a while before you realized how silly you were being. Life didn’t have to stop because Terry was no longer in it. That was your choice. You were never the type of person to be so dependent on anybody before.

So you thought.

Being surrounded by family constantly…you never had to feel alone. Terry was the opposite, an only child raised by a single mother who was a pediatric nurse and worked nights. He found a bonus home with your family and became part of it, no questions asked.

“You’re leaving?” You quiz, “for how long?”

Terry can see you visibly flinch after the words slipped through your lips. You were trying to put up a shield or maybe even a boundary for not caring as much. Like a concerned wife should. Just like he said before, just because you’re no longer romantically involved didn’t mean he didn’t value your friendship.

“Don’t know. Heading out to Shelby Springs for Mike and a fresh start.” Terry states and it’s not like you can feel a way about that.

Inhaling air through your teeth you say, “that bama ass place?”

Terry tells, “I know. It’s a in and out type of thing. Getting a pick up and starting a business from as far as we can get from there.”

You don’t say anything but the look on your face says enough.

“…Don’t worry.” He starts.

Scoffing you reply, “who’s worried?”

“That pretty little face is.” Terry even pokes your cheek with his free hand that’s not holding the door open but you slap his hand away, leaving him smiling softly, “so…are you coming with me?��

“To Shelby springs? Hell no!” You jest with a wink, “I can go for a vegetable spring roll though.”

There’s amusement in Terry’s eyes as he nods, “that’s it?”

“I don’t like to eat heavy at night, remember?” You defend.

A hearty breakfast was always more your speed.

“Yin and Yang,” Terry smiles at a memory you don’t push for him to share because you’ve probably thought about it plenty times before whenever you had breakfast alone, “You’ll lead?”

“Course.” You give a small smile and Terry makes sure you’re all the way in before shutting the door behind you.

He follows behind you on his bike and the airport is a good distance from downtown. It’s not long before you’re trying to pull over but Terry just zooms past you, grinning back at you over his shoulder while you’re shaking your head in disbelief behind the wheel.

This was a challenge for Terry, a norm to not only test himself but you and you never backed down from a competition.

Letting out a low-whistle you comment, “Moving like that and you’re traveling to Shelby in the morning?” You say as you walk up to the doors where Terry is waiting, “you might be taking a long nap instead.”

The both of you were hardly sleepers, you with your hint of OCD and mind racing always finding something to do and Terry was always on military time even before he went into the field. He was the earliest riser and believed in that old saying, “the early bird catches the worm.” Your rest time together involved pillow talk, just breathing the same air either facing each other or you being the little spoon, and of course there were times where you both didn’t mind helping the other go to sleep.

After locking up his bike, he shifts the keys around on the ring to unlock the restaurant holding the door open, “Nah, I’ve got the best stamina in the world.”

Spinning to face Terry after he locks the door behind you two, you’re pushing your lips out with a tilt of your head once his eyes settle back on you. It’s a teasing smile and he’s leans towards you on his way by, “get your head outta the gutter.”

Laughing in between the stools, you turn to rest your elbows on the counter which Terry is behind now. He asks, “You down for some of Ken’s sake?”

“Ah…now I see.” You sigh dramatically, “you brought me here to get me drunk.”

Terry laughs, “no. I just remembered that you enjoyed it a lot back in Japan and Ken’s been experimenting thanks to his dad’s recipe all while offending Mr. Liu.”

Where you got married.

“I can’t even tell you the last time—fuck it! It’s your going away night and you should be honored that I’m here so why not?”

“How did this turn into praising yourself?” Terry jokes as he gets ready to prepare the warm beverage.

You grumble, “Somebody besides myself needs to.”

Terry flicks his spring green hues to you, “so you’re not seeing anyone?”

“It’s not the security guard.”

Terry frowns, “funny how I didn’t even mention him.”

Wagging your finger at him you respond, “I saw the way you were analyzing my friend with that high opacity setting that you call eyes.”

He pauses and snickers, “oh yeah? And what did they say?”

“You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt because that’s just how you are but…you were curious about us.”

“That was a thing then?” He quirks up a brow while you press your cheek into your fist.

“Nope!” You answer as you move to sit up on one of the chairs, “That gorgeous chocolate man is happily taken with four kids, with three of them being triplets.”

“Damn!”

“Terry.”

He laughs and then shrugs, “what? I’m only kidding…kids are blessings.”

You hummed as you watched him work for a while before he’s placing steaming sake in front of you.

“What should we toast to?” You ask, pinching at the glass before finding a safe spot of the cup to hold up, “Goodbye’s?”

Terry immediately furrows his brows, “come on now…you know that’s what I’m actually not good at. Look at this as more of an…until next time.”

Clinking your cup against his as a response, you both slowly sip at the hot sake and its sweetness is felt with its warmth. “Not bad, Ken. Not bad.”

You both share a laugh, letting the silence hit while the sake cools off some. The silence doesn’t last long before you’re both poking fun at each other and falling into more conversation. It flows even when it gets tense, blood burning as your feelings come to the surface with Terry listening to you intently and speaks to you calmly.

“When I brought up divorce the first time it was never to be manipulative…it was to save us both the heartache of this ongoing distance.”

You open your mouth to interupt but Terry stared at you from underneath your eyelashes, which makes you deeply sigh, “We grew apart but we tried. You know it and I know it. No matter how long you would have held me down it happened and I felt like you deserved better than that. I thought you felt the same way when you agreed and signed.”

It’s not like you signed right away! You actually took your sweet ass time, even when he pulled what he pulled.

“I mainly signed because you pissed me off, sneaking through the house to get your things like a thief in the night while I was at work. I should ask how you managed to do it all but then I remembered who you are.” You exhale, “I’ve got to get some hobbies besides working myself to the bone and constantly thinking about you. I should be over this already. It’s been months.”

“We did put in a solid five years of marriage though.”

Dated since senior year just for him to go off to the military three years later. The love and the effort was there but you been around a lot of military significant others at group meetings and their stories were much worse. So you tried to be thankful of the time shared but that didn’t mean you didn’t have your own sorrow too.

‘It’s not something you can just get over.’ Terry thinks.

“That we did.”

And it’s back to the eye game again and it makes your stomach feel like flipped flapjacks.

You can’t stand Terry Richmond.

He intertwined your fingers once you’re both outside. This was happening, he was leaving again and you chose to be numb about it on the outside but slightly achy on the inside. It was weird really, how you could both live in the same town and never run into each other but it still felt comforting to know that you were both out there carrying on—even if it wasn’t beside one another.

You wish he would hold you instead of your hand but Terry didn’t want to cross that line. Not when you revealed that your heart wasn’t really in it to sign the papers in the first place.

Squeezing his rough hand back before letting go, you’re aware that he’s crashing at the restaurant tonight so it’s closer in the direction he’ll be heading in the morning. Yet there’s still a part of you that wishes he would come home.

It’s early when your eyes peel open to focus on your block out curtains. They were the best investment you made (from a cousin you didn’t like—but no one can say you were never supportive) since it’s always sunny in this town and the only time you preferred light was in your kitchen and living room but you still have a feeling that it’s early morning. You sit up in bed, ears searching for any sound in your bungalow.

Your feet are sliding into your slippers, knuckles rubbing into your eyes as you peek at the clock on the nightstand to see it’s another 5am. As you’re handling your business in the bathroom across the hall from your bedroom, you can’t help that pull in your gut that brings you to the front of your home.

Flicking on the lights, you yelp at the sight of Terry sitting in the dark of the living room staring off in space.

It’s been days since you last saw him.

You pushed him to the back of your mind like you trained yourself to do. Putting your attention elsewhere and even picked up a hobby to keep yourself preoccupied besides just those long double shifts at the airport.

Now he was back and something shifted within him again that didn’t sit well to you. You carefully took a step towards him and his eyes followed you but much slower this time.

“Terry,” breathe his name, “…what’s wrong?”

He simply flips the palm of his hand over that’s resting on his knee and you reach out to place yours right in his while you move to sit next to him. Terry squeezes your hand like his life depends on it and it makes your heart rate spike, it doesn’t hurt—he’d never purposely do so—but it’s strong enough to let you know that he needs you.

“Can I get you something? Water? Those shady over easy eggs you like so much?”

That gets a snicker to escape his lips, always finding your issue with eggs to be humorous. You were not an egg person and commonly called it, “the devil’s snot,” which let Terry know you might have been spending too much time with your granny and great-aunties.

“Maybe later,” he says, “can you just be here with me?”

You don’t hesitate to cup his face once he turns his gaze to you and not this daze he seems to be in. He slowly blinks at your touch, head moving to press a kiss into the palm of your hand. You nod and he moved again to lay in you lap, hands wrapping around your hips tight that you have to remind yourself to breathe.

Something was wrong and you were determined to fix it—if he would let you. You didn’t push him and let Terry rest as you squeezed one of his shoulders being trailing your fingers across his back to the other.

That’s when you felt it underneath his shirt, a bandage of some sorts. You kept it to yourself for now, knowing he would tell you as you continued rubbing circles across his back to soothe him.

It had to have been a half hour when Terry dozed off and your legs were aching. You forgot to put a pillow down for extra cushion but Terry never had any problems using your body as his personal pillow. Some things never change.

Your attempt to weasel out of his hold was a challenge before you realized he was holding onto you on purpose. It was good to still see some humor in him due to whatever happened once he left this town.

“Be for real,” you tell him as he looks back at you, “I’m trying to get up and make breakfast and this is what we’re doing?”

Terry sits up, always the light sleeper but there’s a weight in his chest that won’t ever subside, “wanted to see if you still had it in you to get out of my hold…you need some more work.”

“I lug baggage at the airport that’s heavier.” You sass pushing yourself off the couch, “I didn’t get my stretches in yet so excuuuse me, Mr. Richmond.”

Terry mutters playfully, “sounds like excuses to me.”

“You know what? It’s too early for your irritation so why don’t you take another nap?”

Terry shakes his head as you make your way over to the fridge, “nah, I much rather watch your face while you mentally fuss over the eggs.”

“Ah so I’m your source of entertainment for you this morning am I?” You place your hands on your hips as Terry places his elbows into his knees, “let me go find my flapper dress.”

“…I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a dress again.” He admits, eyes burning into you from across the room.

Rolling your eyes you turn right back around so he couldn’t see how much of an effect that had on you. It shouldn’t by any means but here your insides were acting up!

When you turn around with the carton in your hands, you’re met with Terry’s chest that catches you by surprise. His arms lock over your shoulders as you carefully hold onto the eggs and feel him relax against you. He always smelled like leather and pine and that also hasn’t changed. Slowly you snake a free arm across his waist and lean your ear into his chest, finding his heartbeat. It’s always the most soothing thing, equivalent to your hands on his back.

You’re not sure how long you’re holding onto each other but you don’t question what this is all about or what this is for. You didn’t need to, you knew Terry Richmond and you knew when something was up, regardless of the distance that was between the two of you. He came to you in the middle of night at your job and again in the early morning. The pull was still there and perhaps it would always be that way.

He wants to help you make breakfast, after he lets go of you and you almost tell him to sit his big behind down, sensing that he was injured in more than one way but he’s not exactly a guest in this home. So he puts in the work beside you, just like old times and begins to open up about his time in Shelby springs much to your own heartache for him.

Terry arrived back home after all this time and as you sat from across each other just listening, you realized him being here was better late than never. 

☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘

Continue with my September anthology prompts here.

[leahwllmsn]

august

alessia russo x reader

word count: 4.5k

Alessia has someone else and you should’ve known better.

; angst, cheating

I’m in love with Alessia Russo. It was that thought that kept on repeating in your head as Alessia’s blue eyes stared right into yours. With that thought playing on a loop in your head, your gaze dropped to her lips and you unconsciously bit your own. You saw she did the same and you almost, almost leaned forward to capture those plump lips in yours.

But this was Alessia Russo and Alessia Russo had a boyfriend and you knew it wouldn’t be right.

It took everything in you to get your back off the lockers and push her away.

You didn’t even remember how you got into that position in the first place—with Alessia inches away from you, pinning you against the lockers of the changing room.

Shaking your head, you swore that you would never let yourself get that close to Alessia again. You didn’t think you’d have the willpower to resist next time.

But nothing ever went your way and next time came a second later.

Alessia grabbed your wrist and tugged you closer. It was the closest you had ever been to each other and you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.

“Alessia…” you whispered. You didn’t know what she wanted from you. Alessia had someone, why would she want you?

“Kiss me.” Alessia whispered back and you thought you had to be dreaming. But she repeated her words once again and you felt all the air rush out your body.

“Are you sure?”

You knew that you were crazy to even think about agreeing to the girl in front of you. But having Alessia so close after years of admiring her from afar, you were starting to feel every selfish bone in your body.

So when Alessia nodded, you didn’t waste another second before you pulled her neck and crashed your lips together.

Her hands immediately went to your hips, lifting you up and pushing you against the wall. You knew the door was unlocked and anyone could come in at any moment, but you didn’t care. Besides, it was off-season so no one was likely to be here. So you wrapped your legs around Alessia’s waist and enjoyed the soft moans coming from the blonde as you ran your hand through her hair.

It was the middle of summer. You were exploring the Arsenal training grounds—your future club once the new season starts. The staff told you that you were welcome to use the facilities before training resumed, allowing you to familiarize yourself with the place. Nobody had any more reason to be here since the season has ended, so it was a surprise when you found Alessia Russo doing some shooting practicing on the empty field.

It was another surprise to have your training kit forgotten on the floor as you spent hours worshiping every single inch of Alessia Russo’s body.

-

But I can see us lost in the memory

August slipped away into a moment in time

'Cause it was never mine

-

You’ve met Alessia a number of times, your paths always seemed to intertwine. Her playing for England as a forward and you for the Netherlands as a defender, it was inevitable, really.

You two were the same age, thus making appearances for the U15 squad at around the same time until you both made it to the senior squad, at the same time too.

But your relationship with Alessia never went further than the typical hellos and how are yous, which seemed ridiculous with the amount of times your paths crossed. You didn’t even think you two could be considered as friends.

Still though, you managed to develop a crush on her, which over the years, seemed to only magnified—a result of your longing glances from afar on and off the pitch, you watching her post-match interviews from the side like she hung the stars in the sky (plus you watching all the videos of her on Youtube—it was a bit pathetic), and how you hang on to every word your teammates said whenever they shared stories about the great Alessia Russo.

Despite all that, you didn’t try to form some sort of relationship with her. You weren’t the most confident kid on the block. You were fine with that though—admiring her from afar.

Alessia had always seemed to be a galaxy away from your reach.

You knew the incident that happened at the locker room—stupidly charming Alessia Russo looking at you like you were the eighth wonder of the world and not the other way around, it was a nice change for once—you knew it was a one-in-a-million type of thing, and although it was wrong, you couldn't help it. It was all the pent up longing emotions.

You promised yourself that you weren’t going to let your feelings for Alessia cloud your judgment anymore. As much as you wanted it to happen again, you knew better.

-

Turns out, the incident at the locker room happened again a week later. (You hated how weak you were for Alessia).

You went with your parents to have dinner at their friends’ house, who turned out to be Alessia’s parents and you couldn’t help how wide your eyes went at the sight of none other than Alessia opening the front door.

Unlike last time, Alessia didn’t have her training gear on. This Alessia had a pair of skinny jeans and a white crop top that slightly showed off her abs and you felt so full of a sin for having memories of ripping Alessia’s top while you were with your parents.

“Mr and Mrs y/l/n, happy to see you again,” Alessia greeted them with a hug and a smile on her face. She turned to you and you were surprised when Alessia went to hug you too. “Happy to see you again too, y/n.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you two knew each other!” Your mom’s tone was full of surprise and you didn’t blame her one bit—you usually kept to yourself. The only people your parents were familiar with were your Netherlands teammate, Viv and Jill.

“Just recently,” Alessia answered, her eyes fixated on you. “We spent hours getting to know each other last week.” You want to wipe that damn smirk off her face. “We are going to be teammates after all.”

You cleared her throat, looking away. You definitely spent hours getting to know each other, but it most definitely wasn’t what your parents were thinking about.

“Oh yes! That’s so lovely!” Your mom laughed. “You must bring her out more often, Alessia. We keep on worrying that our schatje will be stuck with two friends for the rest of her life.”

You grimaced at your mom. “I do have friends.”

“Schatje?”

Your dad went on to explain that it was a term of endearment, mentioning how you didn’t really like it when they called you that, and how you especially didn’t like it when they called you y/n/n.

“Oh that’s a cute one,” Alessia told your dad and your scowl deepened further. You hated how Alessia’s eyes glimmered in amusement.

“It’s just a shortened version of my name,” you waved off. “It’s not that hard to say the whole thing.”

“Any other nickname of hers I should know about?” Alessia grinned at your mom.

“Didn’t you say you two spent hours with each other last week?” Your dad asked, head shaking in amusement.

You could only pray that your face wasn’t turning completely red. “It—it didn’t come up.”

Alessia only laughed and ushered them inside. When your parents were out of earshot, Alessia whispered to your ears, “Can’t wait to know which of your names will be my favourite to scream out.”

You couldn’t concentrate on the entire dinner.

-

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets

August sipped away like a bottle of wine

'Cause you were never mine

-

Alessia’s face was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. She was looking at you, lying on her side with one hand under her head. Her blonde hair was messy, the sunlight seeping through the curtains made her skin glow more than usual. You thought that she was the most beautiful girl you had ever seen.

You cleared your throat. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Alessia said back. “Thanks for sleeping over.”

“Thanks?” you laughed.

Alessia hummed, grinning. “Yes, thanks. You are so good with your—”

“Less!” you immediately put your hand on her mouth and she laughed in response.

“I’m only joking,” Alessia took your hand and intertwined it with hers. “You’re fun to talk to.”

“We only talked for… an hour,” you noted.

“Still,” Alessia shrugged. “I really like talking to you.”

You went quiet after that. You noted how the silence was far from awkward despite you two barely knowing each other.

Alessia’s hands moved to caress your cheeks and you were starting to feel the weight of her touch. What were you doing? You had no right to be in Alessia’s bed. You knew how wrong it was.

But at the same time, it felt so right that you couldn’t help but bury yourself deeper into Alessia’s bedsheets, swallowing yourself with scents of the blonde girl.

“Why are you staring at me?” you whispered.

“Because you’re beautiful.”

You scoffed. “I’m not.”

“You are,” Alessia furrowed her brows. “You’re very beautiful, y/n.”

“There are more beautiful people.”

“Like who?” Alessia looked curious.

“You.”

You had front row seats to the way Alessia’s cheek turned a brighter red and you enjoyed how she tried to act unaffected by your words.

“Well, I am beautiful.” Alessia said, her voice teasing.

“Aaand I’m leaving.” you sat up, pretending to leave.

“No,” Alessia whined, tugging you back down. “But you’re more beautiful, is what I meant to say.”

You snuggled into her chest. You wondered how something so wrong could feel so right.

“Should we put some clothes on?”

“Why?” Alessia asked, her hand gently stroking your back.

“Because,” you stopped her hand that was trailing further and further down. “Your parents can come in at any second.”

“True.” Despite that, Alessia made no move to untangle herself from you, only hugging you tighter.

You giggled. “So can you let go of me or…?”

“This feels nice.”

“But your parents—”

“I locked the door.”

You playfully slapped her arms. “You couldn’t say that in the beginning?”

Alessia giggled and kissed the top of your head.

You closed your eyes and sighed in content. It felt really nice being in Alessia’s arms. With her this close to you, you could pretend that she was yours—even if it was just for a moment.

“Lessi?”

“Hm?”

“This does feel nice, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

“What are you doing for the rest of the summer?” you asked.

“Spending time with you, if you’re free.” Alessia answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’ll make myself free for you then.” That wasn’t what you should have answered. You should’ve resisted Alessia’s grip and gone home that day and erased any memories of her.

“How does every day this summer sound?”

But you decided that being with Alessia was too addicting.

“It sounds perfect.”

So you let yourself pretend a little longer.

-

less: come join me at the beach

y/n: it’s so hot out today

less: it’s the perfect weather

less: plus I miss you

y/n: fine

-

Your back

Beneath the sun

Wishing I could write my name on it

-

“Told you it’s the perfect weather.”

You looked to your right. Alessia was laying on her front, her back in full display and you wanted nothing more than to run her hands up and down the bare skin. But there were people around and you were sure that what they had could only happen behind closed doors.

“Yeah.” you turned your attention back to your book, but you couldn’t concentrate on what you were reading. Not when you could feel Alessia’s gaze on you.

“What book are you reading?”

“Anna Karenina.”

“Oh, I’ve read that before.”

You looked at her, amused. “You have?”

Alessia laughed. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

You shrugged, a smile on your lips. “You don’t seem like the type who reads books.”

“Hey! I do!” she lifted her head up, resting her chin on the palm of her hands. “Anna had an affair right? And she ran away with her lover to Italy, or something.”

You hummed. “Like what we’re doing right now, isn’t it? Minus the running away part.”

Alessia didn’t say anything at that and you realized how they had never talked about their situation before.

“Less—”

“Please don’t tell anyone,” It was the first time that you heard her sound so timid. “I’m still with my boyfriend.”

Your heart broke at Alessia’s words. You did know from the start that she had someone else and that this wasn’t meant to be anything more than a love affair, but still, it hurt.

“I won’t,” you tried her best to smile. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“I know it’s not fair to you,” she broke your eye contact, her fingers started playing aimlessly with the sand. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m okay,” you replied. You focused your gaze back to your book, trying your best to not show your emotions—at least, not now, not when Alessia was in front of you. “I’ve always known you have him.”

It was far from fine. You felt horrible. You knew a million reasons why this whole thing was wrong.

But you were in love with Alessia Russo and you just wanted to be selfish for a little longer.

So when a notification popped up in Alessia’s phone and you saw a boy kissing her cheek on the lockscreen, you pretended you didn’t see it.

-

Will you call when you're back at school?

I remember thinkin' I had you

-

Meeting everyday became a frequent thing and soon enough, Alessia was everywhere.

You would walk down to your kitchen to find her already having breakfast with your parents. Or on days where you woke up earlier than usual, you would jog to Alessia’s house and jump on top of her sleeping figure (to which Alessia would always complain but you could still see the hint of a smile).

You would have sleepovers and mornings together before you two decided to play some football together, it was the one thing you two loved more than anything.

If the security guards and the few staff around started noticing how you and Alessia were always together, they never mentioned it.

Once you two are done, Alessia would drag you off the field to an unused closet and you truly hated how you were getting used to the comfort of tight places with the amount of time you spent hiding away.

“You know,” Alessia trailed a finger down your chest. “You’re the best one I ever had.”

You rolled her eyes. “I bet you say that to everyone.”

You two were on the floor, your clothes spread out haphazardly around you. You were laying on your back, Alessia on top of you. Despite the cold, hard floor, you enjoyed every second of having Alessia’s weight pressed against you.

“No, it’s true,” Alessia smiled flirtatiously. “Who knew? y/n l/n, a monster in bed.”

“You’re always so blunt,” you laughed and leaned forward to peck Alessia’s lips. “We’re not even in a bed right now.”

“Does your back hurt?”

“Just a bit.” Alessia looked worried at your answer so you quickly flashed her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay though, I’m getting used to the floor.”

Alessia shook her head and smiled amusedly at you. “Maybe I should buy an inflatable bed.”

You hummed. “And how will you explain to everyone when they see you carrying a bed to this tiny closet?”

Alessia rested her head on your chest and you instantly wrapped your arms around Alessia. “I’ll just say that it’s none of their business.”

You laughed in response and hugged Alessia tighter.

“Are you hungry?” Alessia asked.

“I’m always hungry.”

“I knew you’d say that.” Alessia’s tone was full of endearment and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips. “Let me sleep for five minutes then we’ll grab some food, okay?”

Before you could reply, you could already hear Alessia’s soft snores. You let out a chuckle, your hand tracing circles on Alessia’s back as you stared at the ceiling.

You didn’t know how long this would last. You were naive to think it would be forever.

-

You ended up bumping into Alessia’s ex-teammate at lunch. You and Alessia were standing outside a sushi restaurant, waiting to be seated, when you saw two familiar figures walking towards you.

You tugged at your intertwined hands. “Less, isn’t that-”

“Mary and Ella.” you weren't surprised when Alessia immediately dropped your hand.

Alessia looked anxious, she was looking around and you wondered if she was going to ask you to leave.

You could see Mary and Ella recognizing Alessia as they walked closer and closer. And once they were right in front of you, Ella spoke up. “Less? Thought you were too tired to join us!”

“I am.” Alessia answered quickly. Her posture was tense and any trace of smile that she had on previously had now completely disappeared.

It was then that Alessia’s friends noticed you standing next to Alessia. They looked at you and their faces lit up in recognition. “Hi, y/n! How have you been, mate? Did you and Less come here to have lunch?”

Alessia moved away from you and you would be lying to say that it didn’t hurt.

“Oh, we didn’t come together. Must be a coincidence.” You weren't surprised at Alessia’s answer, after all no one was supposed to know about them.

Mary and Ella didn’t seem to believe Alessia, so you stepped back, moving to leave. “Yeah, no, I saw Alessia standing by herself and went to say hello.”

When Alessia didn’t say anything else, still keeping her eyes glued to the floor, you bid goodbyes to Mary and Ella, turned around and left.

-

less: I’m sorry

-

Back when we were still changin' for the better

Wanting was enough

For me, it was enough

To live for the hope of it all

Cancel plans just in case you'd call

-

Alessia didn’t call or text you again for a few days and you decided that you weren't going to be the first one to do so.

But despite everything, you missed Alessia.

And it was for that reason that you spent your mornings waiting by your phone in hopes that a notification from Alessia would appear.

When night time came and there was still nothing from the blonde girl, you decided that waiting was hopeless, you turned off your phone and get ready for bed. It felt like an endless cycle.

You managed to turn off all the lights and slid under the covers, yet every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was you and Alessia tangled in bedsheets.

You wondered how you could forget about Alessia when she was all you think about.

-

You woke up in the middle of the night, exactly four days since you last spoke with Alessia. The first thing you noticed was the sudden weight against your back. You looked down and saw an arm encircling your waist and you were surprised that Alessia managed to enter your room without waking you up (Alessia was the noisiest and clumsiest person you had ever met).

You sighed and turned around. Alessia wasn’t asleep. After hours of watching her sleep, you could tell when she was only pretending. So you leaned forward and placed your forehead against hers.

Alessia’s eyes slowly blinked open and despite it being dark, the moonlight from the window was able to illuminate Alessia’s features perfectly.

“Hi,” Alessia whispered. “Your parents let me in.”

“I thought you were never going to come,” you confessed.

“I’m late, but I’m here.” Alessia brought her hand up to your face, trailing a finger from your forehead down to your chin.

You offered a small smile. Were you pathetic for finally feeling at ease with Alessia next to you?

“About the thing with Ella and—” she started but you quickly interrupted her.

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t.

You knew what Alessia did was unnecessary. You two were going to be teammates—heck, you two were friends. There was no reason to hide any friendship. But you guessed Alessia didn’t want to be associated with you at all and it hurt.

So, no, it wasn’t okay.

But you were in love with Alessia and you didn’t want to lose her. “No one can know, right?” you gave her a small smile—it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

You’d take having Alessia in secret than not having her at all.

-

So much for summer love and saying "us"

'Cause you weren't mine to lose

-

“My boyfriend’s back in town.”

Alessia said it so casually one night that you were caught off guard. Your hand that was gently stroking Alessia’s back stopped mid-air and you slowly sat up, leaning against the headboard and bringing the covers closer to your chest.

All at once, all the dread that you had been trying not to feel came rushing in and after a month of running around with Alessia by your side in secret, reality had finally sunk in and you couldn’t do anything but hope that after everything, you meant something to her.

You knew it was a long shot, but you hoped she would choose you.

“Right.” you replied, because what else were you supposed to say? You didn’t even know where he had gone, you never asked about him and Alessia never talked about him either.

The only thing you knew about Alessia’s boyfriend was that he had something that you so badly wanted.

Alessia fished for a t-shirt that was on the floor and put it on. (You tried to count just how many of your clothing Alessia had brought home and never returned).

The blonde sat cross-legged in front of you. “What’s with the face?”

“What face?”

She gently touched your forehead. “You’re frowning.”

“Oh,” you shook her head, giving a chuckle. “I don’t know.”

You were quiet for a while. You knew how this night would end—you hoped you were wrong though.

But when Alessia smiled and it was a smile so wistful, you knew that you were going to end up with a broken heart.

“You made my summer more bearable, you know,” Alessia admitted. “My family’s a drive away but I see them all the time and I would hang out with the few friends I have here sometimes, but with you, it was so… exhilarating. You made me feel so many things at once, I always felt like I couldn’t keep up.”

You stayed quiet. This wasn’t fair. You did know she had someone else, but after everything you had been through this August, did everything mean nothing to her?

“You’re going to end things, aren’t you?” you spoke up, your voice barely a whisper.

Alessia didn’t answer and it was the confirmation you needed.

“I know what we did was wrong,” you continued. “It will never be right and I’ll always feel guilty about it. But don’t I mean something to you, Less?”

Alessia pulled her knees to her chest, a sigh escaping her lips. “You mean everything to me.”

“Then?” your voice was desperate. “Why are you still with him?”

“It’s complicated.”

You scoffed. “What can be so complicated?”

Alessia gave a small shrug and didn’t elaborate further. So you took a deep breath and leaned forward, taking her hands in yours. “Be with me.”

“y/n… I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t.”

“But I love you.”

Alessia’s head immediately snapped up. “You can’t.”

You furrowed your brows. Who was she to tell you that you couldn't feel that way? “But I do.”

“We can’t do this anymore, y/n,” Alessia took her hands away from your grip. “Summer’s over.”

“Was that all I ever was to you? A summer fling?”

Alessia didn’t reply, instead she stood up and put her pants on, rummaging around for her bag.

“Lessi,” your voice was a plea. “You’re leaving?”

She took a deep breath and you could see how teary her eyes were. “Please don’t chase after me, y/n. We can’t do this anymore.”

Stopping at the door, she turned to you one last time and whispered an “I’m sorry”.

That was the last time Alessia stepped foot in your bedroom.

-

You should’ve known better.

Parking your car at the training ground, you looked around and saw how alive this place was after days of secret moments shared between you and Alessia through the barren place. Your heart stings at the memories and you couldn’t help but search for Alessia. With every move you took—stepping out of the car, opening the back door to retrieve your kit bag, locking your car—your mind always returned to her.

And when you finally spotted her, standing by the entrance as she kissed her boyfriend goodbye, their hands staying intertwined until he walked away, you heard your heart break in two.

You should’ve known better.

Your eyes met and you still hoped that Alessia would change her mind.

But Alessia looked away and you had to swallow the bitter reality that she would never be yours.

Walking to the locker room, you wondered how you could ever find someone else when the only person that you wanted was Alessia.

“y/n, hey! Welcome! How was your summer?”

You shrugged. You didn’t even know who had asked you the question, you kept your eyes on your kit bag, rummaging around for your training kit, not bothering to look sideways.

“I feel you,” the girl continued. “August was somehow the worst month.”

You scoffed, your heart breaking and breaking at all the memories. “I agree.”

It was at that moment that Alessia entered the room, hair in a ponytail, looking everywhere but you.

You wondered how quickly she was able to forget about August when you still had dreams of it every time you close your eyes.

When your first training with your new club ended, before you went home, you found a note in your locker. You hated how a piece of paper was able to make you cry, but you kept it in the pocket of your jacket, close to your heart, nonetheless.

You spent the whole ride home thinking about whether you should forget or keep your dreams of Alessia.

You decided that for now, having Alessia’s smile in your dreams was better than not seeing it at all.

I really am sorry for everything

- Lessi

[tragedy-of-commons]

an apology for the last one. and also one from the correct fandom this time: robin + PURPLE LILAC + catharsis + redamancy, please? thank you :D

PURPLE LILAC:  they’re falling first, and falling hard.

catharsis  —  emotional release.

redamancy  —  the act of loving in return.

childhood friends, pre-canon (both reader and robin are kids here), fluff and pining, mentioned sunday ^^

“Miss Robin, I just wish I had your hair!”

Your gushing is accompanied by skillful, dexterous movements of your fingers. The gentle appendages glide through her tresses, looping and arranging each strand to your liking. It’s a familiar scene, the one she shares with you now; baubles lined against the vanity’s edge, a collection of perfume bottles, barrettes, and other wondrous beauty paraphernalia present. 

You go about weaving a crown plait, the very same hairstyle you’d pointed out earlier in Penacony’s Lovely Lady magazine with a stubby finger, proclaiming that she simply must allow you to style hers in the same manner. Robin had immediately agreed, trying in vain to shield the flush of her cheeks with her headwings.

For the little time you’ve known one another, you sure do know how to endear yourself - with excited smiles and promises of boundless friendship.

“It’s not that special,” she dismisses easily, staring at her reflection. The lightbulbs affixed to the frame of the mirror really make her feel like the rising star she dreams of becoming, even if she’s just in her bedroom with you. “And you don’t have to call me ‘Miss Robin’ if you don’t want to. There’s no need for formalities, promise.”

You sigh, shrugging. “Oops, sorry. I guess I’m just not used to being so informal. I think my mom would kill me if she heard that I didn’t address you properly! The Oak Family was kind enough to give her a job, so it just feels like the right thing to call you.”

Robin wishes that you didn’t feel like that - like there’s a whole world separating you from her. She’s never known a bond this close save for her brother, whom she is grateful for, by the way - but the dynamic she has with you is different. The Halovian siblings have always been sheltered and warned of external influences, but the day you bounded in by your mother’s side, introduced as part of the staff, you were (hesitantly) deemed fit for Robin to associate with.

The signature mellow jukebox churning out a tune brings her back to the conversation at hand. “I understand, but I hope you know you’re not obligated—”

“There you go again, talking like a grown-up,” you laugh.

“Sorry! I don’t mean to.” 

“No, no. I like the way you talk; it’s pretty like the rest of you! And besides, you’re gonna need to sound all mature when you give interviews all over the cosmos.”

It’s pretty like the rest of her. 

Robin focuses on you, now. You’re still hard at work, making sure her hair is evenly distributed to make the perfect wreath. It accentuates her halo which floats inches above her head, making your aesthetic choice all the more thoughtful. Your eyes, slightly narrowed in concentration, don’t notice the unadulterated look of admiration she’s sending you. 

“Interviews…” she swallows. “You really think I’ll get that far? I haven’t even sung in front of anyone besides you and Sunday.” 

Taking a moment to close her eyes, images of you and her brother pop up in her mind; the pair of you sitting cross-legged on the floor while she tremulously stutters along to handwritten lyrics. Sunday shooting to his feet first after she’d hummed the final note, you following suit to join him in a standing ovation. 

Robin likes to think she’s improved a little bit since then, and she knows that even with the Harmony’s blessing, her voice wasn’t exactly… proficient, all those months back. But she felt on top of the world, like the luckiest girl in the universe - because you were there. 

Her brother may fight you for the position of her #1 fan, but you, the one who’d gone out of their way to befriend her despite the obstacles? 

Yeah, she’ll always see you as the cool one.

“Of course you will!” you scoff, like her potential success is some undisputed fact of nature. “And if you ever get nervous, talking to reporters or paparazzi or whoever,” The updo seems to be to your satisfaction, so you grin and reach for a bottle of hairspray, “I’ll be there to help! I can be your cheerleader.”

Her heart lurches. Sure, she’s imagined you in her daydreams. Sometimes you’re a backup singer, sometimes you’re on the keys, and other times, you’re in the first row of the audience, with that same lovely smile on your face. To hear that you want the same thing, even in jest, is enough to hammer hope into the future beyond - the one she’s previously sidelined for Family obligations.

Robin’s eyes fly back open, startled out of her stupor as you assault the finished crown plait with the setting agent. She coughs in surprise after inhaling the cloying smell, causing you to laugh. 

“What, don’t want me there?” you tease, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “I get it—”

She interrupts, determined and teary-eyed, “No! I’d love that. You… that’d be really cool. We’d travel together and lift people’s spirits, bringing so much joy to those that need it.”

You want to be there, in this hypothetical future. With her.

“Okay. Let’s call it a promise,” you recover from your chuckling and then gesture to her hair with a gentle flourish. “Whaddya think? You look amazing!”

A promise she’ll do anything to keep, she decides.

You hold up a gilded hand mirror so she can get a good look at the back, but she’s still entirely focused on the miracle that is you. The Halovian tilts her head this way and that way to cover this up, but it’s fruitless. She cannot help but be taken with her best friend and the inspiration of her latest piece (work in progress). 

“I love it. Truly.”

event post here. network members only!

[echoalyssa]

Counterparts | Brian O’Conner

The night air is warm, almost comforting. The city of Los Angeles seemed to have decided to go to sleep tonight. The city, normally bustling with life, was quiet, peaceful. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks up at the moon.

I’m standing in front of Mercy Park’s garage checking the oil level of my bike. My brother Logan is lingering by the bay doors, rearranging a stack of Husky jacks that really did not need to be rearranged. He was skeptical about me going riding with someone outside of our crew, but I had known Brian for years.

He drove with Dominic Toretto. Toretto’s crew were technically our rivals as we worked out of the same part of LA. Though Dom and Kaneko, the leader of the Mercy Park Crew, had come to an agreement to coexist.

We’d decided to leave the JDM’s at home tonight. It was perfect weather to take the bikes out and we’d both been neglecting the machines.

         The loud thrum of Brian’s bike alerts me that he is around the corner. I glance at Logan and narrow my eyes at him, begging him to go back inside and talk to Toby or Ximena. He was ridiculously worried about Brian considering his girlfriend’s dad was the cop who had almost brought us all in. 

Brian comes around the corner and pulls into the garage’s parking lot. He nudges the kickstand out with his right booted foot and then turns the key in the ignition to shut the machine off. He tugs his helmet off, revealing his blonde curls and striking blue eyes. The smile that he aims at me is intoxicating.

He dismounts his bike and crosses the distance towards me. I open my arms for him immediately. His arms go around my waist, and I loop mine around his neck. He smells like oil mixed with an earthy undertone. Brian holds me for a good minute before he steps back and flashes me with that grin again. 

“It’s been too long.” He glances over your shoulder and raises his hand in a wave, “Hey Logan!”

I hear the garage door close and know that my brother has finally left us alone.

“You look good.” I murmur back to him. And he does, he’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and black jeans. He has his steel toes on and a thin gold chair dangles around his neck. He’s showered recently, his hair bearing the signs of water. Though somehow there is a dirt smudge just under his jaw, as if he just can’t quite seem to stay away from the grime of working on cars.

Brian pokes the tip of my nose with his index finger and then glances at the garage behind me. He tilts his head in the direction of the street. Even though both crews were on good terms did not mean that we should be hanging out together in broad view.

I pull my hair into a loose braid before sliding my helmet on. Brian starts his bike again, throwing a leg over. He maneuvers it backwards so that he can pull back out onto the road. It’s currently wrapped in white with the signature Toretto decals on the gas tank.

My own bike, a Kawasaki Ninja is blacked out. I went for stealth. The machine roars to life underneath me. Brian nods in my direction and together we rev the engines before taking off down the road.

I let Brian lead; I didn’t mind where we went as long as I would get an adrenaline rush. He takes us through a few side streets before we hit the ramp to the highway. He turns his head, checking to make sure that I am still behind him.

The second he confirms that I am still following behind him like his little shadow, he tucks and takes off down the empty highway. My heart soars as I accelerate after him. The red needle on my speedometer quickly craws into the triple digits.

We’re absolutely soaring, breaking felony speeds, but neither of us have plates. The wind whips his t-shirt around, making the fabric crawl upward so it bunches around his chest and exposes the hard planes of muscle. 

There aren’t many people out on the highway, but we weave through the ones that are. We’re perfectly in sync, reading each other’s movements without needing to communicate. I give the throttle a little more and go surging past him, but only for a moment. He overtakes me. It continues like this for miles, each of us going for the lead. The city is a blur around us.

I outstretch a hand to the wind, feeling the way it pushes my arm back in because of the speed. Anyone who saw us together must have been in awe, we give off an almost ethereal aura. Yin and Yang. Light and dark. One and the same.

We were brothers. But bound by more than blood. We were twins as well. Counterparts. Gangster princes of the city we met.

No amount of words could describe the perfection of the moment between the two of us. A picture would do no justice.

Adrenaline pumps through my veins, one mistake and we would be dead, but there was no fear. Only the urge to go faster, to push the limits. That was the thing about Brian, he understood. That if speed was to lead to our demise, we would go out smiling.

Almost too soon, Brian drops a hand to his side, signaling that he is going to take the next exit ramp. He leans into the turn and checks once more, that I’m behind him. We maneuver down a few side roads and then come to a stop atop a hill. The stars are bright tonight, almost defying nature. 

Brian dismounts his bike first, and then he’s in front of me. I haven’t even finished setting up my kickstand before his hands are pulling my helmet off and his lips are brushing against mine. I sigh into him, trusting that I can tip toe the bike and kiss him back. It’s like a weight has been lifted off of my chest

He pulls away but rests his forehead against mine, his fingers brush the strands of hair that had escaped my braid back behind my ears. “I missed you.”

The only response I can find is to pull him back towards me. There wasn’t much time to spare for either of us, both crews were constantly traveling for boosts, but the time that we did have together… we savored it. Loyalties to the crews aside, the two of us would always come back to one another.

[ywxhny]

Jack saying these hurtful words to Joke, telling him to basically disappear from his life. Joke took the words to heart. Nevermind that these were said at the heat of the moment. Because, Joke had always believed that he is never good for Jack or for anyone—that he’s just a stain on everyone’s life bringing bad luck.

When Jack finally calmed—well as calm as he can be—Hope’s words gotten through to him just a tad. He cried for Joke, cried for the way they left things, cried for missing him, and maybe, cried for the hurtful things he said to Joke.

As we see the next day with the little gang, Jack’s reaction to Joke’s name when Hoy mentions him, is the kind who isn’t as mad as the first time. More like a mix of feelings. Annoyed that Joke is known to be the king of heist, annoyed he’s not there, annoyed that it’s most likely his fault. But maybe, part of him is relieved bc Joke won’t be in trouble anymore if he stayed away. Regardless, Jack truly underestimated Boss. Because as we can see, Boss knew to take Jack’s ultimate weakness. Because it’s not just grandma anymore, it’s Joke that has Jack’s whole heart.

We got a moment with Joke and grandma, he was so happy to see her only to remind them both that he’s not there to come back and stay. And catch his words, he asked for Ama to only tell Jack the words he wanted to say, only if Jack himself ever asks for him. He didn’t even try begging Ama to tell Jack and ask to reconcile, which he knew Ama would absolutely do. But rather, he’s giving the space Jack needs. Totally different when he first came out of prison asking for forgiveness. He’s giving Jack the space to breathe, to swallow what’s happening, all the while thanking him for everything—the things he wanted to tell Jack that from the beginning, Jack had Joke’s heart already. That he took Joke’s smile and made it for the world to see. That he was the reason Joke was ever truly happy. Joke’s only sorry that for being happy, he had to take away Jack’s smile many times.

Ama’s words “Fate is funny isn’t it? You gave Jack’s freedom in exchange of never seeing him again.” And she’s right.

Though, in Jack & Joke’s minds, this is the freedom that Jack wanted. But it’s not. Joke disappearing would not be Jack’s freedom. However, Joke doesn’t know that. Joke only ever believed he took it away. And in some parts, yes, but he was also the one to give it.

Joke didn’t know Jack would go to the ends of the earth to find him. That Jack didn’t even hesitate to believe Ama when she says he needs to save Joke.

Because if he truly felt that Joke was not worth his love, he wouldn’t be as upset and full of rage to go in a trap just to save him.

That Joke may believe disappearing for good would give everyone, Jack, a better life. But Jack would only dig the graves deeper for each body responsible to ever hurt Joke.

Jack may not have realized just how much his words affected Joke. He may have wanted to wait till they cool off, then come find Joke to talk but the world doesn’t ever give them the break. He may have said the words, but his heart still sees Joke as his boyfriend. Much said when he gives Carbon the kick he deserves for punching Joke right in front of Jack.

And at this, we may see Joke realizing that maybe they were both too haste in their actions trying to make each other feel better, apologizing & forgiving all the same. It was just one day, but it clearly felt like a lifetime to Joke, if he thought he should just say goodbye for good. But Jack proves him wrong as he came trying to save him. And even before that when he says he has to fix things at home. He has to fix what he broke with Joke.

It’s such a rollercoaster of emotions. One day Joke thought he had his future panned out, the next he has to leave his newfound family and disappear, and in another snap, his Jack is claiming him once again.

But isn’t that the beauty of this romance?

Reality isn’t as smooth sailing.

Joke & Jack’s love has been built with loops from fate trying to unravel for them to settle. They’ve yet to uncover what really makes them fated, and they have to work on that.